In My Bed Read online

  Hmm…

  Me and Nate on a Ferris wheel? In my imagination, we’re doing more than that. We’re fucking rocking the carriage and he’s rocking my world.

  Imagine that.

  Chapter 8

  “We’re probably going to leave soon,” Rachel tells me as we wash our hands in the bathroom.

  “All the sex talk tonight during the game got you a little riled up?” I tease.

  She doesn’t say anything, but the smile that was just in her eyes a moment ago spreads to her lips. After a moment, her eyes lock with mine in the mirror and I can tell she just got done with Jake, doing a little imaginary fucking of her own.

  I laugh a little at her lack of embarrassment and go to dry my hands. When I met Rachel, she was super uncomfortable with her sexuality. During our first little girl talk, she could barely get the words out when she told me that she had only slept with one boyfriend in high school. I didn’t see having only slept with one person as a problem—I still don’t—but I did see a problem with the fact that she could barely say the word sex. It was in that moment that I decided to get her comfortable with herself and with sex.

  I’m not out to make her like me, I just want her not be scared of or embarrassed about sex. I think that the more we talk about it—the more she talks about it—the more comfortable she will be. At my insistence, she’s told me nearly every detail about every guy she’s slept with since we met, with less and less blushing each time. But even though she was able to talk about her experiences, her descriptions seemed almost bored. I’m not a pervert, but I want to know that my friend is enjoying her sex life. Sex should be fun and feel good. Otherwise, what’s the point?

  And after three years of hearing about the small group of guys she’s been with, this is the first time she smiles when she talks about it. And that makes sense because based off of the stories she has told me at Sunday lunch, she seems to really be enjoying herself with Jake.

  “It’s okay, Rach. I’m feeling a bit frisky myself,” I say, bumping my shoulder into hers as we exit the bathroom and walk back to our table.

  Rachel and Jake says their goodbyes as soon as we get there, and it’s just me and the three boys.

  “That was a quick exit,” I say after they leave.

  “Yeah,” Brian says as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen him relaxed all week. Whenever we have band practice, he’s always just waiting for it to end so he can get back in bed with her.” He looks down and reads a message, the smile falling from his face as he types back a response.

  “Everything okay, Brian?” Nate asks.

  “Uh, yeah. I’ve just got to go.” He quickly stands.

  “You can’t drive, man. Call a cab,” Toby say.

  “I’m not going far. I’ll just walk,” he says before walking out of Charlie’s.

  “And that was an even quicker exit,” I joke, smiling at the guys.

  “Yeah,” Nate says with a stiff smile on face, still looking at the place where Brian was just sitting.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask when I finally realize through my beer haze that the mood of the table has shifted.

  After a moment, Toby looks over at me with a real smile on his face, “Yeah, it’s great. Or it will be once I get that girl to go home with me,” he says with a smirk as he points at a tall brunette near the bar.

  “You think you can?” I tease, raising a brow.

  “I do. I just have a feeling about her,” he tells me as he stands. “See you guys later.”

  Nate and I both watch as he goes up to the bar and whispers in the girl’s ear. She giggles and leans into him.

  “Well, that was pretty easy for him,” I say before turning to Nate.

  “Don’t be too impressed. She came over here while you and Rachel were in the bathroom and gave him her number. I’ve seen her at some of our shows,” he explains, still watching them.

  I take in his profile—the slight bump in his nose, the light stubble on his strong jaw, and his prominent brow—and when he turns to look at me, our eyes connect. This time my heart doesn’t skip a beat; it races as it tries to pound out of my chest and into his hands.

  Shut up, stupid heart.

  “And then there were two,” I say, my voice sounding low and seductive even though I mean it to sound friendly.

  After a moment of electric silence, Nate clears his throat and looks back at the bar. “I think we should head out. I’ll walk you home and catch a cab from your dorm.”

  “You don’t have to, Nate. It’s only a few blocks.”

  He looks at me, his face darkening. “You’re not walking alone. You’ve been drinking and it’s after one in the morning. It’s not safe.”

  “Okay then. You’re walking me home.” I smile, trying to get that look out of his eyes. “And you’re right, it probably wouldn’t be the safest to walk alone.”

  He smiles as we stand. “Besides, your apartment is ten blocks closer to my place than Charlie’s. It’ll save me a couple bucks on cab fare,” he says as we get out onto to the street and out of the noise of the bar.

  “More like less than a buck.” My smile grows now that we’re joking again. “Thanks for walking me home, Nate.”

  “No problem, Jenna.”

  We walk in a comfortable silence for a block when I realize that he’s looking down at me. I stop moving. “Why are you looking at me? You should be looking forward when you walk. You put yourself, and others, at risk when you don’t pay attention to where you’re walking,” I say with mock seriousness. “It’s a really reckless thing to do, Nate.”

  He chuckles, coming to a stop himself. “It’s just that I realized I never told you how much I like what you did with your hair,” he says with a small smile.

  “Oh, thanks. It was time for a change.”

  “Well, I like it.”

  I smile, liking his compliment more than I should. We walk another block before I blurt out, “Can I ask you a question?”

  He chuckles. “Sure.”

  “You’ve really never been to a strip club?” I ask, still unbelieving. I’m not sure why I care so much, but something about the way that Toby interjected during that conversation and the fake smile that was on Nate’s face has me curious.

  He shakes his head no, not giving me a verbal response. That sweet smile that was on his face a second ago is now forced.

  I still push forward. “I find that hard to believe since all of your friends have been. That’s usually something guys do together.” I’m feeling a little nosy—and a little drunk. I might be pushing it, but something tells me there is more there.

  “They have been together, I just didn’t go with them.”

  “Why not? It’s fun.” I smile.

  He shakes his head with that forced smile still on his face. “Not important.”

  “Come on, Nate, you can tell me. Honestly, I probably won’t even remember in the morning. I’m way more drunk than I thought I was.” I giggle and stumble a little as I walk, unintentionally proving my point.

  He chuckles, shaking his head as he reaches out to make sure I don’t fall.

  “See! Look at that! I just almost fell! And I never fall. I’m a dancer. I have extreme poise and precision,” I tell him seriously right before I stumble again.

  At that, he starts to really laugh—and then he snorts. He actually snorts.

  “Yes!” I say loudly, stopping and doing a victory dance.

  He’s still laughing as he asks me, “What are doing? You’re all over the place, Jenna.”

  “No, I’m not. I just got you to snort!” I say with a big smile on my face. “When all the guys said you snorted when you laughed, I made it my goal to make you snort. That was the best thing I’ve ever done,” I finish, my smile growing even bigger.

  He throws his head back laughing harder at my response, and then he snorts again. I think I like his laugh with that snort even more than I like it without it.


  “Oh my god! You’re a snort machine” I say, laughing so hard that I snort. I stop laughing, my eyes widening surprised at myself. Nate pauses as well and it’s silent for a moment before we both start cracking up so hard we’re barely breathing. I grab on to Nate, not wanting to fall, and he holds me up as we catch our breath.

  It takes a minute, but we both finally calm down. We don’t move from each other’s arms and I’m so close all I can do is I look at him—not that I’d want to look anywhere else. I’m still holding on to him, my hands on his shoulders, and his hands are on my lower back. My body is pressed against his, lining up like our bodies were molded to fit this way. Our faces are close and his heavy breaths are rustling my hair as his eyes blink slowly. I start to smile and lean in to touch my lips to his, the alcohol in my system leading the way, but before I can get too close, he starts talking.

  “I only do it when I’m drunk,” he says, referring to his snorting. “Well, that’s not true. I do it when I’m sober too. It has to do with my breathing.”

  I’m not sure if he was trying to avoid kissing me, or if he just didn’t know what I was doing, but either way I’m glad for the conversation distraction. I haven’t talked to Rachel yet, and I’m drunk. I make it rule a not to hook-up with a new guy when I’m drunk because it reduces the opportunity for regret in the morning. When sober, people make better choices, myself included.

  “Well, I think I’ve only ever snorted once. Just now,” I reply with a smile. “But I like your little snort.”

  “Some girls do find it charming.” He smiles, stepping back from me, feigning shyness and looking like he’s about to say, “Aw, shucks.” He continues with the artificial self-consciousness, looking down as he puts his hands in his pockets and kicks the ground, in an exaggerated gesture. His head stays down, but his eyes flick to me before he says, “They find it kind of endearing.”

  I laugh. “Pretending to be self-conscious like that usually gets you a lot of tail?”

  “It used to, but then again, it wasn’t an act. After high school, it took me a while before I got comfortable with who I was. Besides, I’m not really looking to get a lot of tail these days,” he answers with a smile, shaking his head as he repeats my word choice.

  “If it matters, I much prefer confident Nate. I think you should own that snort,” I say raising my arm in the air. “Claim it, Nate.”

  He laughs. “Where were you when I was in high school? The girls back then weren’t as enthusiastic about it.”

  “Really? Because I think it’s cute,” I say with a smile, taking my finger and touching it to the tip of his nose. “It’s very awkward-boy-next-door turned really-hot-guy-grown-up. Every girl loves a transformation story.”

  “Yeah, I used to get that a lot when I first moved out here. People thought I was that wholesome Midwestern guy from a small town, my muscles grown from meat and potatoes and working on the family farm,” he tells me, flexing one of his biceps as he says it.

  “So you grew up on a farm?”

  “Hell no.” He chuckles. “I grew up on an Army base, Fort Leavenworth in Kansas. My dad was a mechanic in the Army, my mom did clerical work, and I grew up on macaroni and cheese. I was the middle child, and only boy. My dad taught us all how to fix cars, even though the twins, they’re my older sisters, didn’t really care about it. But anyway, that’s how I got the knowledge to rebuild my truck engine.”

  “So you used your little act to manipulate girls into sleeping with you?” I joke.

  His smile fades, and even though we were looking at each other before, it’s almost like his eyes focus in better and lock onto mine. The look in them makes my smile drop as well. “I would never manipulate someone,” he says seriously.

  There is silence between us, and I instantly become aware that we’ve been standing in the middle of the sidewalk late at night having a conversation for who knows how long. We’re now a block off of the main road, the night sounds swirling around us, but all I can hear is the quiet lingering between us. This is the type of intense stare that would normally get my body tingling, but instead, my stomach drops with regret. Obviously, I’m having a problem picking up on social cues while my mind is fogged from the effects of alcohol.

  I clear my throat before I put a small smile back on my face, trying to reduce the amount of damage I may have done with that comment. “I was kidding about that, Nate. It was a joke. I haven’t known you long, but I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t manipulate someone.”

  He heaves a big sigh, his chest rising and falling. “I know, it’s just something I have experience with. Men manipulating women.”

  He’s not the only one. My smile falls again as I think about Simon’s manipulation of me. I stand there silently as I watch him struggle with a thought, opening and closing his mouth a few times before giving another big sigh.

  “My sister.”

  I blink slowly a few times, shaking my head. “What?”

  He starts to walk again and I follow, catching up to him quickly. “One of the twins, Tabby, had a guy she was seeing in high school. He was older and married. She got pregnant and had the baby nine months later. He was always promising her things, but in the end never came through.”

  “That guy sounds like a total douche.”

  He smiles, but it’s strained. “You’ve got that fucking right. If the guy didn’t have fifteen years on me, I would’ve beat his ass. The twins are seven years older than me, so they didn’t technically tell me all of this, I just heard them talking about it at night. I knew the basics, but not all of the details. They didn’t even tell my parents everything. They kept a lot of the details about who the guy was a secret.

  “She eventually got tired of the guy’s bullshit and told him he could pay child support or get lost. She just hated the back and forth, and it’s not like he couldn’t afford child support. Anyway, the asshole got lost and she never saw him again. Neither has my nephew, Robbie.”

  “Now I know that guy is a douche. Who does that to their child?”

  “More people than you think.” His eyes glaze over for a moment. “My family helped her as much as they could, but we’re working class and my parents couldn’t help much with childcare since they both had to work to support me and my younger sisters. Tabby dropped out of high school when she was pregnant, so she had a hard time finding work. She ended up becoming a stripper to support herself and Robbie.” He pauses, shaking his head a little. “And that’s the reason why I don’t go to strip clubs. I would eavesdrop on Tabby while she told Carrie, her twin, about her manager there and the sleazy guys who would come in. Strip clubs don’t seem fun to me because all I’d be able to see and hear is Tabs crying when she talked about it late at night.”

  “Nate, I’m so sorry she had to go through that.”

  “I know not everyone’s experience as a stripper is like hers, but I just can’t see past that. She only worked there for about a month before my parents found out she was earning her money stripping. They made her get her GED and enroll in online courses at the local community college. She’s a medical assistant now, and working on getting her degree in nursing.” He’s smiling as he finishes the story and I find that so am I. “I’m proud of her.”

  “You should be. Hell, I haven’t even met her and I am. It’s really hard just going to school, let alone working as a single mom and supporting your child on your own.”

  He laughs a little and nods his head. “She’d like you,” he says, turning his head to look at me and smile.

  “Duh. I’m super likable.”

  He laughs that big laugh, without the snort this time, and looks over at me. “You know, this is something that I don’t really like to talk about. Toby knows about it, that’s why he distracted you when we were back at Charlie’s. But surprisingly, it wasn’t hard to talk about with you. It was easy. Everything with you seems easy.”

  “You think I’m easy?” I joke, and thanks to my drunken haze I realize too late that it’s th
e wrong response. He looks vulnerable and nervous after opening up about his sister, but I made a joke. I hate myself for doing that because as much as I don’t want to admit it, I want to know Nate—really know him. This is the first step and I went and fucked it up.

  He clears his throat and starts walking again, but I grab his hand, stopping his progress. Our palms touch, and I ignore the electricity that sparks at the contact. For the first time in years, I’m concerned about an emotional relationship with a guy instead of a physical one. I don’t take the time to think about whatever is changing between us.

  “Nate, wait.” My voice is quiet and laced with regret. “You didn’t have to share all of that with me, but I’m glad you did. It means a lot that you feel like you could open up about that part of your life. I’m sorry I made a joke.”

  The smile he gives me is full of an emotion I want to run away from, but for some reason, I can’t. “It’s okay. I kind of set myself up for that. And anyway, I like the side of you that makes light in heavy situations. Truthfully, I like every side of you I’ve seen so far,” he says, his voice getting quiet as he turns to continue walking.

  I know what he means because I feel the same way. This is getting a little emotional and I’m drunk and I’m more attracted to Nate than I‘ve ever been to anyone ever. This is a recipe for disaster, and the danger is only more present now that I know I care about him. His words are affecting me more than I want them to, but I still can’t stop myself from moving forward. I tell myself that what I’m feeling is friendship and that it’s nothing more.

  “And besides, it’s your turn to share next time,” he says with a smile, pausing and waiting for me to catch up the few steps so we’re walking side by side again.

  We walk another dark block with just the sound of our feet hitting the pavement. When we turn the corner, I can see my dorm a block ahead of us. “Thanks for walking me home,” I say again, looking up at him.

  “You already said that.” He smiles.

  “I know.” The smile on my face grows, and I don’t know why. “Do you want to come up?” I ask him.