Micah be different?
He didnât so much kiss me as lay the feel of his breath against my cheek. He breathed, âUntil later.â That one light touch made me shiver so violently that he had to steady me with a touch on my arm.
He smiled at me, that knowing smile that a man gives when he understands just how much his touch affects a woman. I didnât like that smile. It made me feel like he took his time with me for granted. The moment I thought it, I knew it wasnât true. It wasnât even fair. So why had I thought it at all? Because I am a master at screwing up my own love life. If something works too well, Iâve got to poke at it, prod it, until it breaks, or bites me. I was trying not to do that anymore, but old habits, especially bad ones, die hard.
Micah moved off down the line, and Detective Arnet gave me a questioning look out of her heavily painted but lovely eyes. She opened her mouth as if to ask if I were alright, but the next person in line distracted her. Nathaniel was distracting, no doubt about that.
Jessica Arnet was a few inches taller than Nathanielâs 5' 6", so she had to look down to meet that lavender gaze. No exaggeration on the color. His eyes werenât blue, but truly a pale purple, lavender, spring lilacs. He wore a banded-collar shirt that was almost the same color as his eyes, so the lavender was even more vibrant; drowningly beautiful, those eyes.
He offered his hand, but she hugged him. Hugged him, because I think for the first time she was in a public situation where no one would think it was strange. So she hugged him, because she could.
There was a fraction of a momentâs hesitation, then he hugged her back, but he turned his head so he could look at me. His eyes said clearly, Help me.
She hadnât done that much yet, just a hug where a handshake would have done, but the look in Nathanielâs eyes was much more serious than what sheâd done. As if it bothered him more than it should have. Since in his day job heâs a stripper, youâd think heâd be used to women pawing him. Of course, maybe that was the point. He wasnât at work.
She stayed molded to his body, and he stayed holding, with only that mute look in his eyes to say he was unhappy. His body seemed happy and relaxed in the hug. He never showed Jessica Arnet his confused eyes.
The hug had gone on longer than was polite, and I finally realized what part of the problem was. Nathaniel was the least dominant person Iâd ever met. He wanted out of the hug, but he could not be the first one to pull back. Jessica had to let him go, and she was probably waiting for him to move away, and getting all the wrong signals from the fact that he wasnât moving away. Shit. How do I end up with men in my life who have such interesting problems? Lucky, I guess.
I held out my hand toward him, and the relief on his face was clear enough that anyone down the hall would have seen it, and understood it. He kept his face turned so Jessica never saw that look. It would have hurt her feelings, and Nathaniel didnât want to hurt anyoneâs feelings. Which meant that he didnât see her shining face, all aglow with what she thought was mutual attraction. Truthfully, Iâd thought Nathaniel liked her, at least a little, but his face said otherwise. To me, anyway.
Nathaniel came to my hand like a scared child whoâs just been saved from the neighborhood bully. I drew him into a hug, and he clung to me, pressing our bodies tighter than I would have liked in public, but I couldnât blamehim, not really. He wanted the comfort of physical contact, and I think heâd figured out that Jessica Arnet had gotten the wrong idea.
I held him as close as I could, as close as Iâd wanted to hold Micah. With Micah, it might have led to embarrassing things, but not with Nathaniel. With Nathaniel I could control myself. I wasnât in love with him. I caressed the long braid of