Before Jamaica Lane (On Dublin Street #3)(21)
I smiled weakly, grateful that he was trying to cheer me up, but not really feeling cheered up.
'And this guy?' Nate continued gruffly. 'This guy at the library. You like him?'
Nodding, I dropped my head to my hands and groaned at my crappy situation. 'Yeah, I like him.'
Nate contemplated this, and when it appeared he wasn't going to say anything, I lifted my head from my hands and stared at him questioningly. He smirked at me.
'What?'
'You have next to no experience, and I have too much.'
My mouth twisted with annoyance. 'It's not really a good time to brag about that shit, Nathaniel.'
He grinned at me. 'I'm not bragging. I'm helping.'
'Helping?'
'Helping you.'
'Helping me how?'
'Helping you get laid.'
My cheeks grew even hotter. 'Uh … what?'
Appearing quite happy with himself, Nate leaned back against the counter, crossing one ankle over the other and his arms across his chest. 'I know sex. You don't. I'm going to teach you.'
Feeling a flush of … something … I blushed to my roots. 'How are … How does that … '
'First we work on your confidence. Next we work on your flirting. I'll get you to a point where you feel confident enough to approach this guy you like and ask him out.'
My heart was racing at the thought. 'I don't think you understand the magnitude of my ineptitude when it comes to men.'
'Well, that's the wrong attitude to start with.' He shook his head and leaned, palms down, on the counter, his face ducking so our noses were only inches apart. 'I may not do flowers, hearts, and all that shit with women, but you're my friend, and I consider myself the kind of person a friend can always turn to. Friends are important to me, Liv. And last night a friend cried in my arms and admitted she was unhappy.' He brushed my cheek affectionately. 'You deserve happiness, babe. What's the harm in letting me help you try to obtain it?'
'Nate,' I whispered hoarsely, my throat clogged with emotion. That was so effing nice I was seconds from bursting into big goofy tears.
'We'll take it step by step. We'll start off by trying to work out why you don't feel confident enough to talk to men you're attracted to.'
I nodded, and then winced when the movement caused a sharp streak of pain through my skull. 'But not today, right? Because I might puke on you.'
He grinned and straightened to his full height. 'Sexy. But no. Be ready, though.' He winked at me as he grabbed his jacket and readied to leave. 'Lessons start tomorrow.'
My mind was whirring with the turn the conversation had taken, so it wasn't until he was almost walking out the door that I realized I hadn't acknowledged what he was offering.
'Nate.'
He stopped, his hand on the door handle. 'Aye?'
My smile was slow but filled with appreciation. 'Thanks.'
Nate grinned and yanked the door open. 'Anything for you, babe.'
All throughout work I'd been a jittery mess, playing off my absentminded clumsiness as a result of day two of my epic hangover. Angus was sympathetic and let me spend most of the day in the back office doing quiet admin work, but that still didn't stop me from messing up, and sooner rather than later, his sympathy waned. When adding html to the library Web site, I'd advertised our new student pods incorrectly. We already had pods on the first floor where large groups could sit in a booth and use the computer for working together on projects and tutorials. Additional pods had been set up on the second floor, and these accommodated fewer people. This was explained in the main text, and then there was a picture of the pod and a little tagline that should have read, 'Maximum use: six.' Instead of 'six,' I wrote 'sex.'
We didn't know until Janey, a young colleague of mine who was obsessed with checking out the Facebook page 'Spotted: Edinburgh Uni Library' – a page used primarily for students to ask out students they'd seen in the library, but also a page for them to post about students who'd pissed them off in the library, or done one of a million disgusting things noted online – discovered it on the student page. It had greatly amused our student body. It had not greatly amused my boss.
He sent me home early, where I downed about six cups of tea in hopes of finding whatever harmony it was that British people thought tea provided. No harmony to be found.
Nate was coming over to start our lessons and I was ready to upchuck what little I'd eaten all over him.
About twenty minutes before the time he was set to arrive, my dad called me. He was over at Dee's and they were inviting me to dinner.
'I'd love to, Dad, but I can't. Nate's coming over.'