Page 28 of Getting It Twisted

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Page 28 of Getting It Twisted

He scoffs. “That rat trap? I’d rather spend my cash on other shit.”

“Like what—booze and whores?”

“Booze, sure, but I haven’t ever had to pay anyone to fuck me. It’s been the other way around though.”

“Is that how you made your money on the road? By selling yourself to dirty old men?”

“Maybe. You want a demonstration?” He gets up from the floor and saunters toward me.

“A demonstration of what?” I’m not stupid; this is yet another of his attempts to get me into bed, and his need to distract himself from whatever’s plaguing him.

“I think you know.”

“Ithinkyou should come to the party. And try to behave, all right? George isn’t thrilled with you being back in town.”

“He’s not? I bet he’d be thrilled to return the favor.” Nathan grins and grips the bridge of his nose. His smile falls as quickly as it came, and his voice goes low and dark. “You think I don’t know what this is?”

“It’s nothing but a party. A party where you’ll get your key.”

His suspicious glare doesn’t budge. He’s unpredictable when he’s in this mood. My best bet is to play it casual and get into the subject of partying, alcohol, and drugs. And sex. Sex always gets his attention.

“It’s not all business, you know. Might be fun too.”

The reaction is immediate: His impassive mask melts off, and his mouth tilts in a sly, suggestive smirk.

“Oh really? More fun than the time I got spit roasted by two guys in the back of a van?”

This time, I can’t help it. My imagination takes off at full throttle, and I picture Nathan sucking cock and getting pounded from behind in some cramped, filthy van. In my mind, he’s fully in his element, enjoying it to the max. But something tells me it wasn’t as much fun for him as he claimed. I have my fair share of self-destructive tendencies, but Nathan takes the prize by a long shot.

I clear my throat and will the images away. “So you’re coming?”

“I guess.”

“What about George?”

“As long as he doesn’t come between you and me, he’s got nothing to fear.”

“There’s nothing for him to come between. Not anymore.” My voice is hard, laced with five years’ worth of sorrow and disappointment. “Everything we had, you ruined. You have to understand that.”

Nathan blinks, and . . . What’s that? A crease of his brow, and a flicker of pain he’s unable to hide.

“I’m . . . I’m sorry, okay?” His dark locks fall into his face as he hangs his head. “I’m sorry, Daniel.”

“Are you?” I can’t help but bait him a little, but the significance of what he just said isn’t lost on me. Nathan doesn’t apologize. Not to anyone. Not with words anyway.

“Yes, fuck . . . Please believe me.”

I’ve waited five years to hear those words, and yet is it enough? In his absence, the depression that always lurked in the back of my mind surged past the surface. It wasn’t entirely his fault, to be fair. He did act like an asshole, but he couldn’t have known the effect him leaving would have on me. And it probably wasn’t his intention to hurt me that bad.

I can’t know for sure though. Goddamn it, why do I keep defending him?

“Just come to the party. And remember to behave, okay?”

His mouth quirks up, and some of his regular old self comes back out to play, eyes glittering under his lashes. “When do I ever not behave?”

Once again, I’m far drunker than I meant to be. When George drinks, he expects everyone else to guzzle as many shots as he does, which is inconvenient tonight, since I planned to keep a sharp mind to handle whatever’s about to go down.

I have a hard enough time handling Nathan on his own. Handling him in close proximity to George? A whole other ball game.




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