Nate

by Olivia Sinclair

  A minute later my phone buzzes with a text message. He’s put himself in my phone as ‘Nate’ and the message just says ‘text me when you’re safe for the night.’ It’s innocuous, hardly reportable to HR even if I wasn’t interested in him. Yet suddenly I feel claimed. I look up from my phone and into his eyes in the other room. His face is stern, his cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass, and yet his eyes are wickedly alive.

  I’m not a shy virgin; I’ve had a couple of serious boyfriends. My last one broke up with me after I started this job with all the traveling. He said I wasn’t around enough and while he wasn’t ready to get married he wanted more regular sex. Frankly, I was relieved not to have to worry about that anymore. He wasn’t that attentive of a lover and I was tired of feeling that I needed to sleep with him as insurance so he wouldn’t start cheating. It was easier to put my stuff into storage and start living out of hotel rooms. I discovered I didn’t miss the boyfriend at all. While I miss sex I know myself well enough to know I need a little more of a connection than a one night stand to relax and let someone in. I have no idea what Nate Bellamy wants from me and that makes me nervous.

  I’m done for the day and while I’m not hungry, I feel the need to hole up in my room and watch some silly TV show. So I pack up and take my things up to my room before heading down to the lobby and the outside world. The area around ACI has that edge of a city vibe. There are some office buildings, lots of trees planted between the sidewalk and the street, and a range of little restaurants and shops that serve the office workers and the residential community. I walk past a few cute houses on my way to the pizza place someone recommended. The great thing about pizza is that it tastes good cold. So as long as I’m careful with the toppings I can have it in a few hours or even for breakfast tomorrow and avoid the cafeteria. It may not be the best choice for my waistline but some days require a pass. I could do worse than pizza.

  Before the late-ending workers have left the building I’m back with my small mushroom and spinach pizza and safely tucked in my room. I stayed aware of my surroundings and while I think I saw that weird guard in the lobby when I came in he didn’t follow me into the elevator. All the same, I made sure my locks were all engaged. I take a quick picture of the open pizza box in front of the TV and send it to Nate without any message.

  His reply, ‘Good’, proves we’re from completely different generations. It’s late summer and the air conditioning in the room is struggling so I change into the lightest t-shirt and shorts I have with me. It covers enough I don’t have to worry about walking in front of the window but I wouldn’t dare go out in the hallway dressed like this. Good thing I’m not planning to.

  I eat my pizza and watch a strange reality TV show where people are trying to paint moving farm animals, paint them on canvas that is, not put paint on the animals. And then I turn everything off and try to sleep. For the first time in a year, the bed feels empty. I try not to think about Nate. Somewhere deep down I know that if I start rubbing my pussy while thinking about him, I might never stop. That or I’ll sink deeper into ‘like’. He hasn’t called or texted me to talk or flirt or whatever. If he feels anything beyond a benevolent concern for my welfare it’s clear he’s not planning on acting on it.

  I’m jerked awake by a loud pounding on the door. My heart is thudding but it takes me several seconds to orient myself to where I am. The pounding comes again. Instinctively I reach for my phone on the nightstand. It’s one a.m. I hit dial next to Nate’s name.

  He answers almost immediately, “Aubrey?”

  I’m almost startled out of my panic at the use of my name but not quite. I whisper as softly as I can. “Someone’s pounding on the door.”

  “Fuck. I’m coming. What’s your room number?”

  “1205”

  “Okay, I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. There’s a desk chair in the room, right?”

  “Yes.” I’m bewildered at that one.

  “I want you to take it and your phone into the bathroom, lock the door, and then wedge the chair under the handle. If you can brace it against the base of the toilet even better.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do it now while I’m on the phone. I’m going to have to hang up to ride my bike but that’s the fastest way to get there.”

  I get out of bed using only the light from my phone and move the chair as quietly as I can. “Alright, I’m in the bathroom.”

  “Okay, hang tight. Don’t come out until you hear me call you ‘babe’, okay? Anything else you stay put.”

  “Babe. Got it.”

  “See you in a few.”

  I perch on the edge of the tub and try not to feel frightened. It feels like hours but it probably was only about twenty minutes. I can barely hear the purr of a motorcycle pulling into the small front parking lot. The pounding on my door has continued in bursts, never with any verbal calls or my name. Just pounding. Then silence.

  Then a different kind of knock. I hear Nate’s voice. “Aubrey, babe. Unlock the door.”

  It takes me a minute to un-wedge the chair. I put it in the tub so the bathroom door can open. Checking the peephole just to be sure, I see Nate’s reassuringly large presence. I unlock the door and let him in. His black leather jacket is rubbed grey in the creases and makes him look even more like a warrior. There’s nobody else in the hallway. He immediately turns and re-engages the locks.

  “I didn’t dream it, Nate.” I don’t know why it’s important that he knows this, but it is.

  He reaches down and gently touches my cheek with one finger. “I know that. There are smudges on the door from whoever was banging. The problem is they’re not here now. Probably kept an eye out for the elevator or stairwell doors. Don’t worry about it. You can go back to bed. I’ll make myself comfortable.”

  “But…”

  “Bed, Aubrey.” He picks up the armchair by the window like it’s a child’s toy and carries it into the small hallway placing it with the back against the door. Then he sits down and closes his eyes. He doesn’t open them to say, “Aubrey? Either put some clothes on or go get under the covers.”

  I think I squeak with dismay. I’d forgotten how little I’m wearing which under the circumstances seems understandable. But now I’m standing here in a mostly dark room almost naked and being sent to bed like a naughty child. As opposed to being taken to bed like a grown woman. I’m mortified and I retreat.

  NATE

  Fuck. My eyes are closed but there’s no way I’m going to sleep. I’m doing my damnest not to listen to Aubrey moving restlessly in the bed less than ten feet away. I have no idea what you call what she was wearing but it did nothing to cover up her surprisingly large and luscious breasts. Or the soft swell of her hips. Even if I could justify making a play for her she’s done nothing to say she wants me in that way. She called me for help, not to fuck. And help is all I’m going to give her. I’m not sure if it’s the warm summer night or her possible stalker but it’s clear she’s having trouble sleeping. I want nothing more than to be lying next to her soothing her, protecting her, and giving her something to cling to in comfort. But she’s out of bounds.

  I’m jerked out of my reverie by a pounding on the door that’s enough to shake the chair I’m sitting in. Fuck. I get up out of the chair and go over to Aubrey who’s sitting up startled in the bed. I find her phone and hand it to her then lean down to whisper in her ear. “Lock yourself in the bathroom. Don’t turn on the light.”

  She grips my hand in understanding then leans up to whisper. “Be careful.”

  It’s been a long time since anyone worried about me. I’m not sure how I feel about it. I wait until I hear the soft snick of the bathroom lock and then I move the armchair I’d been sitting in and open the door.

  Surprise, surprise. The scumbag of a security guard is standing there gaping at me. “What do you want?” I growl and push myself forward.

  “You’re not an authorized guest! Authorized guests only!” He turns and tries to scurry a
way but I grab his jacket lapels first.

  “I don’t think so, you motherfucker.” I’m growling as I hold him up, almost off the ground with one hand, while I fish my phone out with the other. Somehow I manage to call 911 without letting go of the scrambling idiot. I could call building security but I don’t know who this douchebag is or how he’s connected. I know the police aren’t going to ignore it and they’ll have to involve security to get into the elevator anyway. I amuse myself while I wait by frisking the guy. He squeaks like I’m molesting him and nothing could be farther from my intentions. Although I can’t speak for his future prison friends. I growl louder when I find handcuffs and a stun gun. “What are you doing with this shit?”

  He doesn’t answer. I call into the room, hoping Aubrey remembers our codeword, “Honey, stay where you are.”

  She’s smart and doesn’t reply. Then the police show up with a cadre of ACI security and take the idiot off my hands. I hear one of them swearing “Martin, you fucking idiot. You were warned. Doesn’t matter who your uncle is, you’re finished here.” Martin just whines back.

  I am not amused and neither are the police. When he’s gone I call Aubrey out. “Babe, the police need to ask you some questions.”

  Somehow she found a bathrobe to cover up and she quickly emerges into the hallway, gravitating to my side like a magnet. After what I saw on that fucking pervert I’m relieved to see her again and hold her close with one arm while an officer asks her what she noticed and when. Aubrey briefly pulls away to write out her statement and I do the same. Then everyone clears out, leaving the two of us in the hallway. Out of nowhere, I notice Aubrey’s feet are bare. “Come on, let’s go back inside.”

  “You don’t have to stay, Nate. I think I’m safe now.”

  I can’t hold back the snort. “Maybe. But I won’t sleep if I don’t know that for sure. Come on, it’s almost morning. You can get a couple of hours in at least.”

  “Only if you lie down on the bed. I’m already feeling guilty that you’ve got a stiff neck.”

  I look at her in surprise and then realize I’ve been rubbing my neck with my hand since the cops left. She’s not wrong. Plus I’m not sure being in the bed is any worse than listening to her moving around on it.

  “Fine.” I follow her in, locking the door once more. Then I make sure she’s safely under the sheet before I lie down next to her stiff as a board, trying not to touch her. I can hear her breathing change in seconds and she’s out like a light. Somehow that gives me permission to relax and I’m falling asleep to the intoxicating scent that is all Aubrey.

  I wake up to find her half-draped over my chest, her leg bent over mine, and her knee in dangerous proximity to my morning wood. I gently push her knee down before it can do any damage and she mumbles in her sleep curling her small fists on my shirt and mashing her face into my shoulder. She’s warm and smells like vanilla and chocolate. Everything about this feels so right but I know it can’t last. I sigh heavily and try to ease out of the bed without waking her. She resists and I finally slide a pillow into the space I’m vacating. Aubrey curls herself around it with a small sigh.

  3

  AUBREY

  When I wake up I’m aware of two things: I slept remarkably well given the circumstances of last night and Nate is no longer lying in the bed. He’s glowering at me from the armchair where he has once again taken up position, his elbows braced on his powerful thighs. I give myself a minute to drink him in. He looks dangerous, particularly with the dark stubble of growth that’s appeared on his chin. I shiver imagining the sensation of his face sliding against my inner thighs.

  His eyes narrow as if he knows what I’m thinking and doesn’t approve. I’m done feeling like I’ve got anything to apologize for. I do however owe him this, “Thank you.”

  I’ve surprised him.

  “For what?” he rumbles.

  “Coming for me, staying with me. I didn’t know who else to call.”

  He shrugs, “I told you to call me. It’s nice to know you can follow orders.”

  I glower and he grins. Then he sobers again, “You’re probably not going to like this but I’m taking you home with me today.”

  “What!”

  “Relax. I’ve got four guest rooms. You can have your pick. I don’t think you heard the part last night where your admirer was identified as being related to someone in upper management. I’m not saying they’re condoning his behavior but I also don’t know they won’t bail him out and let him back. So you’re coming with me. This is one of the many reasons my address isn’t on file.” He gives me a piercing look.

  “Do you rescue lonely auditors regularly?”

  “Never needed to before now, but you get what I’m saying. So as much as I’d like to give you lots of space for all that PC shit about independent women I need to get you checked out and moved so that I can shower and shave before a nine o’clock meeting.”

  “Wait a sec. You don’t think women should be independent?”

  “Didn’t say that and don’t mean it.” He rubs a large hand over his face. “Aubrey, I’m 6’5” and weigh about two-forty. You’re what 5’6”? And maybe a hundred and thirty on a good day.”

  I snort, after that pizza, it’s probably a hundred and fifty but a girl gets to have a few secrets.

  “My point is your would-be friend had handcuffs and a stun gun. He was close to six foot and weighed almost as much as me. It’s like rock, paper, scissors without the paper. You don’t come out the winner in very many scenarios.”

  I wish he was wrong. Well, sort of. “Okay, but just for a day or two. Until I can talk to my manager and find a safe hotel.”

  “Until you leave the state you mean.” He says firmly as he stands up and gestures towards the bathroom. “You want to shower here or at my place?”

  “Here I guess, it saves a little packing. I’ll be done in a minute.” I grab some clean clothes and scurry into the bathroom, taking the fastest shower ever. More than anything I want to linger and relive those brief moments when I was snuggled up against him, but I can’t. Then I’m shoving things into my suitcase. As soon as I click it shut, Nate takes it from me and grabs my bag.

  “Fuck.” He says out of the blue.

  “What?” I look around for what could cause that reaction.

  “I came on my bike. I can’t take the suitcase. We’ll take it down to my office and then head out.”

  “Oh, well I don’t have to come now either…”

  “Yes, you do. I’m not letting you out of my sight until this is cleared up. I have an extra helmet. We’ll just drop your stuff downstairs on the way.”

  And big surprise, that’s what we do. His office is in a wide corner of the sixth floor with a lot of whiteboards on the two walls that aren’t windows. There are no nicknacks or family photos.

  In minutes we’re outside in the parking lot and he’s strapping a black helmet on my head and helping me up on his big shiny bike. I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle and never felt I was missing anything. But now with my arms wrapped around Nate, I’m thinking I might never get off. Particularly when he reaches up and pulls my arms tighter around him. Once we’re flying down the freeway I press my face into his back and just enjoy the moment. I can tell he’s going slow and I know it when it takes thirty minutes to reach his house instead of the fifteen or so it took him to get to me last night.

  When he pulls into a long narrow drive I sit up slightly and start looking around. Huge evergreens are growing on either side, practically touching overhead. A minute later and we’re in a small clearing and Nate is parking in front of a nondescript, one-story house, or so I think. He helps me with the helmet and unlocks the front door, holding it open for me. He has to nudge me gently forward when I stop in the entrance, flabbergasted. What is one story in the driveway is three stories of glass and cathedral ceilings at the back, looking out over Sala Bay. “What…How…?” I turn to look at him so I can try to understand.

  “It was my e
x-wife’s parents’ place.” He says mildly. “When they moved to Arizona they gave it to us. A year later when we divorced, it turned out she hated the place almost as much as she disliked me. And I loved it.” He shrugged. “When I was deployed I had renters in it, but for the last few years it’s been all mine.”

  “Thank you for sharing it with me, even briefly,” I say quietly. It’s his private sanctuary. I can tell this from the entryway. I’ve invaded with my problems and my checklists.

  “Don’t worry about it. Have a wander or you can try and figure out the coffee machine through there.” He gestures towards the kitchen. “It’s some high-end piece of shit that the rental company insisted on. I need to go make myself presentable.” He heads down the curved staircase towards one of the lower levels and I head into the kitchen which is at the back of the house, near the front door. He’s right, the coffee maker is like trying to launch a spaceship. By the time he’s back, water droplets hanging from small locks of his short hair and his chin smooth again, I’ve managed to make a couple of to-go cups of coffee.

  “Hey, thanks.” he smiles as he takes one. “Ready to go back? Sorry there isn’t time for breakfast. I promise to feed you properly tonight.”

  I try not to interpret that suggestively. I can think of a few ways I’d like him to feed me that don’t involve food. I’m sure he didn’t mean it that way but with all his muscles steaming gently from his shower I can’t help myself. He’s so close I can smell his woodsy shower gel. I pinch myself to bring things back to reality and follow him out a side door that leads directly into the garage. He holds open the passenger door of a respectable but not flashy car, an older model BMW and we head back towards ACI.