Free Floating by Natasha Thomas

ask,
    “Ronnie?”
     
    Slowly turning towards the man who spoke, my heart started pounding; my palms had begun sweating too. I knew that voice. It was a voice that visited me in my dreams almost nightly, regardless of the years gone by. It was one that I could pick out of a thousand. Turning to fully face him, I couldn’t help, but let out a gasp at what I saw. My. God. He was sexy; so very handsome now, not that he wasn’t before.
     
    At the same six foot three, but now weighing more like 240 pounds of defined muscle, Nate was breathtaking. The black t-shirt he was wearing stretched tightly across his broad chest, his shoulders were so wide they resembled a line backer’s, not a mechanic’s. Powerful denim clad thighs, with, heavily veined thick forearms made up one of the most beautiful men I’d ever seen. My gaze finally made its way up, and stopped on his face. Chiselled cheekbones, a strong square jaw covered in a five o’clock shadow that looked awesome on him, and made him look so much more mature, he was even more rugged and manly than he was when I last saw him at nineteen. He wore his same blue-black hair styled in its usual well kept, Mohawk; and his eyes. His beautiful moss green eyes looked over me like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Nate looked older now. Not in a bad way, no, not at all. Just older and more worldly.
     
    I know in reality he was, it had been four years after all. What I meant was he looked harder, a little rougher maybe. The years had been more than kind looks wise, and in his maturity Nate was nothing short of delicious.
     
    Blinking rapidly, he took a step toward me while at the same time I took a step back, placing my hands on my hips. Before he could speak I asked, “Is there something I can help you with?”
     
    Nate narrowed his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. It was a tell-tale sign that he was amused. “Sure is Ronnie. You could get your ass over here and give me a hug. I missed you like crazy, girl.”
     
    I almost laughed out loud. I mean really? He missed me? I snorted out a very unladylike sound that would have made my mom cringe, and took another step backwards, away from him. I was proud of myself for not giving in to the overwhelming urge to launch myself into his big strong arms like I used to. But I wasn’t the same little girl anymore, and he sure as hell wasn’t the same boy I once knew. “I don’t tend to hug strangers, sorry. It gives them the wrong idea. They can turn into creepy stalker types, and I have no desire to be carted off and kidnapped, only to end up in pieces in the woods somewhere.”
     
    Glaring openly at me now, I notice Nate’s hands open and close, settling on tightly clenched fists at his sides. “Had a lot of those, Ronnie?” he asked with a raised brow, before adding, “Creepy stalker types, I mean,” for clarification.
     
    Shaking my head at him, I scowl and make a move to walk away from him without answering. I don’t get a chance though. His big hand clamps down on my wrist, not painfully, but in a grasp I know I can’t break, and he spins me to face him. “Where’s my sweet Sunshine that I’ve missed for fucking years, Ronnie? What happened to her?” How dare he? How dare he ask what happened to the girl he once knew when he was the one who left, never to be heard from again.
     
    I blow out a frustrated breath and laugh humourlessly. What a dick. “Hmmm, let’s see. She shrivelled up and died in a hole when her best friend took off, never came back, never called, never fucking anything. It’s hard to be all sunshine and lollipops when you’re fucking sad all the time. Guess you wouldn’t know anything about that though, would you? You were the one off living it up, after all.” I arch my brow, challenging him to deny anything I’ve just said.
     
    Pulling me closer, Nate cups my cheeks and looks straight into my eyes, “I know, I’m an asshole, and I’m so fucking sorry for not calling