And I couldn't do this. It wasn't enough.
Shaking my head, I stepped to the side so he couldn't back me into the corner. 'Nate, you have to leave.'
Instead he studied me carefully. 'You're not ready to hear this yet,' he concluded. 'But I do need you to know that I'm going to fight for you. I'm not making the mistake of walking away from you again. The only man in your future is me, Liv. The only kids in your future are mine.' Nate opened my front door, dug into his pocket and produced my key. He held it out to me and I took it tentatively, confused by the action. 'I don't need to break into your life. You've put up a locked door between us and I understand why. But I'm going to stand outside it, bugging the absolute shit out of you.' He smiled wryly. 'Until you let me back in.' His expression changed like a black cloud rolling in unexpectedly. 'I'll warn you, though – you let that Ben guy in the door … I'll start fighting dirty.'
Before I could respond, Nate slipped out, leaving me split in two.
Part of me was desperate to call him back, to savor those three little words that spilled from his lips. Savor them over and over again.
The bigger part of me, however, knew it wasn't enough. Maybe it was selfish, but I didn't just want Nate to love me. I wanted him to love me the way I loved him. The kind of love that's so big it would last beyond a lifetime.
The kind of love he had for Alana.
I don't know what I expected. Nate always had such a laid-back approach to life that I wasn't sure if he would really fight for me. Honestly, I was kind of hoping he wouldn't because it would make it easier for me to keep saying no.
The day after his little visit to my apartment, however, a basket of chocolates from my favorite chocolate boutique in the city was delivered to my work with a note from Nate:
We have a date with melted chocolate waiting in our future … I'm going to paint you with it and lick my fill until you … Well, what is it the French call it? La petite mort. I love you.
Nate
Not only had he had no qualms about writing something like that on a gift card that the delivery person could see, but I also had to deal with my colleagues, who'd ripped the card out of my hands before I could stop them.
Angus grinned as he handed it back to me. 'He used a French phrase for orgasm. That's classy. I say he's a keeper.'
'He wrote about orgasms on an apology gift,' I said, pointing out the obvious. 'That's classy?'
'No, but it's bloody hot,' Jill chimed in, frowning at me. 'Get back with him, you silly cow. Do you know how many men do stuff like this?' She poked at the gorgeously wrapped basket of goodies. 'Not many.'
I spent the rest of the day scowling at my basket of chocolates.
The next day a large gift-wrapped box arrived at work and I took it into the staff room to open in private. Of course as soon as Jill saw the box, she told Angus and Angus told Ronan and all privacy was obliterated. They'd stood behind me as I pulled off the black satin ribbon and opened the pale pink box. Under layers of tissue I found a beautiful and very expensive black lace and satin bustier, matching high-cut panties, and silk stockings. They came with a card:
Beautiful, sexy, sensual. The underwear is nice too. I hope one day you'll wear it for me, but if you don't, I hope at least when you put it on you'll see what I see in you when you look in the mirror. I love you. Nate.
I'd ended up crying in the bathroom after that, cursing Nate Sawyer to hell and hoping that tomorrow wouldn't bring another gift that would push me closer to opening that goddamn door. In a stupid effort to somehow outmaneuver him I called Benjamin that night and arranged to meet him for coffee after work the next day at his favorite café, not far from the library. The hope being that his presence would remind me that life didn't begin and end with Nate and I could move on. I could, I could, I could, I could.
The day after, I was manning the help desk when security came over with another package for me. This time it was a small parcel with an envelope attached. My heart thumping, I ignored Wendy, who was working beside me, and opened it.
A Blu-Ray disc of The Wizard of Oz.
Tears pricked my eyes and I felt strangely nervous as I fumbled for the envelope. Taking a deep breath, I began to read the handwritten letter from Nate.
Dear Liv,
It's time we upgraded your favorite movie to this century, even if it is The Wizard of Oz.
And just so you know: If you were a movie you'd be The Godfather – I could watch you over and over and over and over again because … well, you're my favorite.