Before Jamaica Lane (On Dublin Street #3)(22)

'Nate's always over,' Dad replied, not sounding happy about that.

'Nate's my friend.'

'Hmmph.'

'Dad.'

'He's a player.'

'We're just friends,' I promised, although my skin was tingling with the anticipation of the possibilities for tonight. What on earth was he really going to be able to teach me? And how would he do it? I was going to die of embarrassment. I just knew it. Nate was all sex and charisma. He probably had a mouth on him. No, I knew he had a mouth on him. Would he expect me to talk to guys the way he talked to girls? 

My eyes bugged out at the thought.

'Liv, you there?'

'Yeah, Dad.'

'Dee's asking if you'd like to come over for dinner on Wednesday night instead?'

'Sounds great. I'll be there.'

'How are you feeling today? Still hungover? You were pretty smashed at the wedding.'

I nervously ran my fingers through my hair as I tried to think back to the reception. 'Did I, uh, say anything embarrassing?'

Dad laughed. 'No. You were a funny drunk, sweetheart. Who took you home, by the way? You never said when I texted you yesterday.'

'Nate took me home. He's decent like that,' I pointedly reminded him.

'If you say so.'

My buzzer sounded and I flinched. 'Got to go, Dad. Nate is here.'

We said good-bye quickly and I hung up as I hurried to the door to let Nate in. I was standing tapping my foot impatiently as I waited for him. The sounds of his footsteps in the concrete stairwell seemed to match the rhythm of my heartbeat, and by the time he appeared in my doorway I was just about ready for passing out.

Nate reared back at the sight of me. 'Christ, you look as though you're about to faint.'

I gulped. Loudly. 'Nervous over here.'

He shut the door behind him, grimacing. 'What the hell for? It's just me.'

I glared at him.

'Okay. Be nervous.' He strode past me, shrugging out of his jacket. He threw it on the couch and then walked into the kitchen to take two beers out of the fridge. I caught the one that he tossed to me. Uncapping his beer, he gestured to me with the bottle. 'To calm your nerves.'

When he didn't say anything for five minutes  –  five very long minutes  –  I sat down on the arm of my couch and took a sip of beer.

'Okay, talk me through it.' Nate suddenly spoke up and I almost coughed on my beer at the seeming loudness of his voice in my little flat. 'What happens exactly when a guy you're attracted to speaks to you?'

Trying not to be any more of a dork than I already was, I fought back the blush that was determined to stain my cheeks. 'I get tongue-tied.'

'Why?'

'I'm very tempted to insert a sarcastic reply here, but I'll just go with a simple shrug.' I shrugged.

'Don't give me that "I don't know, and if I did, I wouldn't need you" bullshit. Why do you get tongue-tied?'

I was really attempting not to get pissed at him. That wouldn't be a good start. Clenching my teeth, I answered as if it was obvious  –  which it so was  –  'I don't have a lot of confidence.'

Nate considered me a moment. 'In yourself? In your looks? In your sexual experience? What?'

'Do you know how mortifying this is?' I scowled at him.

Clearly annoyed, Nate narrowed his eyes at me. 'I'm not here to make fun of you. I'm here to help you.'

We were quiet again as I gathered together the confidence to be honest. After taking a shaky sip of my beer, I looked at the floor and told him quietly, 'You already know I lack confidence because of my minimal sexual experience, but  …  I also just don't  …  don't feel sexually attractive.'

His silence drew my gaze to him. He was looking at me incredulously again.

'What?'



       
         
       
        

He put his beer down and planted his palms on the counter like he meant business. 'Let's start with how you don't feel sexually attractive.'

I gulped. 'All right.'

'Are you fucking kidding me?'

I jerked back at his curse, confused by the angry tone of the question. 'What?'

'Get up,' he replied sharply. 'Come on, get up.' He rounded the kitchen counter and walked past me.

I got up slowly, wondering what the hell I'd done wrong.

'Follow me.'

Follow him  …  all right. My legs trembled when I realized I was following him into my bedroom. With my heartbeat pulsing in my throat, I was unable to speak as I stopped in my doorway and gazed at him.

He stood before my full-length mirror and gestured to it. 'Tell me what you see.'

I swallowed past the heartbeat. 'Nate  … ' I took a step back and my movement shot him into action. Lightning-quick, he had hold of me and was tugging me back into the room with him until he'd maneuvered me in front of the mirror, while he stood looking into it over my shoulder.