Announcement? Nathan found himself leaning in, despite his laptop only being a few feet away.
“I’ve been out of sorts, and some of you have noticed. Which is completely fair.” Tara almost looked like her usual self. Shifting her posture to give the camera the best angle, flirting with the lens. “I’m sorry for that. We had a few upsets with our location, as you know, and some other personal things that came up. But life is back on track, and you can expect the fantastic content you love going forward. In fact, I’m doing new ink via livestream in just a couple of days. I guarantee you’re going to be wowed.”
That was the Tara he knew and loved.
It was also impossible to ignore the twinge inside that she was doing it without him. Who did she have lined up? Where was she working?
You expected her to put her life on hold?
Of course not. Or maybe just a little.
Jealousy wove through the ache. She was smiling because Nick was there. Nathan had no doubt.
You were the one who sent him away. Wanted to stay here.
Because Nathan had to figure out this baby thing.
Or did he? His hesitation was stupid. He needed to be back with Tara. They could figure out the rest when he got there.
It won’t work that way. You know it won’t. She said it won’t.
They couldn’t solve anything on opposite sides of the world. Fuck this place. Fuck his shitty relatives. He had his answer. Reconciliation was never an option, and he wouldn’t wonder anymore.
You’re going back because of Nick.
No he wasn’t.
Because he makes Tara happy and you’re jealous.
Actually, yeah, Nathan was. He wasn’t letting his screw-up cost him something incredible, and he definitely wasn’t letting Nick replace him.
That’s not how this works.
Nathan didn’t care. He was going home, and he was going to make things right.
NICK LIKED FALLING asleep next to Tara and waking up still pressed against her. The second morning back was even better than the first.
She extracted herself from his arms and the blankets, and stretched. Her loose tank top hinted at the stunning figure underneath, and pink still flushed her pale cheeks.
She twisted back to face him, and smirked. “Enjoying the view?”
“Always.”
“Some of us have things to do this morning.” Tara leaned down to brush her lips over his, offering a fantastic tease of breasts down the front of her top in the process.
He forced his gaze back to her face. “You’re on vacation.”
“You know better. Besides, I was talking about you.”
He pushed himself up on his elbows. “Busted.” Things were slow at work this week, but he’d let himself fall behind with the cross-continent trips and everything else that had happened. Still, he was making time this morning to help Tara with her show, and more excited about it than he expected.
“I’m going to take a shower.” She stood. “Make coffee, and then you can take your turn in the bathroom while I make breakfast?”
“Sounds fair.” He wanted to offer to join her. Tease her about saving water. Offer to wash her back. He would wait until she was ready, though.
They split into the separate rooms.
He was getting more familiar with the kitchen and the entire apartment. He knew enough to get coffee ready. Despite the fact that got used to sleeping here on his last trip, this felt different. It was more casual.
The entire thing left him feeling imbalanced. He was stuck in a sort of limbo. Not as though he’d moved in, but he also was more than one-night stand guy.
He scrolled through his email while the coffee brewed, the poured himself a cup. He kept half an ear out for the sound of running water to stop. When the shower turned off, he poured a second mug and added cream and a splash of vanilla.
Tara wandered out from the bathroom, wrapping an elastic around the end of her still-wet braid. “If you’re not careful, I’ll get used to having you here. Might not want you to leave.”
Would that be a bad thing? He didn’t want to ask. He didn’t know which response would be harder to here. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He stood as she stepped closer, wrapped an arm around her waist, and gave her a quick kiss.
Goosebumps raced over his arms when she leaned into him, letting him draw out the moment. He might be getting used to mornings with Tara, but her kisses sparked bright and fresh each time.
“I’ll be back,” he murmured against her mouth, before reluctantly letting go.
As he walked away, she whistled. “I’d say make yourself sexy for the camera, but that’s a given.”
He smirked and put an exaggerated swing in his hips, earning a laugh.
Nick shaved and showered quickly. As he was dressing, a new sound tickled his ears. Voices? It must be the TV.
No. One of them was Tara. Not a phone call, because he heard both people. Which also meant she wasn’t filming.
He tugged on his shirt as he followed the sound. It was coming from downstairs.
Nathan?
Nick headed down the staircase, stalling halfway when his suspicion was confirmed. Nathan stood in the front doorway, suitcases on the ground next to him, and Tara between him and inside.
Her arms were crossed, and Nathan was scowling.
Things had just gone from almost-normal to surreal. Tension cranked through Nick, and he stepped up behind Tara.
Chapter Twelve
Nathan’s flights were smooth. Going through customs went quickly. There were no delays.
But when he landed at Malpensa, he swore it was the longest flight he’d ever taken. He should have slept on the plane, but the adrenaline hadn’t stopped coursing through his veins since he boarded in Chicago.
The sun peeked over the horizon, streaming through the airport’s huge windows. He expected his tension to ebb now that he was on the ground. Instead it hammered in his ears.
He just had to grab his luggage, get a cab, and he’d be home. Only a few steps left.
He tried not to let his mind wander as he waited for his familiar suitcase to come up on the carousel.
“Nathan?” A familiar female voice next to his ear cut through the chatter. What were the odds?
He turned to see Matilde standing next to him, regarding him with wide eyes.
Even on the best days, he wasn’t in the mood to be friendly with her—not after everything she put Tara and the tattoo shop through—but today his patience was non-existent. He could probably summon coolly-polite. “Yes?”
“I heard rumors you’d left for home. That you were gone.” Her tone was sugary sweet for someone implying he shouldn’t be here.
How did she know he’d been away? “This is my home.”
“I understand, you live with her. But you’re American. That’s all I meant.”
Nathan knew exactly what she meant. “I was out of town for a few days. I’m back.” And it was a little creepy that she had that information.
Tara probably told her family, but he doubted she’d dialed up her ex’s girlfriend and said, Hey, fighting with Nathan. No clue how that’s going to turn out.
“I see. Are you helping her with moving prep?”
The crowds jostled them, but he stood steady. Was this really Matilde’s version of polite conversation, or was she digging for something else?
“We’re looking for a new place for the tattoo parlor.” He wasn’t going to give her any more information than she already had. Partly because he didn’t need her knowing their business, but also because a lot of people talked more when they were getting vague answers, or responses different from what they wanted.
“But she’ll be moving, right? Probably selling the place as well?” Matilde said.
Nathan kept his face blank. “We haven’t made those types of plans.”
“No reason to keep the property if she can’t live there. You must be discussing alternatives at this point. The commute is going
to be murder.”
This definitely wasn’t casual conversation. Why was she so interested in Tara leaving? Besides the whole not-liking-each-other thing. That was an extreme reason to want someone out of your city completely. “No. We’ll be staying.”
“Are you certain? I don’t think that’s the case.”
“I’m positive.” His luggage came into view. Great excuse to cut this short. “I need to get home. My real home. Goodbye.” He couldn’t summon anything more pleasant than that to end the conversation.
He grabbed his bags, hailed a taxi outside, and tried not to fidget in the back seat on the ride back to the apartment.
And then Nathan was finally there. Home. He felt lighter than he had in weeks at the sight of their familiar front door. He slid his key into the lock and tried to turn. Nothing.
He pulled it out and made sure it was the right key. Not that he had many to choose from. It was right. He tried again. Still nothing.
His key didn’t work?
Tara would be up by now. He hammered his fist on the heavy wood and waited.
A whisper of memory flitted through him of the last time he’d done this. Right before he flew to Chicago, when Tara ignored him.
His relief wasn’t as potent as he hoped when he heard the lock snick.
The door opened enough for Tara to step into view.
His grin popped into place immediately, but wilted when she gave him a half smile and blocked the doorway.
“Hey. I missed you.” Nathan reached for her.
She stepped back out of reach. “Me too. I didn’t know you were coming back right now.”
“I wanted to talk face to face.” He wanted to wrap her up and spend hours talking and cuddling and making up for lost time. Her body language—shoulders hunched and hands jammed in her pockets—told him that would be a bad impulse to act on. “Did you change the locks?”
Her frown softened. “I’ve had a lot of hate mail, and people obviously know where I live. It didn’t do it to keep you out. I meant to tell you, but it kept slipping my mind. I figured when you let me know you were coming home, it would come up.”
“I understand.” That wasn’t something he could be angry about, but it itched under his skin that she forgot to mention it.
“Hey.” Nick’s voice carried from behind Tara. “Is everything all right?”
Tara let the door swing open enough for Nathan to see him. He stood halfway between Tara and the stairs, arms crossed, and hair still damp.
Because of course he was staying here. Nathan forced his jaw to unclench so he could ask, “Do you have an extra copy of that key”—or did you give it to Nick?—“or should I get one made?”
“We need to talk. In person is fine, but that can be part of the conversation,” she said.
He knew that was coming. It hurt to hear the request for a key denied—this was their home, she was his girlfriend, and he was her boyfriend.
And instead of Nathan living here, she had some nearly-stranger sleeping in their apartment, and standing guard while she told Nathan he couldn’t come in.
Nick’s not a stranger anymore.
But thinking of him as a friend made Nathan’s irritation feel less justified, and Nathan wasn’t willing to yield that. “Is now a good time? I’ll buy you breakfast. Or we can talk here. Whichever you prefer.”
Anyplace they could do this in privacy, without her redheaded guard dog glaring at Nathan.
Tara took a few steps back, toward Nick, and let the door swing open. “Now’s not a good time. I’m going live soon.”
That was now? He’d lost track of too much time crossing time zones.
“But you’re welcome to join us. Say hi to the viewers.”
Pretend everything was fine. That things were back to normal. He understood the desire for that, and the practicality in it, but that didn’t mean he liked the idea. “Give me a few minutes to wash the exhaustion away?”
“We’re going live in thirty. Go ahead while I finish setting up.” Tara nodded at the stairs.
At least he wasn’t being barred from the house. “When is your appointment coming in?”
“Already here.” Nick waived.
Because of course it was Nick.
A smile flickered across Tara’s face before vanishing again. “I told you we’d make an addict out of him.”
“I thought you were going live.” Nathan didn’t understand how that would work.
“We are.” Nick nodded. ”I’ll be on camera, just like a real customer.”
“Fantastic.” Nathan didn’t care if he reply sounded forced. He’d smile for the camera. He knew how to bullshit when the situation called for it. But Tara wanted honesty, and he’d give her exactly that.
Upstairs, he washed away the exhaustion as best he could with heavy doses of tap water.
Nick had a cup of coffee waiting for him when he emerged. “Glad you’re back.” Nick’s tone was polite, almost sincere, but it was lacking the same friendliness it carried in Chicago. “What changed your mind?”
You. But not in the way it sounded. “I think it makes more sense to have the conversation with Tara first.”
“Right.” Nick stepped around him. “See you downstairs.”
This was wrong. Every single aspect of it. Nathan felt like a stranger in his own home, while their one-night stand wandered about like he was a permanent fixture.
Nathan took a sip of the coffee. Right amount of milk. Just a hint of honey and cinnamon. It was perfect.
He scowled and dumped the rest down the sink. Thank God for a few minutes of peace. He could paste a mask in place, and make it through filming.
He found Tara and Nick in one of the tattooing rooms. The lights in the front of the shop were out. No one on the street would know they were working down here.
The odd conversation with Matilda flitted back. Nathan had more pressing things to worry about than that woman’s strange obsessions. “Toeing the lines of the city council revoking our license?”
“Nick’s not a customer.” Tara didn’t hesitate with a response. “He’s a friend, and we’re not conducting business.”
“They’re going to see the show and know you’re still here.” Nathan could claim he was pushing this because he was concerned about repercussions. Really, he was looking for an excuse to shut this down.
Childish.
Maybe, but he was exhausted and stressed out and didn’t care.
Tara raised an eyebrow. “Then they’ll know. And I’ll tell them the same thing. This is the art, in case you want to talk about it. We’re on in five, and I’m trusting you to do your thing.”
Nathan’s thing would be talking to the camera, then running the camera. It was Tara’s design so she’d apply it, and Nathan would keep up a conversation with Nick.
The art was an anime style sketch of a woman wearing a robe that looked like a nine-tailed fox. It was an elegant and stylized kitsune.
Nathan summoned the mask he’d need for the camera, including a bright smile and voice. “I’ve got my part covered. Let’s roll.” The words were too chipper to his own ears. Perfect.
Tara greeted their audience, told them Nathan was back from dealing with family, and turned control over to him.
He had his facade in place and ready to go.
The entire stream went smoothly. The ink went on beautifully. Nick was charming as fuck, as expected. The likes and comments and views skyrocketed.
Nathan was talking, but recording them, so he could be distracted by the comments. Most were positive. There was a smattering of the same bullshit he’d left behind. Venom directed at Tara. Derogatory names. Insults.
A hint of sympathy and a new flavor of fury mingled with the irritation pounding inside Nathan. How dare they?
They wrapped things up, and signed off. He uploaded the footage as-is, while she cleaned up the work space.
Nick looked between them, then focused on Tara. “I’m going to get some work done. I’ll be upstairs
.”
Her fake smile had wilted to reveal the exhaustion underneath, but her eyes still lit up when she looked at Nick. “We’re going to step out for a little while.”
“Then call me if you need anything.” Nick squeezed her hand. He turned to Nathan. “Good to have you back.” The words sounded sincere.
But Nathan didn’t want to believe it. He wasn’t the only one who was uncomfortable here or bothered by the current situation.
Or maybe he was. He was the guy on the outside this time. What did Nick have to worry about?
Chapter Thirteen
Tara sat across from Nathan in a cafe a few blocks from the apartment. Not her favorite place, since that was closed, but it was quiet, which she needed.
Nathan was back.
And her heart, mind, and stomach were a wreck because of it.
She wanted to greet him the same way she’d done with Nick, but more. Tangle herself up with Nathan. Fall into kissing, bed, talking as if nothing had changed.
That last one was the problem. Too much had changed, but at the same time, not enough.
“I didn’t know if you were coming back.” She wanted to say when, but the word wouldn’t form.
He fiddled with his cup, tracing the handle of the tiny espresso mug. “I needed time to think, after... everything.”
He couldn’t even say news about the baby.
She wasn’t jumping to conclusions. They were here to talk, and he wanted to do it in person. She preferred that. Preferred seeing him again. “What did you decide?” she asked.
“I still don’t know. Or rather, I know some things—I miss us. I want to make things right. This is my home and I wanted that back.”
“There’s more than just us to consider.” She’d be touched at the passion in his voice, but she’d told him, “You can’t pick me, and be unwilling to be a father.”
“I know. I— I can’t believe Nick’s staying with you.”
She pursed her lips. The redirection felt manipulative. “Don’t do that. Don’t change the subject so we don’t have to talk about the things you don’t want to talk about. And if it makes you feel any better, we’re not fucking. Not right now. He’s just sleeping with me.”
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