Maddy: Oh. Right.
Nate: And no chill.
Maddy: Fine, fine.
Maddy: You’re no fun.
A new message pinged with Nate’s address.
And then a second one.
Nate: Is seven good?
Maddy: Yep, all good.
Maddy: Should I bring anything?
Nate: Like what?
Maddy: I don’t know. Something to eat or drink maybe?
Nate: No need.
Nate: Yourself will be more than plenty.
Maddy: Why do I feel as if I should be offended?
Nate didn’t dignify that with an answer.
six
At a couple of minutes to seven, Maddy was standing outside Nate’s doorstep, one hand raised to ring the doorbell. Apparently, his house was easily within walking distance, just 15 minutes away, in a quiet suburban neighborhood.
Nate’s small but charming house was the one right on the junction of the street, with a nice patch of grass at the front, and all sorts of sports evidence strewn everywhere, mainly a few basketballs and soccer balls she was careful not to step on and fall spectacularly. She also thought she saw a basketball hoop attached to one side of the wall.
The door swung open and Nate’s blank face and imposing form appeared in the doorway. It seemed as if the few hours that Maddy hadn’t seen him had dulled her memory of him because she suddenly felt as if the cat had gotten her tongue. Her eyes seemed to trail down his body of their own volition. He was wearing loose jeans that hugged him to perfection and a long-sleeved, dark blue T-shirt that was really… um… nice.
“Hey,” Maddy managed to croak, trying not to squirm a little under his gaze. Her bravado had taken a hike now that they were face to face. His dark eyes were intent on her face, his hair falling carelessly on his forehead, as if he’d run his hand through it and just let it fall wherever.
“Come in,” Nate muttered, letting her move past him into what looked like a short hallway that led to the living room.
“Is your family here? Should I say hello?” Maddy asked, hesitantly.
Nate threw a look over his shoulder before saying, “My mom isn’t home yet from work and my brother is in his room. He won’t even notice we’re here, so don’t bother yourself.”
Maddy nodded and followed Nate to what she assumed was his room while trying to steal glances here and there without snooping too much.
Stepping into his room, Maddy tried to look as if she wasn’t as curious as she felt. She tried to school her expression into something normal before Nate noticed her. She didn’t know why she was making such a big deal out of nothing. It was a typical room but she felt like she was getting a glimpse into Nate’s personal space and she didn’t want to take it for granted.
Nate’s room looked very organized—his bed made up, his books and CDs on the shelves of a small bookcase above his desk neatly arranged, and some sports paraphernalia, like basketball trophies and medals, added the finishing touches here and there.
It made Maddy feel comfortable and immediately at ease.
“What’s that look for?” Nate narrowed his eyes at her.
“Nothing. It’s silly,” she laughed a bit awkwardly. “I never thought I’d see what Nathaniel Keaton’s room looked like.”
Nate frowned, his expression puzzled. “Why are you calling me that?”
