Page 31 of Best Things in Life

I’m going to have to tell Bigs it’s over, before anything more happens between me and Nate. Because I’m still fucking in love with my high school sweetheart. I laugh because I can’t hide the truth and it feels so good, like a pressure valve releasing the contents of my bloated conscience.

I nod. But I don’t say anything. Three years of wariness is a hard habit to break.

Nate gets up from bed and the sight his magnificent naked body makes me dizzy with desire. I clutch the sheets. My heart pounds against my rib cage so hard I’m afraid of my bones cracking. Because I may be a tough bitch on the outside, but on the inside… I know I have to tell Bigs it’s over between us today and I can’t stand the idea of breaking his heart.

But what if Bigs doesn’t care when I tell him it’s over? What if he’s relieved because he realizes that we’re not right for each other? It could happen and that would be a good thing. Sort of. I laugh because my stupid ego has the nerve to show up at a time like this. My relationship with Bigs is now a mockery and it would serve me right if he blew out a sigh of relief right in my face. And it would be funny in the most wicked way possible. I hope to hell that’s what happens.

While the rest of the house is still asleep, we shower and dress separately. He uses the hall shower and I’m in the shower off my bedroom. Stepping under the hot water, I relish the steamy lash and wish to fuck Nate were here with me. I imagine his hands on me, the way he’d run the bar of soap over my skin, down between my legs, making me even slicker than I am.

Then he’d drop the soap and slide his hands between my thighs… and I can’t resist lowering my hand and slipping my fingers into my swollen folds, finding the solid nub the way he would. Shit, I need him so much. He’d whisper in my ear sweet Cookie and how wet and sexy I am.

I flick my fingers over my clit and gasp as I keep moving them back and forth, sucking in quick breaths as I lean against the wet tiles and feel the tension coil, my thighs clenching together as I press hard and fast until my entire body contorts and I cry out his name, the waves of shocking pleasure rippling through me, my knees bent, almost collapsing under the torrent of the orgasm.

Forcing myself to stop, to stand still under the water and get my breathing under control, I shudder with the need to feel Nate inside me again. It’s so close, so within my grasp, but so fucking dangerous. Because he’s still the same guy who left me behind, who told me hockey first forever.

A shiver of fear runs up my spine and I shut off the water. Stepping from the shower, I face the day, face the fact that my Zia Rosaria is gone, the one person who I would have gone to with this problem. I wish I could cry on her shoulder, vent all my fears, and rid myself of all the tension and anger.

She’d tell me to be strong, tell me to stand up on my own. To let Bigs go because I don’t want him—not the way he wants me—and I don’t need him. And even as much as my zia loved Nate, she would tell me I don’t need him either. That I’m strong enough to stand without him.

“But Zia, I know I can stand without him,” I laugh-cry, sitting on my bed. Because the real problem is whether I’m strong enough to give him another chance, to take the risk of possibly losing him again. Forcing myself to separate need from want, I recognize that no matter how much I want him, long for him, weep for him, I don’t need him.

But she was a widow for many years, having lost the love of her life too soon, and so she knows about standing with one leg missing—that’s how she described the loss. She adapted and found her new kind of happiness. Not less, but different than what she had. That’s what I need to be prepared for, no matter what happens, because in the end even Zia Rosaria would tell me to take the chance because Nate is worth it and because she insisted that we would make the best babies in the world. I laugh and this time the crying is less and I wipe my tears and stand.

Dressing, my tears gone, I smile because I feel better either because my pep talk with Zia Rosaria’s ghost or because of the orgasm. Probably both, because I suddenly realize I haven’t been with Bigs the whole six weeks since I’ve been at SPU. No wonder he’s less than enchanted with me. But I can’t feel bad because I couldn’t force myself to be with him when I didn’t want to. That’s not somewhere I could go. And it feels good to admit to myself, to allow myself to want Nate, to know I can have him because he wants me.

But that doesn’t mean I can trust him. That’s the problem on my mind when I join him in the kitchen where he’s made a fresh pot of coffee. Like old times. Either his kitchen or mine, I can’t count the times he made coffee and we drank it together before our houses woke up, pretending like nothing happened between us the night before, like he hadn’t snuck into my room or snuck me into his to spend the night. I shiver as the memories converge with reality and he turns to me.

His eyes tell me he’s hungry. And wary at the same time.

“So this changes everything.” I repeat his words from last night as I sit next to him at the kitchen island. “Except you still have something to prove.”

“Giving up a chance with a West Coast team doesn’t prove anything?”

I shake my head. “You’re only speculating that they were interested in the first place,” I say. “And it’s not like you’re giving up hockey—not that I want you to give it up, Nate.” I steel myself. “You need to be as committed as I am for this to work between us. I don’t need you, Nate, but I want you, so I need to know you’re not going to leave me for hockey again. That you can commit to me and hockey, or we have nothing.”

“I will put you first, I swear—”

“Not with words. You need to prove—"

“I’ll prove it to you. I’ll ruin the SPU hockey team,” he says and I suck in a shaky breath because I know what he’s saying. “As soon as we get back to campus, I’ll tell Bigs about you and me.” My heart stutters and speeds up as all the implications of the day come crashing down on me. We’re burying my Zia Rosaria. I’m seriously going to start up again with Nate who I’ve been hating for three years. And throwing away my relationship with Bigs…

“Bigs is coming to the funeral,” I say. “He’ll be here in an hour.” I take a deep breath. “I’ll talk to him, but not here.”

Chapter 12

NATE

The Funeral

“What the hell are you talking about?” My blood rushes and I heat up, fear and excitement mingling in a dangerous way inside me, killing my resolve and control.

“I’ll be the one to tell Bigsby,” she says, “but not here today.”

“You tell him what you need to tell him and I’ll tell him that I want you and that I’ll do anything I can to win you back. I’ll tell him that because it’s true.”

“He’ll beat you to a pulp.”

“He’ll try. But we both know who’ll win that fight—if it comes to it.” I take a deep breath and steel myself like I’m about to dive into icy heart-stopping water. “That’s why I need to know how much you care about him. Really and truly. Deep down, past his money and family—”