Page 67 of Hell or High Water
He might’ve argued with that, but it was easier to just nod, and say, “You too, okay?”
He went to slide in, but at the last moment Ramsey caught his hand and Nate turned back.
“You—” Ramsey murmured and then shook his head fiercely, like he was trying to clear it. But whatever the point of it, it must not have worked, because he was leaning in and brushing a brief kiss against Nate’s cheek.
Nate froze, but Ramsey was already letting go, and the driver was meeting his eyes in the rearview, asking to confirm the address.
Then the door was closing behind him, and Ramsey was gone.
He nearly craned his head, to see if he could catch just the figure of him, but he held himself back at the last moment. It wasn’t going to provide him any additional clarity on what the fuck had just happened.
When he got home, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, opening it to his text convo with Ramsey. But he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to ask,why did you do that? Nobody was watching.
But if he asked the question, he might get an answer, and not knowing felt like it might be more preferable to hearing something he didn’twantto hear.
Maybe it hadn’t even been anything. Maybe Ramsey kissed his friends on the cheek all the time. Maybe that was the typical way he said goodbye to Wes, and when he kissed Nate, it didn’t mean anything.
He should just ignore it. Pretend it didn’t happen. But the feeling of it was still spooling through him, the imprint of Ramsey’s lips against his skin.
For one more moment, Nate let himself feel it, and then he pushed it aside. They’d had a good night, despite all his frustrations with Jordan, and he wanted to focus on that. Not on what hehadn’tgotten.
This was good, and this was enough, and maybe sometime, in the distant future, Ramsey would be a friend. Probably not aclose friend, because it was clear his future was playing hockey, even if he wasn’t doing that right now.
His brain reassembled into the correct order, he sent a text.Back home. Don’t forget to do the same.
Ramsey sent a little saluting emoji and then added,you’re not a bad casual date, Nathaniel.
And if that jumbled Nate’s orderly brain into a different, much more uncooperative arrangement all over again, well . . .only he knew it.
Chapter 9
WhenRamsey’sphoneranghalfway through him scrambling himself some eggs, he glanced at the screen with a resigned sigh and tucked the phone between his ear and his bare shoulder.
“Took you long enough,” he told Brody.
“Eff you too.” Brody sounded exhausted, and Ramsey didn’t need to do the time zone math to know it was crazy early in California, where Brody lived with his boyfriend.
“Expected to hear from you at least half an hour ago,” Ramsey said.
“You don’t wanna know what I was doing half an hour ago,” Brody retorted, sounding marginally more awake now.
“Gross.” The dish back was automatic. Ramsey could hardly bitch at his best friend for his big, hot football-playing boyfriend when . . .well.
Not that Nate was his boyfriend. He wasn’t even his fake boyfriend. He was his . . .well, his . . .big, hot football-playingcasual dating guy. Big, hot football-playingfakecasual dating guy.
And that was a real mouthful that he wouldn’t have told Brody, even if he was telling him the whole truth.
“Got a lot of room to talk these days,” Brody said smugly.
“That didn’t take you very long.” Ramsey was resigned. He had given his best friend so much crap about Dean it was only fair that he had to take it back.
“Shoe’s on the other foot now, huh.” Brody paused. “You wanna hear the texts Wes sent me about it. Cause oh boy, there’s some good ones in there.”
“I imagine,” Ramsey said dryly. He flicked off the stove and grabbed his plate, loading it up. “Let’s get this over with, okay? I have a PT appointment this morning.”
Maybe it hadn’t been kosher to use his intricate knowledge of his best friend and his big science brain and his even bigger heart against him, but Ramsey wouldn’t be Ramsey if he didn’t try.
“How’s that going? I know you said the GyroStim was working—” He broke off abruptly. “Oh, you fucking asshole.”
