Page 143 of The Risk Taker

38

LOGAN

Ifeel like I’m gonna throw up.

And I know, technically, this has nothing to do with me, but my body hasn’t gotten the memo. My hands are clammy, my stomach’s a mess, and my heart’s pounding way harder than it should for someone who’s… sitting on a couch. Doing absolutely nothing.

Well. Nothing except pretending to watch some shitty action movie that Austin picked. And failing—badly—at pretending I care what’s happening on the screen.

I bounce my leg.

Shift in my seat.

Check my phone again, even though I already know there’s nothing new.

Nathan’s the one waiting for news, but somehow, I’m the one vibrating with anxiety. I glance over toward the kitchen for maybe the fourth time in five minutes, then scrub a hand over my face.

Screw it.

I push up from the couch and make my way into the kitchen.

Nathan’s leaning against the counter, holding his phone in his hand. His thumb keeps swiping the screen like maybe refreshing it will magically change something. He doesn’t look up right away, which is how I know it’s not good news. His brows are pulled tight, his mouth a flat line.

“So?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.

He lifts his head and meets my eyes. “Not yet.”

I nod slowly, stepping in closer. “Okay. That’s okay.”

He doesn’t say anything, just exhales through his nose, his gaze dropping back to his phone. I come up behind him, sliding my arms around his waist and tugging him back against me.

I hate how stiff he still feels. Like he’s bracing for bad news, so I press a slow kiss to the side of his neck, letting my lips linger there for a second. “It could still get posted tomorrow, baby. Don’t psych yourself out.”

He blows out a breath. “Jackson said he got his twenty minutes ago.”

I frown against his skin, jealousy pricking my skin. “And who the hell is Jackson?”

That gets me a huff of laughter, finally, and he glances over his shoulder. “He’s in my art class. And I’m pretty sure he’s straight.”

I tighten my arms around him and lean in. “Doesn’t matter. Because you’re mine.”

Nathan twists in my hold to face me, and there is the little flicker of a smile I’ve been waiting for. “There’s no need to be jealous. I only have eyes for you.”

Never going to get tired of hearing Nathan say that.

I raise an eyebrow and smirk. “That’s fucking right,” I murmur, giving his ass a squeeze.

His head tips forward slightly as he lets out a breath, a soft laugh slipping out of him. He’s still wound tight, though. SoI step closer, hook my finger under his chin, and tilt his face toward mine.

His lips are so soft and warm, and when my fingers slide into his hair, he exhales into my mouth, like maybe kissing me is the only thing that lets him breathe right now.

I press him back into the counter with my hips, and he groans against my lips.

God. I could lose myself in him so damn easily.

But he’s still got that worried look in his eyes when I pull back, and I know he’s too focused on the email. I swipe my thumb across his bottom lip.

“Come on,” I murmur, even though I kind of want to kiss him again until he forgets how to be anxious. “Let’s go hang with the others.”