If I wasn’t so confused about Nate right now, I could just hug him.
“Alright, now let’s celebrate that first week of work,” he says, sitting back down next to Ikram, and I can’t help but notice the way he looks at my brother. His eyes shining with admiration and longing.
I didn’t have the opportunity to talk to him about it. He’s been pretty adamant about not dating for a while, too scared to get hurt again and worried he can’t find someone with the patience to deal with him and support his disease.
But Ikram is ready for all that. I’ve noticed the subtle touches and looks they exchange, and I think Jack should give it a chance.
“We were saving you a chair, but you guys took so long to order that it got stolen,” Evie sighs in her glass, looking around her in search of a potential free seat. “There’s just one spot next to Jack, if he can scoop a little closer to Ikram, but maybe we can look for another—”
“We’ll be fine,” Nate says, squeezing my waist. I don’t see his face as he’s standing right behind me, but I can hear the smug smile in his voice. “Won’t we,baby?”
“What are you doing?” I ask, through gritted teeth, turning my face just enough to see him smirk at me over my shoulder.
“The seat is facing the bar,” he whispers in my ear, and I notice Jack’s gaze narrow from the corner of my eyes. “Perfect to give Raph a show. There’re no other seats, you could sit on my lap.”
My throat bobs.
Oh god, what the hell have I launched myself into?
“There’s no need for you to call mebaby,” I grit out.
“Poking your brother one last time, remember?” He chuckles, his nose brushing my temple and the warm puffs of hair burning my cheeks. My eyes meet Jack’s narrowed ones and I force a smile.
“Fine,” I mutter, stepping away from him to let him sit next to Jack who scoots closer to Ikram.
I don’t have the time to think about it, that Nate’s arm circles my waist and pulls me down on his lap. However, despite my best efforts to stay on the edge of his knees, avoiding all unnecessary contact, my back quickly becomes tired, and I struggle to focus on the conversation they’re all having.
After about ten minutes of me fighting with myself, oblivious to theworld surrounding me, Nate lifts his knees slightly, making me fall backward and land right against his chest with a gasp.
“You looked like you were trying to find a solution to reach world peace,” he whispers in my ear, tightening his arm around me so I can’t even try to go back to the uncomfortable spot at the edge of his knees. “Relax. We’ll get you a chair as soon as we can, since I’m not comfortable enough for you,” he chuckles.
I roll my eyes and let out a frustrated sigh but don’t object and don’t try to move away. My back is actually thanking me for his hard chest now supporting it.
“Care to explain why you guys are wearing matching red wristbands?” Jack finally asks, tilting his head towards our hands. Nate’s resting on the top of my thigh and mine, fisted awkwardly next to it.
“Raph’s here,” I mutter through my teeth. “With his ex-wife turned girlfriend. And he’s been trying to talk to me, despite asking me to quit a month ago.”
“Still doesn’t explain this,” Jack says, arching a brow. “Do you guys have something to share with the group?”
I frown, confused, but Nate’s chest rumbles in my back and his breathy chuckle warms the side of my face. Again.
“Nate’s only trying to help. In his… own weird way. Raph will probably leave me alone if he believes I’m with someone…” I pause, turning a little to see him, narrowing my eyes. “What the hell happened between you too? That whole exchange was hostile, and it sure as fuck wasn’t because of me.”
He winces when I move but grumbles, after clearing his throat. “That’s a story for another day.”
“So you’re telling me that I won’t be an uncle soon?” Jack adds playfully. “Shame. I was hoping I’d be one before I—”
“Oh no, don’t you dare finish that sentence,” I cut him off with a glare but he just grins at me.
“I didn’t know you wanted to be an uncle,” Nate adds, and his fingers start rubbing distractedly on my thigh. “That can be arranged, rightbaby?”
I groan in frustration, but turn back to face forward, feeling him tensing again behind me, his hand gripping suddenly on my thigh. I realize then, his wallet, or keys are pressing against my ass. Me moving around probably hurtshim. “Do you need me to stand up so you can put your wallet away?”
I lean forward to stand but he grabs my hips quickly pulling me back down before my ass ever leaves his lap, muttering a curse as he rests his forehead against the back of my head. “Not my wallet,” he rasps. “Please don’t stand up, and stop moving around.”
17
UNCOMFORTABLE
