The Replacement (12 page)

But I find myself saying, “Okay.”

His dimples come out from hiding, and he struts up to me, all cool and confident. “Good choice. There will be lots of chocolate.” He leans down and lowers his mouth to my cheek, slowly planting a kiss there, and the sensation travels straight to my toes. He smiles against my skin, like he knows the effect his touch has on me. “I’ll pick you up at two. Dress warmly.”

I inhale shakily as he pulls away, his stubble abrasive as it sweeps over my cheek. “See you then.”

“Later.”

“Hey, Ryder?” My voice recovers some of its strength as I call out to him. He’s already halfway down the hall.

“Yeah?”

“You’re wrong about Nate.” I don’t know why I lie. I don’t know why I do half of what I do, but the words are there anyway.

“No, I’m not.” His tone is flat. He resumes his stride with his back to me. “You’ll see.”

My body is still at the doorway until he disappears, and I’m stuck wondering what the hell I just got myself into. It seems like just as I finally give Tim the boot and begin to make progress shaking Christian from my system, now I have two other men to worry about.

I haven’t seen Christian since the day of the festival. It sours my stomach when I think of that day, and I’m not sure why. But since then, some clarity has settled, dispelling the fog from my brain. I need to pull the plug on the Christian Walker booty call for good, because things with him have gone way past complicated.

As for Tim, his attempts to contact me have finally leveled off, and I rarely see him around town. He shows up at the diner every few days to chat with Jay, but his visits are never long and I never garner more attention from him than a quick scowl before he’s off again.

As I stand there staring at the empty hall where Ryder stood just seconds ago, I remember I now have to go deal with Nate. “Shit,” I whisper as I close my front door. I hop in the shower and slip into a black sweater dress and my tall suede boots, then rush out the door.

I find I’m not nearly as enthusiastic about meeting up with Nate as before, although I wasn’t very gung-ho about it in the first place. There’s only one reason I’ve agreed to see him today, and it has nothing to do with warm, fuzzy feelings for Natalie or my desire to help find the perfect birthday present for her. My motive is much less noble but I know that Nate wants the same thing, and that gives me the fuel to make the drive to his place.

Don’t fuck around with Nate, he’s not right for you.

Ryder’s words prick at my skin, but I shake them off. I’m not looking to be Nate’s Mrs. Right. And I’m not looking for a Mr. Right. I’m only looking to go where duty calls, and when it comes to Nate…duty definitely calls. There’s only one way to get Natalie to shake this delusional belief that we’re friends, and to get this unwelcome, stirring sensation in my gut under control. It popped up somewhere between seeing Christian the day of the festival and hanging out with Ryder, and it needs to be tamed.

If Nate’s honest with himself, he’ll see that Natalie isn’t the girl for him. She’s too uptight and far too reserved, and the minute Nate realized his attraction to me, his relationship with Natalie was destined for the express train to hell anyway, because unlike some guys’ ability to say no, it’s obvious that Nate doesn’t possess that willpower. He needs to get me out of his system and move on, because this infatuation of his isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and I have problems of my own. Like preparing for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner date with Ryder.

Shit.

I arrive at Nate’s place just five minutes after noon. I apply a dab of lipstick to my lips in the rearview mirror and I’m on my way, giving myself a mental pep talk as I step from the car. Ryder’s words haunt me the whole way up to Nate’s door.

Get to know me, not him.

I extinguish them immediately and knock.

CHAPTER 7

Nate answers the door in a casual blue oxford shirt, buttoned up tidily to the neck. I want to undo the top button—or two—and ruffle his hair a bit.

“Hey,” I say, my tone carrying a sensual lilt. My smile is a serpent’s smile, and I don’t dare take my eyes from his.

“Wow,” he breathes, blinking when he takes in the length of my tight sweater dress. His eyes drop down, then shoot back up. “Uh…hey. You’re here.”

“Can I come in?”

His mouth slackens slightly and he watches me carefully, like a lion is about to pounce on its prey before his very eyes.

It’s his lucky day. He’s going to get a front row seat to that spectacle.

My mind goes numb as I step past him, but my body is a live wire. Ryder’s words have been thrown to the very back of my skull, where I’m sure they’ll wreak havoc later, but for now, I’m safe. There’s no going back once I do this. No repairing my friendship—or whatever I have—with Natalie, and no undoing yet another nail in my coffin.

But this is what girls like me do, right? This is my path. Nothing exists beyond this fate. And it has to be done.

“So are you ready to go?” Nate asks, shutting the door quietly behind him. I begin to amble around his living room, checking out his various sports trophies and academic award plaques. I don’t see a lick of dust anywhere, and there are coasters on the coffee table. Coasters. With palm trees on them. We’re in the fucking Northwest.

I’m feeling more and more edgy as I stroll around the couch, and I decide it’s time to get down to business. Natalie is working at the diner until six tonight. I’ll see her in passing, when I go in for my shift.

I don’t dwell on that thought.

“What’s the rush?” I respond, sending him a coquettish smirk over my shoulder. His hands move to his pockets, and I see his Adam’s apple bob. His face is pinched with tension as he watches me prowl around his apartment.

“No—no—nothing,” he stutters, making a move for the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?” His voice is coarse and tight.

“Please.”

He opens the fridge and reaches for a bottle of water. “Something with more kick,” I say, before he even pulls it from the shelf.

“Oh.” He stills. “Okay, sure.” I hear him rifle around in the fridge for a few seconds as I study the picture frames on the wall. There are pictures of him with soccer and baseball teams, and shots of him with his family. Portrait-type shots, where they’re all fanned out beautifully on a massive lawn, the landscape dripping with elegant oak trees.

He returns with two beers and I thank him, clinking our bottles.

“Thanks for coming with me today,” he says, eyeing me as I lean forward to get a better look at his shots of the Grand Canyon.

I go straight for the kill. “Do you want to fuck me before we go shopping, Nate?”

Beer sprays from his lips and he struggles with a cough, but that doesn’t deter me. I begin to cruise toward him, taking a slow sip of my drink.

“Wh—what? Elise—”

“It’s a simple question,” I shrug, my smirk tipping my lips to dangerously challenging levels. “See, because I think you do. I want you to, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. So, I say we just cut through the bullshit and skip the whole dance. Show me to your bedroom.”

“Natalie—”

“Is working at the diner,” I finish for him. I drop my chin playfully and I reach out for him, placing my hands gently on his chest. He’s strung so tightly, the tension bubbling beneath his muscles pierces my fingers. God, has he been getting any at all? “We have plenty of time.” Leaning in, I nudge the edge of his jaw with my nose. My lips skim the space just below his ear and he hisses through clenched teeth.

“Elise,” he chokes out, gripping my shoulders. The muscles in his throat flex as I kiss a trail along his earlobe. “Natalie’s your friend.”

“She’s your friend.”

“She’s my girlfriend.”

I don’t respond, just back away slightly until I’m walking backwards, teasing him with a sway of my hips. I lock gazes with him and reach back for the zipper on my dress. His jaw is working so hard as he watches me, he’s going to chip some teeth. The sound of my zipper permeates the silence around us, and my sweater dress falls to the floor, forming a puddle around my feet.

“Holy shit,” Nate whispers, tugging at his collar. His eyes roll up to the ceiling and he begins tapping his fingers on his pant leg. It looks like he’s mentally counting to ten. My fingers reach behind my back again, this time locating the hook of my bra. In seconds, it’s undone and I’m standing before him in nothing but black lace panties and tall suede boots to match.

His eyes rip from the ceiling and land back on me, wide and desperate. He scans my body and I lean my weight on one hip, brushing my blonde locks over my shoulders so he gets a good look at my rack. “I can’t do this,” he says quietly. “Goddamn it, do I want to…you’re…fuck!” He covers his face and groans. “You’re so sexy, it’s killing me, Elise.”

“Then touch me.”

“Tell me not to.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You really want me to do this.”

Once again, I exchange words for action. I resume my prowl backwards and hook my thumbs into the sides of my panties, slowly wiggling them down my hips. A strangled sound emanates from Nate’s throat but he remains still, watching me feverishly. Just as my panties slide to my knees, I dip my fingers inside myself and then slowly withdraw them, bringing them to my lips. I suck on the tips and moan softly, fastening my eyes on his.

That’s all it takes.

He snaps and bolts forward so quickly, the breath is knocked from my lungs. His lips crash down on mine and I’m lifted off my feet and carried backward. My back slams into a wall and Nate’s hands are everywhere, groping my breasts, cupping my ass, and tearing my panties from my knees.

In seconds, my boots are off, and I scramble for his belt buckle. His fingers fumble over mine as we both work to get his pants off, followed by his shirt. I weave my fingers into his hair, gripping at the back of his head, and I lower him, guiding his mouth to my breasts. He latches on and sucks, and I reach down and wrap my hand around his cock, squeezing hard.

“You’re wicked,” he pants against the hollow of my throat as he trails back up to my lips. “So, so wicked.”

I bite down on his bottom lip and a little laugh simmers beneath my words. “You’ve wanted to be,” I whisper. “And now you are.”

He lifts me again and my legs fall around his waist as he carries me into his bedroom, where we collapse into a heap of pillows, sweat, and sin. I feel the roller coaster track clicking. Higher. Higher. Higher.

I’m right where I belong.

***

A lone tear sneaks down my cheek as I sit in my car. It’s raining and the heater’s on, creating splotches of fog on the windows. I stare out the front windshield, watching the droplets of rain hit the glass. They roll and merge, roll and merge, then slide down the car and back into the earth, where they’ll be useful again. Rinse and repeat. Beautiful.

I capture the rogue tear with my thumb and stifle a deep-building sob, one that I refuse to let out, because once it escapes, the dam will burst and I’ll drown myself right here, in my own car.

In less than five minutes, I have to step inside Stella’s. I have to say hello to Natalie and clock in for my shift, then go on for the next four hours pretending like my tryst at Nate’s never happened. Like I haven’t poisoned another man, another relationship.

My body feels limp as I pull it from the car and out into the rain. I dash inside Stella’s and shake out my hair, shivering as I remove my trench coat to hang it on the coat stand.

“Oh good, you’re here!” I hear her before I see her. Natalie trots up to me with a small gift box. It’s wrapped in red, green, and gold paper, and little golden specks of glitter give it a polished shine. Jay and Brad greet me from behind the counter in between speaking with customers at the bar. I nod to them but fix my eyes on the gift in front of me.

“What’s this?” I ask Natalie, wiping wet strands of hair from my face.

“It’s just a little Christmas gift,” she says modestly, talking it down like it’s not a pretty, well-presented present. She obviously went through a lot of trouble to wrap the thing. “I know it’s early, but since I’ll be out of town visiting family during Thanksgiving and Christmas, I decided I wanted to give it to you now. Besides,” her shoulders lift in a shrug, “my family has this geeky tradition. We give at least one person an early gift, right before Thanksgiving. And I’m just so freaking excited to give it to you, so…”

She thrusts the box in my face and all of the air punches from my lungs.

“Well?” She makes an excited clap. “Are you going to open it?”

“Um…” My throat restricts and I fight for breath. “Don’t you want me to take it home and open it on Christmas?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” She laughs, smoothing her red hair behind her ears. “No, open it now, lady!”

I survey the diner for the first time since I stepped through the door. The place is packed. No surprise there. I swivel around, in search of a place to set the box down. “Okay, here,” I say, leading Natalie to the end of the dining bar. My legs are jelly. There are two open seats and we squeeze into them, Natalie leaning forward expectantly while I struggle to keep my hands from shaking.