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Girl Abroad: Part 4 – Chapter 30

“YOU KNOW, THERE’S A FINE LINE BETWEEN PERSISTENCE AND desperation,” I tell Nate, who sits on the corner of my desk.

I keep a safe distance by leaning against my bedroom door. Just in case I decide this whole conversation is a bad idea and need to make a quick getaway.

Still, no amount of distance can stop me from noticing how stupidly good he looks. And he doesn’t even try that hard. Showing up in a dark hooded sweatshirt and ripped jeans, his hair tousled from the ride here on his motorcycle. Slight shadow of stubble along his jaw. It’s like the less men care, the sexier they look.

He nods wryly. “I’ll be mindful of that.”

“I meant what I said. We don’t have anything to talk about. Nothing’s changed.”

“I broke up with Yvonne.”

I meet his eyes, startled. “Okay, well, that’s new.”

A hint of a smile curves his lips.

“Why?” I ask, trying to play it cool.

“I wasn’t in love with her.”

“I’m not in love with crepes, but I’ve eaten more of them in the last week than I have in my entire life.”

“I’m sorry?”

I have no idea why I said that. “Why now? I mean, you waited this long. What changed your mind?”

“You did.”

And just like that, my heartbeat is dangerously out of control.

Nate runs a hand through his hair. “Couldn’t keep seeing her while I was thinking about you. I was waiting for that feeling to go away. It didn’t.”

“Did you tell her why?”

Anxiety tickles my stomach. Yvonne and I are barely acquaintances, but she is Celeste’s friend, and that complicates things.

“You mean did your name come up? No. I don’t need to give her someone to blame. It isn’t about that.”

I take a breath. “Then maybe you can tell me what it is about. Because I’m having a hard time understanding.”

He smiles faintly. “Why do I fancy you, you mean?”

“Yes. Feel free to be specific.”

“You’re making this rather difficult.”

“Good. You kind of deserve it.”

He does this smirking head tilt that I hate and adore in equal measure because I want to know what’s happening inside his head when he does it. Desperately.

Nate goes quiet as he considers my request, eyeing me with that penetrating gaze that’s excited and unnerved me since the night we first met. I half expect him to wriggle his way free of the topic. But then he surprises me.

“Because you’re funny in a completely unpretentious way. You aren’t impressed with yourself at all.”

My teeth grab at the inside of my cheek to hide a shy smile. “That’s a good start.”

He begins a circuitous approach toward me. First stopping at my dresser to appraise the debris from my pockets and other knickknacks. Then my nightstand, with my headphones and books. He inspects the contents of the document box spread on the floor.

“You’re curious,” he continues.

“As in strange?”

“As in inquisitive. I despise the uninterested.”

The statement just further adds to my mystification that he and Yvonne ever found themselves in a conversation long enough to learn each other’s names. The sex must have been amazing.

“What?” Nate asks roughly. “What are you thinking about?”

“Sex.”

“Oh.” He closes in on me.

“Academically.” I dodge him, crossing the room to the small window bench.

“Of course.”

Tired of stalking me around the room, he sits at the foot of my bed.

“Don’t take that to mean I’m not interested in hearing more compliments.”

He’s a good sport, laughing huskily. “To be honest, I thought you were fit the first night we met.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

My nerves go a bit haywire, losing their composure. It’s like that startled feeling when you’re about to fall but both feet haven’t left the ground yet. On my window bench, I pull my knees up to my chest because if I don’t hang on to my legs, they’re going to carry me over to that bed, and then I can’t be held responsible for my actions.

Nate scrutinizes me with a narrowed gaze. “It’s okay to feel this.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means…” He stands and strides toward me. Takes a seat beside me. “You’d rather make jokes than be present.”

I swallow hard, my head a bit foggy with the slightest scent of motor oil that follows him. It’s the dumbest thing but I can’t get enough of it.

“Because I don’t know how we do this,” I confess.

I also don’t have a filter where it comes to Nate. Not now anyway. He’s overwhelming. My entire body is scrambling to cope with the effects of him, both excited and terrified of where we go from here.

“Are you afraid of me?”

Yes, I almost say out loud. I’m afraid of letting myself fall for him. Of making a terrible mistake. I’m afraid of the untethered, unknowable next.

I bite my lip and say, “No. Well, maybe a little.”

“Should I go?”

I shake my head. If he leaves now, I’ll lose my nerve. And then spend the rest of my life wondering what would have happened if I’d worked up the courage to not overthink it. To take a leap and find out what’s on the other side.

“You haven’t said if I’m making an ass of myself here.” Nate inspects the ink stains on my fingers from rummaging through the box of papers. He softly drags his fingertips across mine. “You’ve got me at a disadvantage.”

I’m not sure that’s true.

“Not a total ass, no,” I answer, smiling.

The simmering anticipation is too much to tolerate sitting still. I get to my feet only to have Nate catch my hand. When I spin around, he captures my hips and presses me to the wall.

“Last time we were here…” he says.

“Things were a little different.”

The heat in his eyes is unmistakable. So is the hard ridge straining against his zipper.

“I want you,” he says roughly. “But it’s your decision.”

There’ll be consequences, I know this. The only uncertainty is the magnitude of the fallout.

But right now, I can’t bring myself to care.

Instead, I run my finger through the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck as I pull him toward me to place my lips against his.

When we kiss, something inside me snaps open. A sort of delirious haste to grab for as much as I can get. Nate’s thumbs push under my shirt to touch bare skin, and I forget everything but wanting to feel more of him. I strain into his hands, begging him to feel his way across my body. I’m not interested in a slow burn. I want to chase the high. Burn it down to the quick.

Nate breaks away just long enough to peel off his sweatshirt and toss it to the floor. I get one fleeting glimpse of his smooth muscular chest, and then his mouth is on mine again as he hikes my thigh up around his hip. He’s hard between my legs. A jolt of heat sizzles through me. My hands travel the planes of his shoulders, down his back, over every ridge of lean muscle. Memorizing him.

I want him. More than I thought I could when I imagined what having him would feel like. The hunger catches me off guard, this ravaging, insatiable need to consume every exhilarating ounce of pleasure from him. When his mouth explores my neck, I’m already impatient for his lips to travel lower. A noise escapes me, urging him to satisfy the desire burrowing through me. I reach down and yank my shirt off.

Nate lifts his head. He bites his lip at the sight of me, then reaches back to unhook my bra.

I’m uneasy for a moment at being exposed, struck with that ingrained hesitation of being naked in front of someone for the first time. I try not to think about my right boob and that jerk in high school who informed me it was bigger than the left one, but the insecurity is there.

Until Nate licks his lips with lust in his heavy-lidded eyes and mumbles, “Fuck, Abbey. You’re beautiful.”

My self-consciousness fades with each admiring look, each whispered compliment. My fears are displaced by the heat of his palms cupping my breasts, the sensation of his thumbs brushing over my nipples.

My eyelids flutter closed, and my head falls back against the wall while he tastes one beaded nipple. Then the other.

His tongue does me in. Lights my nerves on fire. I’m hardly aware of anything else until his hand slips into my jeans to feel how wet I am. A sound that comes from deep in his chest ripples through my body as his fingers caress me, making me unsteady on my feet.

“You’re shaking,” he whispers, traveling back up my neck with those dangerous lips.

“I don’t think I can stand up if you keep doing that.”

“Good.”

He pulls his hand free to unbutton my jeans and tug them down my legs. Then he walks me back toward my bed and lays me down as he covers me with his body.

He dips his hand into my underwear and kisses me, sliding his tongue against mine while his finger presses inside me. My hips arch off the bed and I push against his hand, seeking more.

“What do you need to come?” he asks against my lips.

Rather than answer aloud, I tangle my hands in his hair and bring his head back to my breasts. He takes the hint and returns his attention to licking my nipple, tugging on it with his teeth while two fingers slide inside me. I don’t want it to end. This taut, tangled anticipation. I’m half-mad and losing control, and soon my muscles clench around him and my breath catches.

I writhe beneath him as I find my release, eyelids shut tight against the waves of pulsing warmth. He kisses me deeply before I feel his jeans slip down to our feet and I open my eyes to watch him stroke himself before putting on a condom.

Nate drags his hungry gaze down my naked body. “Nice,” he rasps.

“It isn’t polite to stare.”

He chuckles. “I’m not that polite.”

As if I’d argue the point, he pushes my legs apart to sit forward and drag his erection over my wet core. I bite down hard on my lower lip, absolutely besieged by lust. He teases me, enjoying it while I wait in searing anticipation. When I’m close to chewing through my lip, he finally relents and presses forward to fill me. The sensation is a mixture of relief and a new insistent ache. He goes slow at first. Gentle. Letting me adjust to him. Then deeper, thrusting with greater intent.

I whimper.

“Good?” he murmurs, locks of hair falling onto his forehead.

“So good.”

At that he throws one of my legs over his hip, withdraws slowly, then drives forward again. We kiss as I take more of him in this position. It’s almost too much, my muscles contracting around him. Grabbing his back and dragging my fingertips down his warm, damp skin is all I can do to anchor myself as he thrusts.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he says before kissing me again. Deep and greedy.

I spent more time than I’d like to admit imagining what sex with Nate would be like. A night like this when he would show up at my door in the middle of the night. I pictured him as slow and reserved. In all our time together, he’s been guarded, always so careful not to give too much away.

Tonight, I feel like I’m meeting him again for the first time. The person he conceals inside has broken free. This Nate is passionate and in control, hungry for me and not afraid to say it.

His frantic heartbeat thumps against my chest as he moves inside me. His soft groans tickle my skin. Every inch of me is hypersensitive to the slightest touch. His lips across my collarbone. His tongue on my breasts. His fingers biting into the back of my thigh as he lifts my leg to open me further.

“I’m close,” Nate mumbles into my neck. It’s more a question than a statement.

Knowing I’m the one who brought him to the edge sends a thrill shooting through me. It’s a powerful feeling, having a man at your mercy.

I glide my hands down his back to squeeze his butt. “What do you need to come?”

I echo his earlier words with a breathy sigh and a half smirk, eliciting another groan from him.

“Just you,” he says, and then he sits back on his heels, spreading me in front of him.

It’s intense and erotic the way he watches me take his dick. He pushes hair off his forehead as his thrusts become quick and deliberate, as his gaze becomes hazy and a hoarse noise passes his lips.

“Kiss me while you come,” I whisper, my fingernails digging into his thigh as he fucks me harder.

With a groan of approval, he bends over to capture my mouth just as a shudder overtakes his body. He reaches his orgasm, pressed deep inside me. After a few deep exhales, he brushes one last kiss over my mouth and collapses beside me.

We lie there after he’s disposed of the condom, still catching our breath. Eyes closed, I try to catalog every sensation and keep them present in my memory. Nate pulls me to rest my head on his chest while he idly drags his fingers through my tousled hair.

“Are you all right?”

His gruff voice jolts me from my thoughts. “Of course,” I assure him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You got quiet on me. Pensive.” He laughs, a bit uneasy. “Usually that means a woman is second-guessing herself and trying to figure out how to have the talk.”

“The talk?”

What are we, what is this, that sort of thing.”

“Oh. Don’t worry. I wasn’t going to cross-examine you.”

“Excellent. Because I don’t think I can answer what this is yet. My head’s barely wrapped around the fact that I’m in your bed right now. Let’s see where it goes, yeah? Save the talk for another day.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Wow, you were really worried I was going to grill you, huh? It’s fine. I don’t expect any of that right now.”

“Are you sure?” There’s a lingering note of concern.

I rise on my elbow to grin at him. “Here, let me make it easy for you, Nate. We’re not exclusive, we’re not in a relationship, et cetera et cetera.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t sleep around,” he tells me, and I believe him. “I barely have time to eat supper most days.”

Which is why he liked being with Yvonne, I realize, but I don’t say it out loud. I think it’s true, though. Yvonne is independent, busy with school. She was happy to let him come and go as he pleased. Hell, she didn’t even expect a single romantic gesture from him.

I’m not sure how long I’d be okay with an arrangement like that, but for now, Nate is right. I have no intention to rush anything, especially when my mind is still foggy from all the kisses I’ve shared with Jack. I think about my infuriating roommate almost as often as I think about Nate. Which is a total mindfuck.

“It’s all good,” I reassure him. “I’m not making any wedding scrapbooks yet. Let’s check in, say, in a few weeks and see where we are then. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

I lift an eyebrow. “But that means you can’t turn into a jealous maniac when I’m dating up a storm, going through men like mints. Nonexclusive Abbey is dangerous.”

“Uh-huh, I bet she is.”

I snuggle close to him again, breathing in the faint scent of spice and exhaust.

“What do you think you’ll do when your next term at uni ends?” he asks. “Go back to America?”

“I guess so. That’s the plan anyway. My program is only for the year.”

“Could you apply to stay?”

“Doubt it. It’s a competitive program.”

“Somewhere else abroad then?”

“I hadn’t thought about it.” I’ve been so preoccupied with Josephine and keeping up in my classes, I haven’t looked much beyond this semester.

“Travel suits you, I reckon,” he teases. “I have a hard time picturing you sitting still in Tennessee.”

“It has its charms. You’d like Nashville. Ton of places to catch live music.”

He lets out a breath. “I can’t wait to get out of London for a while. If I spend too much time in this city, it starts to do my head in.”

“If you had your way, nothing holding you back, where would you go?” I draw patterns across his chest and trace the lines of his abdomen.

“Everywhere.”

I smile against his shoulder. “That’s a lot of places.”

“When I was a teenager, I thought it was just my shit home life, right, that made me so determined to get out. I came to the city thinking I was escaping, but then I got here and that feeling didn’t go away.”

“What is it, you think? Something more than wanderlust and curiosity?”

Nate thinks it over for a beat. “Fear, if I’m honest. I’ve always had this terror that I’ll run out of time to see it all. That I’m wasting my life. Like I’m being chased.”

“I get that,” I admit. “It’s hard not to look at my dad and think, well, shit, I’m the same age he was when he was first touring the world to sellout crowds. Shaking hands with the prime minister of Japan or whatever. He once went to a rave with Eminem after some awards show and woke up in a whole other state. I wouldn’t know where to even begin on finding a rave, let alone attending one. I’m over here spending all night on the floor digging through property deeds and family letters.”

“Oh, is that what that is?” Chuckling, he gestures to the paper piles strewn on the floor.

“Yeah. Ben sent over some old documents he found.” A laugh pops up. “And I’m embarrassed to admit opening that box was almost as big of a turn-on as what we just did.”

He snickers. “I don’t know if I should feel offended.”

“I said almost,” I protest. “Seriously, though. I was beyond excited to go through these documents.”

“Discovery is its own reward.” He flashes a crooked grin when I look up at him with a raised eyebrow. “I might have read that under a juice cap once.”

“I enjoy the research. It’s exciting, in a way. But it isn’t playing a concert on a glacier in Norway or trekking a volcano in Iceland.”

“Can’t you do both?”

“I’m not sure Indiana Jones is a real job people pay you for.”

“Then what do you want to be when you grow up?”

I hesitate. I always dread this question because it seems so final once you vocalize an answer. You speak it, and it’s like signing a contract in blood. A path is set, and it gets harder to deviate from it.

“I’ve toyed with the idea of getting my PhD. Teaching at a university maybe. But then I worry I’m giving up any chance at adventure if I burrow down in a stuffy basement office with my books. I’m still young, right? There’s still time to become an astronaut. Or James Cameron.”

“Can’t you do both?” he challenges again.

“James Cameron in space? He’s probably already bought the rights.”

Nate laughs. “Adventure. Whatever that looks like to you. All I’m saying is I’d be on the road right now if I had the cash. Seems like you’ve got more than enough to take off anywhere you’d want to go.”

“Try telling that to my dad. He still gets anxious when I ride in cars with people he doesn’t know. Letting me move to London was a months-long argument, so I’m not sure telling him I want to spend three months backpacking across South America would go over well. Could put him in an early grave.”

“Take some advice,” Nate says, sweeping a few strands of hair off my face. “Don’t spend what little time we have making everyone else happy at your own expense. You’re the only one who will live with your regrets.”

“Can I ask about your family?” I hedge.

He tilts his head down, questioning.

“The last time you mentioned them, you didn’t want to talk about it. On the beach in Rye.”

“There isn’t much to say. I’m not unique by any means.” Nate laces his fingers through mine, rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand. He lets out a long exhale. “Dad liked to knock me around. Just a mean old bastard who told himself he was making me tougher.”

My heart clenches for him.

“Mum kept her head down and preferred to not get involved. Till one day he took a swing and I swung back. We don’t talk anymore, me and him. She’s always on me about not visiting, but most of the time, I’d rather swallow glass.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He kisses my hair, pulling me tighter to drape my leg over his hip. “I don’t pity myself. You shouldn’t either. We’ve all got shit. Mine’s not special.”

I’ve never had this before—lying in bed with a man, talking about the real stuff. Our plans and baggage. This is what adult relationships look like, I guess. When you stop worrying about getting caught sneaking a boy in after curfew and instead muse about your lost childhoods. Sad as it sounds, it feels like growing up.

“Bollocks. I didn’t mean to wreck the mood,” he says. “I’m not being great company.”

“Nah. I like your company.”

I absently trail my fingertips down his shoulders, across his chest. When I reach his abdomen, he sucks in a jagged breath while gripping my ass. Just that small sensation reignites the warmth that pulses through my core and twists my stomach.

“Actually, I take it back. You’re terrible company,” I say in an impish tone. “I require cheering up. ASAP.”

“I might have a few ideas about that.”

Suddenly, he pulls me on top of him to straddle his hips. I feel him grow hard beneath me. The thrill of what I can do to him, how his body responds to mine, is a potent hit of adrenaline to my system.

And I’m dangerously close to developing a taste for it.


In the morning, I expect to wake alone to a text or note on my nightstand. Instead, I find Nate sprawled out across one side of my bed, his naked body a whole meal.

As much as I’d love to go there, I need to get him out of here before the whole house wakes up and this becomes a discussion. Frankly, I’m happy to put that off as long as possible.

He rouses as I peel myself out from under the covers.

“Morning,” he mumbles, squinting against the sun and rubbing his eyes. It’s hot and adorable at the same time, and it takes all my willpower not to jump on his dick.

“Morning. Not to be rude, but if you don’t want an interrogation on your way out, you better hop to.”

He flashes me a sly grin. “Are you kicking me out of bed?”

“You’re cute, but yes.”

On a groggy exhale, he climbs off the mattress to gather his clothes.

“To be clear, we’re on speaking terms again,” he says as he gets dressed, eyeing me over his shoulder. “Yes?”

“Definitely yes.” I push him toward the door with a hurried kiss. “I’ll text you later.”

Looking endearingly dejected, he pulls on his shoes while I peek my head into the hallway to make sure the coast is clear. I don’t hear anyone moving around, so I wave him on to make a dash for the stairs.

But just as he reaches the end of the hall, a creak breaks the silence. A door opens and Nate comes face-to-face with Jack.

They stop, both startled to encounter the other. Jack looks at him with confusion for a moment before his eyes slide past Nate to find me standing in my doorway. I watch as his expression morphs to understanding. His shoulders fall.

“All right, mate?” Jack says with a nod to Nate.

“All right, yeah.”

Jack doesn’t meet my eyes again as he goes into his bathroom and shuts the door. Nate shoots an uncertain glance back at me before he takes the stairs.

Fucking brilliant.

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