Chapter 32Nash
Chapter 32
Nash
G oldie's still got her hand on my arm, and even though we've stopped kissing, I'm still buzzing from it. Hell, my heart's pounding like I've just run up the mountain from the foot to the peak and back.
This is supposed to be fun—just fun. Friendship and sex. No strings, no worries, no feelings. And yet, here I am, standing in the middle of the front bedroom with the taste of her sweet mouth still lingering on mine, feeling…something. Something more than I should be. And we haven't even gotten to the sex part yet.
I am up shit creek with nary a paddle in sight , I think, as I realize I felt that kiss just as much in my heart as I did in my cock.
I watch her as she tries to steady herself, the fingers of her other hand still gripping Buck's arm too. She's holding on tight to both of us as if she just can't find her footing. I want to pick her right back up and hold her, secure and stable in my arms.
The heat between us hasn't cooled. But it's not just desire—it's something deeper, more dangerous, and I can't shake it.
Buck catches my eye, flashing me one of those big, dopey grins of his like he knows what's going through my mind. He doesn't. He can't. Because if he did, he'd know I'm teetering on the edge, caught between sticking to Goldie's wishes and…falling, falling, falling, smashing her damn no-feelings rule to bits when I land. My head knows she's only here for a couple of weeks, but I don't think my heart has processed that harsh, cold truth.
"You okay, Nash?" Buck asks, that grin still plastered on his face. Goldie may've just gone and put it there permanently.
I give him a sideways look, hoping he can't see through me. He can't. "Just appreciating one fine kiss, that's all."
I let out a breath, trying to shake loose this knot in my chest. Keep it light, Nash. This is how it's supposed to be. I promised myself I wouldn't feel these kinds of feelings. Not for Goldie. Not for anyone. Love ain't for me. Period. Never has been, never will be. Not with the girls from the village, and definitely not with someone like Goldie Locke.
Still, there's something about the way she kissed me back, the way she looked at me with those big, bright eyes—like maybe she felt it too. Like maybe she wants more than just this temporary arrangement of sex and friendship.
I'm staring at her, caught up in my own head, when she looks back over her shoulder and gives me a quick smile before turning to Buck. My chest tightens. Yeah, that right there—that's what's got me all tied up. I can't stand how much I want her. Not just in bed, either.
It's just fun, man , I tell myself. Just have fun. Just enjoy it.
But that kiss didn't feel like fun. It felt…like everything I've been trying to avoid.
I mean, look at Buck. The guy's head over heels already, and I'd bet every last fish in the river that the others are on their way there too. And now, here I am, realizing I might be next in line.
Hell, Nash, you're better than this. You don't fall for women. I remind myself of that like a mantra. Keep it light, keep it simple, keep it fun. That's the whole point of the arrangement. No heartbreak, no drama.
But standing here now, watching her smile at Buck and feeling my pulse quicken at the thought of her smiling like that at me, I can't shake the nagging thought that I might already be in too deep to haul myself out of this hole my heart's digging.
"You're somethin', ain't you?" Buck says, his voice breaking through my thoughts. "You are somethin' else, Goldie. You're starin', Nash. What's got you so quiet?"
I blink, forcing a laugh. "Just thinkin' about how much cleanup we've still got to do. Don't want Luke to come back and find us all distracted. He gave me and Lynx pure hell when he caught us kissin' instead of fishin'."
I try to grin, but it feels tight.
The easy thing to do would be to push it down. Bury it. Stick to the plan—enjoy her, keep it casual, let things run their course. But my gut tells me it won't be that simple. That kiss? It wasn't just a kiss. It was a crack in the damn walls I'd built around myself.
I clench my fists, trying to hold on to the easy, carefree Nash I've always been. But deep down, I know the truth. I know I'm not just playing here. This isn't just fun and games, sex and friendship.
I'm falling for this girl. It's only been a couple of days. How's it gonna feel in two weeks?
Buck's voice cuts through my thoughts. "You sure you're good, Nash?" he asks again.
I blink, realizing I've been staring at her too long, barely hearing as she contemplates out loud what to do with all our books.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good." I flash him a grin, but even I can feel it's half-hearted.
"You sure?" Buck gives me that knowing look again. Damn it, he sees right through me. I've never been good at hiding shit from him. "You don't look good. You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I said I'm good." My voice comes out more clipped than I mean for it to, so I quickly add, "We just better get back to work, is all."
But inside, I'm screaming. How the hell am I supposed to navigate this without falling even harder? How is it not going to be unbearable when she leaves?
I think of this morning, when she ran out, and how it awful it felt. How much worse is it gonna be in two weeks?
Should we have just let her go?
"I'm ready to help," I say, turning to Goldie and giving her a smile that I hope hides the chaos in my head. "Just tell me where you need me, darlin'."
She looks up at me with those big blue eyes and says, sassy as all hell, "Well, if you want to know the truth, I want you between my thighs with your cock buried to the hilt inside me. But—" She sighs. "Work now, play later."
Dead. I'm dead. Dead, dead, dead. My heart is mush, my cock is a rock, and I am dead.
After glancing around, she wiggles her brows and says, "I think I may have an idea. Let's go, boys."
Then she strides through to the second bedroom.
"Yes, ma'am," I say and she levels me with a backward glance, one brow cocked as if to say Excuse me ? I force a grin. "Sorry. Yes, Goldie."
When Buck and I trail in behind her, she's already inspecting the room.
"Yes, yes, yes. This is going to work. I don't know how long it'll take and I don't know if it's even within your skill set or if you have the supplies or the tools, but I have an idea for what to do with a lot of the books."
"Yeah? Let's hear it, darlin'," I say, trying to sound cool and laid-back, even though I'm anything but. My gut's still twisted, my heart racing like a runaway train, but I've got to keep it together.
What the actual fuck is wrong with me?
Goldie turns to us with flames of delighted fire dancing in her eyes. She claps her hands together excitedly. "Custom-made drawers. Under all the beds. You guys can build stuff, right? The beds are so big, we could put three drawers on each side and probably a couple on the ends, on the singles, and at least three or four under each set of bunks. I have no idea about the logistics of putting the framework together so they'll slide in and out for easy access, but maybe one of you, or one of the others—"
Buck interrupts her, his face as lit up as hers. "Hell yeah, we can do that! Ain't nothin' to it. We've got plenty of wood in the shed and we should have the hardware too, but anything we don't have, we can get next time we go into town. What do you think, Nash?"
I nod, leaning against the doorframe and crossing my arms. "Sounds like a solid plan."
I'm actually thinking it's one of the most brilliant, innovative things I've ever heard, but to be honest, she could say the sky is blue and I'd also think that's one of the most brilliant, innovative things I've ever heard.
Goldie tilts her head, her eyes narrowing just a bit. "You sure? You sound…weird."
"Well, flattery will get you everywhere, ma'am. Shit dammit. I meant Goldie. Not ma'am. Slip of the tongue."
She beams at me. "Don't sweat it, big guy. I happen to like your slips of the tongue."
As she walks past me, she rubs my belly like it's a lamp with a genie inside.
Dead, dead, dead.
She points at the two stacks of boxes against the far wall. "What's in those?"
I freeze for a second. My gaze flicks to the boxes, to Buck, who has gone stock-still too, then back to Goldie.
"More books, mostly," I say, my voice sounding tight even to my own ears. I shift on my feet, rubbing the back of my neck. "Nothing too exciting."
She narrows her eyes again, like she's sensing something's off. "Let's move those to the living room and sort them with the others, then."
"Do we really need to put more stuff in the living room?" I hedge. "It's gonna be suppertime and—"
"We'll just have to be fast," she says. "Worse comes to worse, we'll have to take some blankets outside and make supper a picnic."
I love that idea, but right now, the most important thing is distracting her from these boxes, or rather, what's behind them.
"Ash says it's gonna rain, so I don't think—"
She looks at me and cocks that head, her hand on her hip. "Ash was wrong about the snow and he's gonna be wrong about the rain. Boxes, please."
Goldie points to the boxes, then toward the living room, and that look in her eyes is so determined I know there's no point in arguing.
I move quickly, grabbing the nearest box and hefting it into my arms, just to keep my hands busy. Buck's already got one too.
As we clear the boxes, something I haven't laid eyes on in a long time is revealed—a door. Just a regular ol' door, but to me, it's like it's got a spotlight shining down on it. We put the boxes in front of it for a reason. None of us had spoken it out loud, but we did.
Goldie notices it right away, of course. "What's that?"
I can't help the tightening in my chest as she steps closer to the door. "Uh, it's nothin', really. Just a closet. Empty. Nothing to go through in there."
"Actually—" Buck begins, and I cringe with my whole body, realizing the stupid-ass mistake I just made. In my haste to keep her from feeling the need to go into the "closet," I gave her the reason to do just the opposite.
"An empty closet?" Goldie's brows shoot up, her excitement palpable. "Well, if it's an empty closet, why the hell aren't we using it for your clothes? This cabin's drowning in clutter, and you guys have a whole closet just sitting there? Let's get some stuff hung up."
I can feel Buck's gaze on me, but I can't meet his eyes. Instead, I keep my focus on the box in my hands, setting it down with maybe a little more force than necessary.
Goldie's already reaching for the door handle. "Let's see what we're working with here."
Panic flares in my chest. "No!" I shout out before I can stop myself, my voice booming louder than I intended. Goldie looks at me, confused, hurt, maybe a little frightened by my outburst.
I clear my throat, trying to pull it together. "I mean…it's, uh, it's a mess in there. Nothin' worth seein', trust me. We've got better things to focus on right now. Like gettin' all those books in the boxes sorted."
"Yeah," Buck says. "And we need to start making plans for the drawers."
Goldie's not buying it. Her eyes narrow as she looks between me and the door. "What aren't you two telling me?"
I swallow hard, feeling the weight of her gaze on me. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Luke is going to lose his shit. No one's going to be that happy about it, but Luke is going to lose his shit.
"It's just…nothin' special, okay? Just some old junk we don't need anymore." I try to shrug it off, but I know she's not convinced.
I watch as Goldie's eyes flick between me and the door, her brows furrowing in that way that makes her look even more determined. Damn it, I can see the wheels turning in her head, and I know there's no stopping her now.
"If it's just junk," she says slowly, crossing her arms over her chest, "then why did you say it's empty? Because you don't want to bother clearing it out? Because we should. Make room for the stuff you do need. Like, I don't know…more bookshelves?"
Before I can stop her, she marches over to the door and grabs the handle. I tense, my heart kicking up a notch. Buck's standing beside me, watching with wide eyes.
The door creaks open, and Goldie freezes, staring into the space beyond. She steps backward, her fingers gripping the edge of the doorframe, and peers back at us with a look of pure confusion.
"Wait…this isn't a closet," she says, her voice almost a whisper.
She takes a step into the room, and Buck and I follow her, the silence hanging heavy between us. The space is dimly lit, the air stale like it hasn't been touched in years.
It's not a closet at all. It's another bedroom.
The bed's still made, covered in an old quilt. A nightstand sits next to it, cluttered with odds and ends—an old clock that no longer ticks, a lamp that hasn't been turned on in ages. Shelves line the walls, but instead of books, they're filled with trinkets and old photographs. It's like walking into a time capsule.
Goldie's confusion deepens as she steps further inside, glancing around the room. "What…what is this?" she asks, her voice soft, almost like she's afraid of disturbing whatever memories linger here, of waking slumbering ghosts.
Buck glances at me, then back at Goldie.
"It's…just another room," he mutters, but that couldn't be further from the truth.
Goldie turns to look at us, her eyes imploring, regretful. She doesn't ask whose room it was, because she's probably already figured it out.
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it impossible to speak for a second. Buck and I exchange a look, and I know he's waiting for me to say something.
"This was Ma and Pa's room," I finally say, my voice quiet.