103. Nate

ONE HUNDRED THREE

NATE

"Here she is now." I hold my arm out, gesturing to Rosie's arrival as I hear her crutches approach. But then I turn, and my mouth goes dry.

Because Rosie is wearing one of my work shirts.

And she looks like a fucking advertisement for late-night sex and bad ideas.

"Hello," she says quietly. Shyly. And it's like a dinner bell for my genitals.

I clear my throat. "Hannah, Maddox, you remember Rosie."

"She's Nate's girlfriend," Chelsea calls out.

"That she is, Smidge." I close the distance to Rosie so I can place a hand possessively on her back. "Rosie, you know Hannah and Maddox."

Her muscles relax under my palm, and a sense of pride fills my chest.

I did that.

I made her feel comfortable.

"Sit, sit." Ruth, ever the mother, directs everyone to the table after the round of hello s is finished.

Rosie takes the closest chair, and I help her scoot in .

The office chair was useful, but I left it in the bedroom, assuming she wouldn't want to use it for dinner.

Plates are passed out, and Maddox uses the serving utensils to start dishing out food.

Chelsea chatters away about all the food they made today, telling Hannah every detail of every dish.

Maddox lifts a brow at me, and I just shrug. The girl has an excellent memory.

Happy to listen, I shove spanakopita into my mouth.

"I've been meaning to ask all day." Ruth turns to Rosie. "How did you two meet?"

Rosie glances at me, but my mouth is too full to reply.

She sets her fork down, and I wonder if she's going to tell them the whole truth or say we met at the party.

"We, um, actually go way back," she tells Ruth.

My heart gives a little squeeze.

I don't know why I thought she might not want to admit that, but a part of me did.

"Really?" Maddox drags out the word, but I refuse to look at him.

I gave him so much shit over not telling me about Hannah when she reappeared in his life that I know I have a good reaming coming.

But instead of facing the music, I just fill my mouth with more spanakopita.

"You two dated before?" Hannah asks.

Rosie shakes her head. "No, nothing like that. We were friends when we were kids."

"Really?" Maddox repeats, slightly louder this time.

Rosie glances at him, probably thinking that he struggles with the English language. Which isn't entirely incorrect.

Rosie turns her attention to Maddox. "Nathan lived at the other end of the street from me."

"In Ohio?" Maddox asks. I keep avoiding his gaze.

"Wisconsin," Rosie corrects.

"Wisconsin?" Maddox sounds like he's thinking really hard , and I have to stop myself from sighing .

"I didn't know you lived in Wisconsin," Hannah says, sounding like she can't believe it.

"It was a long time ago," Rosie reasons, her cheeks turning pink. "Nathan, Nate, moved away to Ohio when he was twelve." She looks over at Maddox. "I was his best friend first."

My smile is so sudden and so wide that a piece of food falls out of my mouth.

"Gross." Chelsea scrunches her face at me.

I open my mouth wider, showing her the rest of the mashed-up food on my tongue.

Chelsea looks at Rosie. "Was he like this as a kid too?"

Rosie nods. "Worse, even."

Maddox leans forward. "Okay, best friend , why haven't I heard of you?"

Rosie's expression falters, and I've never wanted to punch Maddox more in my life.

"We lost touch," I say before Rosie has to answer. "You know how it is." I hold his gaze as I say it. Maddox should know better than anyone how that feels, and my tone should tell him not to push it.

He lifts a brow but doesn't pry.

"So when you saw each other at our reception…" Hannah prompts.

Rosie's cheeks get even pinker. "That was the first time… in a long time."

Maddox stares at me. "Interesting."

"Very." I nod slowly. "Now, can someone pass me the rice?"

"Tell Rosie I'll text her in the morning," Ruth whispers to me with a wave.

"Will do," I whisper back. "Thanks again for all the help."

Ruth shakes her head, then starts toward the door where Chelsea and Hannah are putting on their shoes.

Rosie will no doubt feel bad about not saying goodbye, but after hearing the story of the car accident, no one would let me wake her .

I look down at the woman tucked beside me.

She's in her usual spot at the end of the couch, only with her back against the armrest, her side against the back of the couch, and her legs up over my lap.

After dinner, we all made our way over to the living room, and after we were forced to tell a handful of childhood stories from the woods, Rosie nodded off.

That's when I told them how she got hurt. Including the part where Rosie pushed her coworker out of the way, sacrificing herself.

Maddox was watching me the whole time like he knew I was leaving something out. But I wasn't about to talk about the letters in front of his whole family.

I love them. I know I can trust them. But that's not my decision to make alone.

If I have my way, Rosie will become close with them too, but I want to let her control how much she shares.

A hand smacks the back of my head, making me hunch my shoulders.

"Fucker," I hiss at Maddox over my shoulder.

He points at me. "You've got some 'splaining to do." He keeps his voice low so as not to wake Rosie. And as much as I want to backhand him in the nuts, I appreciate the consideration.

"Later." It's a promise and a warning.

Maddox dips his chin, then follows his women out the door.

I feel a little bad that Tony knows more than he does since he was there when I found those letters—and saw me weeping like a baby.

But that's the thing about Tony. He knows something fucked up happened. Offered to—I'm pretty sure—kill a guy. Then took my answer at face value. And hasn't asked a follow-up question since.

Maddox, however, would be nothing but questions. And right now, I just want to enjoy my time with my girl.

Because I have about two weeks to convince her to stay and never leave.