Is there such a thing as lawyer basketball porn? I’d totally buy it.
From twenty feet, I could see every line of Josh’s abs. And Nate …
It killed me to admit Nate looked better than I remembered. It wasn’t even that he was objectively hot. Though I guess he was. He had an unfair advantage because I knew just what that body could do. I could still feel it on me from the other morning on the couch. Like if I lifted my shirt I could see the impression of his skin on mine.
“These guys are pretty serious,” Dylan said, impressed. “Did they play college or high school?”
“Sure,” I replied absently. Someone snorted beside me. I ignored it.
Nate’s face was a mask of concentration, oblivious to the audience as he swiped the ball out of Josh’s hands.
Jordan leaned over. “I think they’re going to break out a measuring tape.”
“What?” I looked at her blankly.
“Do I have to spell it out? There are two desk jockeys running each other into the ground over you.”
“I don’t—”
“Shit!”
Four heads snapped toward the court. Both guys were on the pavement. Nate got up first, breathing hard. He seemed to hesitate before extending a hand to Josh.
Lex looked pointedly at me.
“Oh! Are you OK? Josh?” I jogged to meet him.
By that point he was standing and brushing himself off. He smiled, though it looked strained. He shook out his legs to check for injuries.
“Fine. Thanks, babe.” He bent over and dropped a kiss on my mouth. It was longer, harder than I expected. When I pulled back, Nate was watching darkly.
He seemed to shake it off, turning to Josh. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to catch you that hard.”
“No worries.” But Josh’s smile was tighter than normal.
“Maybe it’s time to go for something stronger than caffeine,” Dylan suggested, coming up behind us.
“Yeah, good idea,” I breathed, still unsure what the hell had just happened.
We headed for a nearby sports bar. Dylan fell into step with Nate, and Josh and I held back, him taking my hand in his. I was the last to our table. When we sat, Dylan and Nate were already deep in conversation.
“You still play rugby?” Nate asked my brother.
“Yeah, but I got hurt in high school. Now I play rec mostly, which is better for my grades. I’m going into fourth year engineering, hoping I can land a job in New York after. Something tells me I need to protect my interests.” Dylan half-smiled at Lex, challenging her to say something. She just rolled her eyes.
God, they were cute. I was glad they’d been talking about the future again.
“Good plan. If you need any connections, give me a call,” Nate told my brother. “I can get you introductions to a few firms.”
“That’d be great. Thanks.” Dylan looked at him with admiration.
For some reason, I couldn’t keep quiet. It bugged me that Nate was looking like a superstar in front of my brother. “If you need connections, Nate’s your guy. He sues half the city and does favors for the rest, so he pretty much knows the entire island.”
Nate’s eyes sparked on mine. “Give it time. You’re new to town, and your primary social activity is mainlining Thai food,” he volleyed back.
I smiled sweetly. “Don’t be mean. Not everyone can rub shoulders with rich criminals all day.”
Even though I was annoyed he’d come, I had to admit that a few minutes of arguing with him got me going more than the basketball.
After a round of drinks, I got up to use to the restroom at the end of a long hall. I ran into Dylan on the way back.
“Thanks for calling me the other day. I’m glad I came. Even if it used up all my travel points and half of next month’s grocery money.” He grimaced.
“I’m glad you guys are working it out. Actually, I’m a little relieved.” He raised an eyebrow quizzically. “I mean, if there’s no hope for you two, what is there for the rest of us?”
We shared a smile. It felt nice to be on good terms. Probably because it’d taken twenty years to get there.
“What about you?” Dylan asked casually.
I glanced toward the restaurant to ensure no one was in hearing range. “Josh is great. He’s smart, and sweet, and has manners …”
My baby brother cut me off with his “I can see through your bullshit” look. “I wasn’t talking about Captain America.”
“Dylan.” My tone held a caution.
One he completely ignored. “Nate’s into you—”
“So that is why you invited him! Dammit, Dylan, you always think you’re smarter than the rest of us, but you don’t even know him.”
He shrugged dismissively. “You’re forgetting I know you. We’re family, we’re made from the same parts. So believe me when I say the way you guys argue? It’s like watching through a peephole in Amsterdam.”
“Gee, thanks for the brotherly advice.” I patted his shoulder before brushing past him to walk back to the table. But Dylan’s voice stopped me.
“I’ll butt out if that’s what you want. But I don’t get it. If you won’t choose, you’re wasting Josh’s time, and yours. And Nate’s not stupid, Ava—it’s obvious to him too. You’re the only one who doesn’t see it.”
He backed down the hall toward the restroom, fixing me with a meaningful look and leaving me gaping.
I took a minute to gather myself before heading back to the table. Taking my seat again, I immersed myself in what Jordan was saying about some band. I refused to look at either Josh or Nate. Tried to ignore Dylan’s words that echoed in my brain.
A server set a brown to-go bag with the bar’s logo in front of Nate while the rest of us were still waiting on food.
“Not hungry?” I asked in a low voice.
He shook his head. “I’m going to go.” The coolness in his tone was new. “I’ll see you.” Nate left, saying curt goodbyes to the rest of the table.
What the hell was that all about?
As we ate our bar food, I couldn’t help noticing Lex and Dylan, how they’d tease and touch each other and exchange these secret looks. Wasn’t that what I wanted? Not the romance instead of the heat, but both together?
I leaned into Josh, who had an arm on the back of my seat. “Can we go for a walk?”
“You bet.”
After the bills were settled, we all stood to go.
“We’re going to see a movie,” Lex volunteered. “Anyone want to come?”
“If you want to abuse—I mean use—the apartment, go ahead,” I offered.
She and Dylan exchanged a look.
“Movie can wait,” Dylan said deadpan. My best friend almost managed to hide the smile tugging at her mouth.
“Good seeing you Jordan, Lex. Dylan, nice to meet you.” Josh smiled at everyone. “Ready?” He steered me toward the door.
It was dusk and starting to cool off. I wished I’d brought a jacket, but didn’t want to look cold in case Josh put his arm around me. We turned left out of the restaurant, toward home. I listened with half an ear as Josh talked plans for the week.
Less than a block away my gaze landed on a man in a doorway. He was sitting on a blanket with a dirty knapsack clutched protectively in one hand. His other hand held a sandwich. He looked up guardedly as I walked by. But what caught my eye was the bag from the restaurant, crumpled on the street next to his knapsack.
The bag Nate had been carrying.
Dammit …
I couldn’t escape Nate Townsend.
And I couldn’t keep faking it with some other guy until I got my head on straight. No matter what my brother said, it wasn’t a choice between Josh and Nate. It was a choice between Josh and me, believing I could feel the rush I’d always imagined. That I deserved it and would find it. With someone.
~
“Hello?” I called as I cautiously opened the door of our suite.
The kitchen light was on and Lex was getting a glass o
f water. The door to her room was pulled.
“Did you kill him?” I asked with mock horror.
Lex tucked a piece of unusually messy hair behind her ear. “He’s just tired. Long flight.” She said it in a low voice before draining the glass and refilling it.
“So that’s what they’re calling it these days.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s OK, really, Lex. If he’s dead, Kate, Ethan, and I split Mom and Dad’s money three ways instead of four. Which means we each get about twenty bucks.”
Lex smiled. I followed her to the couch, sat down, and curled my legs under me.
“So things are good with you guys?” I asked quietly.
“I think so. Long distance is hard. I’m glad we stuck it out, but if I’d known last year it would be this bad? I might not have done it. Still, he’s going to find a way to visit more, and I will too.” She paused. “I’m worried about you, though. What happened with Josh?”
“We—I broke it off.” She nodded understandingly. “It just wasn’t … I didn’t feel anything, Lex.” I thought about how Josh had been when I’d told him. Decent; understanding but disappointed. My shoulders rose and fell. “Maybe I’m doing it wrong. Maybe I’m broken.”
Lex shook her head quickly. “You are not broken, Ava. If there’s nothing there, there’s nothing there.”
“He’s perfect.” I didn’t know if I was saying it to Lex or to me.
“The funny thing about perfect? There’s no such thing. I mean, Dylan’s not perfect, and I’m not. The best I can hope for is that we’re perfect for each other.”
I thought about her words. “I know there are other guys. I’ll find what you have eventually. And if not, I’ll always have Travesty. And you. And maybe some cats.”
Lex leaned over to give me a hug before standing. “It won’t come to that. You’ll see.”
Chapter 17
Ava
By the time I woke up Monday morning, the world was brighter. The sun was shining. And I felt less like a dating failure.
I threw on skinny jeans, nude heels, and a yellow off-the-shoulder top that was from our fall collection before collecting my sketching things to take to Central Park. Despite the improvement in my mood, I wasn’t ready to face Lindy’s questions about my love life.
Passing Nate’s, I heard a noise. I turned around. The door was just ajar.
What the …
Had someone broken in? I’d heard about crime in New York but hadn’t seen it firsthand.
I did what any good neighbor would do. I unlocked my door and searched the entrance wildly for the most dangerous thing I could find at a moment’s notice: a stiletto from a pair on the mat. Then I tiptoed across the hall and pushed Nate’s door wider slowly, inch by inch. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I raised the shoe in my hand, business-end out.
Movement flashed across my vision. I screamed and tripped, dropping the shoe, then scrambled back across the hall on my hands and knees.
This is it, Cameron. This is how you’re going to die. On the floor of your hallway because you tried to go all Jason Bourne with Lex’s Manolo.
“Ava?”
My “last moments on earth” montage stopped.
“Nate?” The door opened again from the inside. A sweaty but familiar face appeared. “Nate, you scared the shit out of me!”
“Me? What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? Protecting you!” I found my feet, knees still weak, and crossed to his door. Stepping gingerly inside, I gestured to the shoe lying harmlessly on the mat.
Nate shook his head in disbelief before hobbling to the couch to sit. He lifted a leg carefully onto the table in front of him and I realized his ankle was the size of an orange.
“What the hell happened?” I demanded.
“Basketball happened,” he said, blowing out an exasperated breath.
“That’s why you left early on Sunday.”
“Well, I didn’t think it’d be this bad. The damn thing blew up overnight. I went to work this morning, but one of the paralegals, Emma, barred the door and sent me to the doctor. I’m supposed to stay off it for three days.” He made it sound like three years. “And now everyone at the office knows because Emma called the doctor to find out what she could do to aid in my recovery.”
Point, Emma.
“So you need to take the time off.” My body was still recovering from the shock. I crossed the living room, sitting gingerly on the corner of the chair across from the couch.
Nate’s agitation was clear. “I need to be at work. I’m falling behind every damn second that I’m here.”
“You. Can’t. Walk.”
He shot me a look. “You don’t need two legs to practice law.”
I ignored him, looking toward the table between us where there were some papers and a bottle of pills. “What’s all this?” He reached for the bottle, but I was faster, lifting it and reading the label for a prescription for some heavy-duty pain medication. “Pretty sure you need to be lucid to practice law. Though I should probably let you do it. Maybe it’d win our case for us.”
“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.” Nate pushed a hand through his hair, finally dropping his arm across the back of the couch. “I asked work to ship me boxes. Emma somehow intercepted the request. It’s like she’s in black ops or something,” he complained.
The visual made me snort. “As much as I’m sure you’re the only capable lawyer in midtown, the world will not cease to function without you for a day or two. I bet the last time you took time off was when Jamie died.”
Nate shifted.
“Nate, are you telling me you didn’t take any time off?” My jaw fell open.
“An afternoon. For the funeral,” he grunted.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” I set the pills back on the table. The guy obviously needed a lesson in self-care. He had time to think of others but didn’t give a shit about himself. It would be admirable if it weren’t so destructive. “You’re going to take a damn day off if it kills you. Here’s how it’s going down. You stay here. I’m going to phone someone to come help you.”
“Who exactly did you have in mind? Josh?” He looked at me like I was nuts. “I already got shit for bodychecking him the other day. And I’m not calling my parents.”
I wanted to ask if he had other friends. His answer would probably be no, I realized with a start. He might know a lot of people, but from what I’d seen and heard from Josh, Nate didn’t let many of them in.
I should leave him to look after himself. Nate was independent. And determined.
But …
His ankle really was huge, and his face shone with sweat from the effort of moving himself eight feet across the room.
“Fine. Do what you want. But I’m getting you some food before I go.” I turned and walk to the fridge without waiting for him to respond.
Opening the door revealed an empty carton of orange juice, something growing in a Tupperware container, and—
I recoiled in horror.
“What the hell, Suit! You keep Cheerios in the fridge?”
“They last longer.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. They’re dried bread. They need to … to …”
“To what?” he taunted from the other side of the counter.
“I don’t know, breathe!”
Low chuckling came from the other room. It was the first I’d heard him laugh since our locked-out non-date last week. Even though it was at my expense, the sound was comforting.
“If they last longer in the fridge, it’s only because you forget where you put them,” I muttered.
“Mhmm. Why do you care? Are you making me breakfast?”
I shut the door and threw a handful of Cheerios at him. They didn’t go far, but he ducked anyway.
Seeing the apartment in the daylight and with me paying more attention, I noticed the food situation wasn’t the only problem. Everything was sleek and modern, but impersonal, like
it’d been decorated by a monk.
“You need a plant, Nate,” I said as I returned to the living room. “And some accent pillows.”
“Do I look like a guy who buys accent pillows?”
Guys never understood the value of decor. “Trust me. Even if they don’t immediately add to your quality of life, accent pillows will get you laid.”
“What makes you think I need to get laid?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Because I’ve never heard you—never mind.” Nate wasn’t a guy friend. Just because part of him was temporarily impaired and he couldn’t literally tackle me, that didn’t make him safe. I changed the subject, pointing to the sheet of paper on the table. “What are you supposed to do with that thing?”
He picked it up and scanned the text. “Ice twenty minutes every hour.” He eyed me. We both knew there was no way Nate would get across the room that often.
“Let me get you started before I go.” I went back to the kitchen and fished around in the freezer for an ice pack. I settled for a bag of peas and wrapped it in a towel for him.
“Thanks,” he said when I brought it over.
A few minutes turned into an hour, then the hour turned into an afternoon. We iced and rested as prescribed. We played poker, which he promptly whipped me at. When I said something about the ridiculous transit system, Nate pulled out his iPad and talked me through the subway routes, asking where I went most and explaining how to get everywhere. He was surprisingly patient.
Somehow I ended up spending the rest of the day there. I was still uncomfortable with the idea of us hanging out, but this didn’t count as hanging out. It was more like … I was the first responder to the scene of an accident.
By seven we were hungry. “Won’t Josh be missing you?” Nate asked, not meeting my gaze as he leafed through a takeout menu.
My head jerked up. Nate didn’t know I’d ended things. Josh hadn’t called him.
Dammit.
That was why this felt so normal.
Telling him now would destroy the easy vibe that’d sprung up between us. I went through a mental battle. Lying gave me hives, but I wanted to preserve this a few moments longer.
Stripped (Travesty Book 2) Page 12
