8th February

Hangovers hit a whole lot different at the ripe old age of twenty-four. It's offensive how awful I feel after one evening of throwing back shots and sipping on watermelon martinis.

Thank goodness mom took Lydia to school this morning. I got an hour of extra sleep before I had to be at work.

Cleaning is a hell all of it's own.

Nathan gets home from work when Lydia and I are dragging our small suitcases out into the living room. He's in his work hoodie, boots and those pale brown slacks that hug his ass so well.

"Nathan," Lydia rolls her bag behind her and runs over to him. "We're going on the plane!"

"Sure are," he gives her a fist bump. "You excited?"

"Yes. I'm excited to see my uncle and aunt. Especially uncle Drayton because he's so funny. But I do love my aunt Dallas too."

Nathan stares at her, a tight smile on his mouth. "Mmm, I can't wait to see your uncle too. I just love spending time with him. In public is when it's best."

I bite down on a giggle at his blatant sarcasm. Lydia doesn't hear it though. "Are you friends with my aunt Dallas?"

Nathan takes his gloves and beanie off and slips them into the basket. "She's my sister."

Lydia turns her face up in thought, she has such a dramatic thinking pose. "I don't have a sister. Or a brother. Maybe my mom will have another baby one day. I think I'd like that because I could give the baby a bottle. But not change the diaper. Yuck."

Nathan looks at me but I'm quick to divert my attention to the bundle of passports and tickets, checking I have all of it. Classic Lydia, dropping me into a vat of awkward tension and borderline humiliation.

I need to talk to Lydia about her dad and I. Telling her that he was gone for a while was the first step. I think I need to let her know he and I are no longer a couple. I'm not sure how to broach it or if it's even the right time. But if I ever decide to move on, it's better she knows I'm single in advance.

It's unfair that I have to have these conversations with her at all, but this is our reality and sweeping it under the rug won't help. It won't make it any less real.

"Gabrielle," Nathan's deep voice saying my name should not elicit such a reaction from me, but it's involuntary at this point. I peer up at him and remember all the sweet things he said and did for me last night. He's an absolute wet dream. "Can we talk for a minute?"

Panic sets in because I have no clue what he could want to talk about that requires us to be in private. Thoughts of him dragging me into the bedroom and kissing me like he's starved cause me to short circuit. It's constant, the fantasies, the desire, my thoughts almost run off with me but he crosses the living room, his brows raised in question.

I give him a quick nod and set our passports and tickets down on the bench top. I let Lydia know she can watch television for ten minutes and then follow Nathan, all broad shouldered and tight ass. I'm still staring at the size of it when he turns around and holds the door knob, waiting for me to get inside the room.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

Nathan shuts my bedroom door. "Nothing's wrong."

"Well, what's going on?"

He faces me, hands sliding into his pockets. "I have a couple of students on the football team, as well as freshmen that want to try out next semester that need tutoring to get their grades up. English seems to be the main subject but math too. I wondered if you wanted to tutor them? The parents are willing to pay. Could be a little extra income?"

I blink. "You dragged me in here for that?"

"Yeah I—"

"You could've told me this in the living room, Nathan. Shit," I let out a long breath, palming my forehead. "I thought it was something bad."

"Like what?"

I throw my hands up. "I don't know."

Alright, the fantasies weren't all bad and I pretend not to be disappointed that he's not ravishing me against the wall right now. We need to stop blurring the lines between us and he's respecting that, outwardly anyway. Part of me hopes he's pining on the inside too.

He rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah, I see how that might've seemed a bit worrisome. Well, no stress. It's just tutoring. Interested? I thought after last night's conversation you might be the best person to ask. If some of these freshman want on the team next season they're going to have to get their shit together."

I like that he thought about me for the job, aware of my strengths and the places I wanted to go after high school.

"I don't know. I have Lydia after school, which I'm guessing is when students would be available for tutoring."

"You can do it here," he suggests. "I'll help with Lydia for an hour so she's looked after. We can make it work if you want to do it. If you're not up for it, I'll tell them to look elsewhere."

He's told me before that he has no problem helping with Lydia, but that hesitation still creeps in and prevents me from wanting to accept his help. Josh thought of helping with her care as a chore, he referred to it as babysitting and made me feel like he had far more important things to do. It was my job to do the full time care, that's what mom's are good for, right?

Nathan never makes me feel like Lydia is a chore, and he has less obligation to her than anyone. He loves spending time with her, he seems to appreciate helping me. It shouldn't be hard to accept the offer, but I gnaw on my lip, struggling all the same.

"We can give it a trial run?" He offers when I stand there, meeting him with the silence of internal struggle. "We'll see how it goes and if it doesn't work, we call it quits. But I'm sure it won't be hard to keep Lydia occupied for an hour after school."

"Sure," I relent, doing my best to focus on the fact that he's so willing to help me, rather than feel the weight of being a burden. "Thanks for thinking of me. I appreciate it."

The weight of his stare settles in the pit of my stomach. "I'm never not thinking about you, Gabrielle."

I'm two seconds from jumping him when there's a loud thump on the door and I flinch. The little knocking is the universe telling me to close my legs. Well, not the universe, my universe.

"Mommy?" Lydia's little voice is muffled behind the door. "Nathan? Boys and girls aren't supposed to have bedroom doors closed. Mrs King said that at school. No doors closed."

Nathan and I share a look, quietly laughing. I should open the door and let her know we're behaving but I want to see how far her telling off will go.

"Are you kissing?"

I balk, slapping a hand across my mouth. I'm not sure what prompted her to make that assumption but considering I'm not in here with her father, I wonder what she thinks of the adult relationships in her life. Doesn't she know that in a relationship, kissing is just meant for those two people? I'm sure I've explained that to her before.

Nathan slides his hands into his pockets and grins, whispering, "should we?"

"Should we what?"

"Kiss."

I tap his arm with the back of my hand. "Nathan."

Lydia shouts again, in time with her fist smacking the door. "Kissing is gross."

Nathan steps closer and I swallow. "She already thinks we are. Imagine looking back on this when she's old enough and telling her she was right."

My heart does a little skip. "Thinking that far ahead are we?"

His hand slips onto the back of my neck and he tugs me in. "Always."

Our mouths collide and my hands shoot up to hold his biceps as he kisses me so hard I arch back and he towers over me. I know this is a terrible idea, I know we'll both end up a mess if we keep doing this. I'm expecting his tongue to slip in, but it doesn't. His mouth is bruising for a few seconds and then he breaks apart, pecking me on the forehead as he goes.

I feel like the room is spinning as I find my balance. Nathan doesn't give me the chance to get my bearings before he swings the door open and ruffles Lydia's hair.

"Come on, kid. Time for our flight. You good to go?"

Lydia doesn't spare me a glance or bother interrogating us, she skips after him, blabbering something about how excited she is.

Screw Nathan and his magic mouth and sweet words and all the ways he continues to confuse me. I don't know what the fuck he wants from me but I'm starting to unravel at the seams. He's on and off, hot and cold and indecisive on whether he thinks kissing is a good idea or not.

                        Nathan is one of those men who takes charge. In most aspects. He leads us through the airport, check in, getting our luggage in the overhead compartment, all of those parts about travelling that can feel a little bit stressful, more so with a child.

Lydia begged us for the window seat, so she's watching the ground below us while I sit in the middle and Nathan is on the aisle.

He sits with his legs spread and his arms folded. The flight is just over two hours and I'm not sure how I'm meant to sit here and pretend he hasn't thrown me through a loop this afternoon. I can't talk to him about it while Lydia is less than a foot away though.

She has headphones in while she listens to music on my phone, but still. I can't risk her hearing that.

"What did you get Dallas for her birthday?" Nathan asks.

I exhale a loud slow breath and angle away, ignoring him like an insolent brat. I got her a photo book made of all the professional shots she's had taken during shows. It's hard to get a gift for someone who can surprise you with flights to California at no notice. At least I know she appreciates the smaller things in life, materialism has never beheld her.

"Gabrielle?"

I hate how his voice demands attention. So authoritative and deep and hot. Still, I manage to stay strong and ignore him. Suddenly, I feel him closing in, he gets closer, his breath fanning my neck and ear lobe.

He whispers, "I got her a key tag that says 'I want to fuck your best friend.'"

I twist around so fast our noses are almost touching. "That, right there, is the problem."

His brows pinch, those deep brown eyes sucking me in, golden flecks and rings of black on the outer edges. He has the prettiest stare that's ever seen me. Really seen me.

"You're confusing me, Nathan."

He leans back, running a hand over his face. We can't keep doing this back and forth but both of us are drawn to each other and no matter how often we talk about being sensible, we're right back to square one with the flirting and teasing.

Part of me never wants it to end, the other part of me doesn't know if my heart will survive the come down.

"I'll quit it," he mumbles, quietly enough that Lydia shouldn't hear it over the music in her head phones.

The rest of the flight is spent in silence. I'd like to blame the hangover for the nausea in my stomach, twisting me into knots and giving me tension headaches. But the truth is, sitting so close to him, our arms and legs on the precipice of touching, but never quite making contact, is maddening. There's a hum of energy, this awareness that we're desperate to close the distance and fighting it is draining like I've never experienced before.

                   Dallas, Drayton and I sit on the deck later that night, the living room roll away doors create an indoor, outdoor transition, the moonlight glistens on ripples of the sea. The white tips of waves breaking up the deep, dark almost black water. Stars touch the horizon, like specks of glitter falling onto a canvas.

I love it here, the peace, the wide wooden deck just a step up from their own private beach. It's serene.

Lydia fell asleep on the sofa earlier, watching a movie with Drayton and Nathan has been in his room for hours. I'm not sure if he's avoiding me or if he's tired like he claimed, but either way, I feel the lack of his presence more than I want to.

Dallas, who's snuggled up on the same seat as Drayton, rests on his chest and looks at me. "You seem distracted."

"Distracted from what?"

Her lips lift into a small smile. "I don't know. You just seem. . . like there's something bothering you."

"This Josh thing still bothering you?" Drayton asks, his eyes closed and head tipped back. I thought he was asleep until he spoke. Tilting his head, he peeks at me with one eye open. "I can beat the piss out of him again."

As terrible as it is, Josh has been the furthest thing from my mind, which isn't fair considering how much his disappearance impacts our little girl. The selfishness winds me, I sit up straighter and swallow hard, hoping to clear the lump in my throat.

How am I supposed to sit here for the weekend and tell Dallas I'm fine. Meanwhile, whatever is bothering me is probably to do with her brother. Her brother. I should be honest with her.

"I think I'm just tired," I mumble, draping my legs on either side of the beach chair. "Plus, I need to tell Lydia that Josh and I have split. It's going to be. . . hard."

Dallas blows out a breath and Drayton lifts his knees on either side of her frame, caging her in. "She shouldn't have to go through this," Dallas says.

"I did."

Both of them look at me, and suddenly, the hurting and confusion isn't about Nathan. I shrug, giving them a weak smile. "My dad walked out on us. I don't remember it but I still knew I had a dad out there that wanted nothing to do with me. History repeats itself, I suppose."

Drayton runs his hand up and down Dallas' arm. "If it helps, he's not invited to the wedding."

I'd thought about it, how that would go down. But I couldn't find it in me to bring it up. It seemed selfish to put him in that position. His best friend, over me. I couldn't even imagine Drayton getting married and not having Josh as his best man.

All of a sudden, he grins. "I'm going to ask Nathan to be the best man."

Dallas laughs, resting her chin on his chest. "He won't know what to do with himself."

"Please," Drayton scoffs. "Being the best man is like the gold card to getting laid at a wedding. First pick of all the babes. He'll be thrilled."

His words stir something sick in the pit of my stomach.

Dallas palms his chest and lifts herself, staring at him, her blonde waves curtain her face but I'm sure I can visualize the glare he's getting. "You know this, how?"

He smacks her ass and squeezes. "Science."

"I think I'm going to go to bed," I scoot off the seat and stretch, getting one last glimpse of the star speckled sky and the white tips of the lapping waves.

I think I might sleep with the window open tonight, let in the calming crash of the sea and hope I can find a bit of peace in the chaos.

"That's great," Drayton doesn't bother sparing me a glance. "I'm going to get balls deep under the stars. I'm romantic like that."

On second thought, the window can stay shut tonight.

Dallas gives me one of her signature worried smiles, ignoring her insatiable fiance. "You alright?"

Tomorrow. I'm telling her the truth about Nathan tomorrow. It's not fair to keep something like that from her. "I'm good," I blow her a kiss. "Sleep. . . or don't sleep well."

She blows me a kiss back.

I don't begrudge those two and their thirst for one another. Loving someone like that is special and I'm glad Dallas has someone who's so obsessed with her.

Upstairs, I wander down the wide corridor, the off white walls covered in beautiful art and portraits. Lydia's bedroom door is open, I check on her breathing, as I do most nights, tuck her in and kiss her head before I continue down to the next bedroom. When Dallas and Drayton bought this place, they bought it with enough rooms for all of their loved ones to fit.

These two have an open door policy. You just have to be okay with whatever antics go on inside the four walls of their abode.

The bathroom door swings open as I'm passing and Nathan walks out, his chest bare and his cotton shorts low on his hips. Of course he'd use the warmer weather to wear less clothes. I swallow, stepping back.

"You just heading to bed?" He asks.

"Yeah. I've been spending time with the reason we came here instead of hiding out."

His lips press into a thin line and he nods. "Can see how it would look like that."

A huff of humorless laughter blows from my nose and I go to step around him. I don't have it in me to get into these games.

I like Nathan. I've come to accept that I have feelings for him and the feelings grow stronger all the time but I have a daughter and complications in my life that don't leave a lot of room for hot and cold.

A warm hand wraps around my bicep as I go to step past him, he tugs me back and turns me to face him. "Gabrielle, I'm sorry."

I shrug out of his hold and fold my arms. "What for?"

"I—" his brow furrows in thought. "I- don't know for sure. But I'm sorry."

I'm not sure what he's supposed to say sorry for either if I'm honest. I'm not even sure what he's done to upset me. The flirting wasn't a problem until this afternoon, until he kissed me again and it made me plummet into a one way trip to feelings town.

Shaking off the sensation that his penetrative stare gives me, I look at the carpet. "It doesn't matter, Nathan. It's just me being dramatic."

Fingers caress my chin and tip my face up toward him. "Don't do that," his voice is soft. "You're not dramatic for feeling whatever you feel. Just. . . explain it to me."

"I can't keep having this conversation, Nathan. You know how I feel. You know what it does to me. You told me where you stand, we both know where I stand. So we're just stuck in this awkward in between."

His jaw flutters, his eyes darting up and down over my face, lingering on my mouth.

"You're a flirt, Nathan. I know. But don't kiss me again unless you plan on committing to me."

His throat rolls on a hard swallow. "You want that? Commitment?"

My vision starts to blur because I have no fucking idea.

What I want and what I should do don't seem to align at all and it hurts. "I just want to be loved without begging for it."

Spinning around, I go to my bedroom, closing the door before the first tear slips down my cheek. A few hundred more fall before I get to sleep.