Free Manhattan Muse: A Contemporary Romance by Vivian Wilde Page B

and, just like old times, ordered a complimentary bottle of wine to our meals.
    He never once pressed the issue with prying questions and didn’t let the awkward silences drag on for too long. He was the perfect gentlemen, and it made me relax by the time dessert was served.
    “So, what were you doing at the gym?” I said. This was the last question I had on deck before I dove into the daunting ones about his co-star.
    “I am training for a sequel,” Nate said. “It requires me to be buff and manly, so I am back to eating boiled chicken and brown rice.”
    I gasped a little too hard, and it was then that we both realized the wine was kicking in.
    “That’s no way for a man to eat,” I said, trying to recover.
    “It gives me something to look forward to, knowing I will splurge with you,” Nate said, smiling. I flashed him one back before tipping my glass to my lips once again. I knew he was referring to my drinking as well as his plate that housed neither chicken nor rice.
    “I saw you at the Grammys,” I said. “You looked good in your suit. So did your co-star.”
    “Oh, Minka, yeah she did look stunning,” Nate said while polishing off his plate. “I, however, have a little known secret. I actually wear the same suit to every award ceremony. Gucci.”
    “You wouldn’t say,” I said, my eyes dancing with jealousy at the sound of her name. He recalled it so fast. I tried to tell my brain that it was overanalyzing everything as it usually does. He worked with her for months on end. Of course he remembered her name.
    Nate excused himself from the table and, in his absence, I did the only thing I could think to do to calm my breaking heart. I asked the waiter to pour me another glass. It escaped the glass as fast as it met it.
    By the time Nate returned, I was finishing off the last few bites of my dessert.
    “It’s really chilly,” I said in discomfort. By the look cast across Nate’s face, he knew I was lying, but he played along. “Can we go?”
    “Of course,” Nate said, grasping my hand in his before paying the bill.
    He led me down the lobby to the cab, held me in silence the entire way home, and walked me to my door. It was only then that I broke the silence.
    “I think you should come inside,” I said, grabbing his face and thrusting it into my own. I met his lips and dispelled immense passion on impact. I could sense Nate turning alternative solutions over in his mind as my hand caressed the side of his face over and over again with even strokes. “Please? I need you.”
    “I think it’s best if we wait until we are both sober,” Nate said, trying to stop the cut of each word from breaking my heart.
    “No,” I whined. I couldn’t help the way I was acting. Despite being one of the strongest, independent women, I had been reduced to a co-dependent mess. All I needed right now was a warm body next to me. “All I need right now is to express myself, and say all of the things that I haven’t gotten to say for six months. And, if I’m right, you wanted to as well. Unless talking about Minka and your weight training was your way of expressing your feelings?”
    Nate sighed. “I’m scared.”
    “I am too,” I whispered. A tear rolled down my cheek and I instantly hated myself because I knew it was taking the makeup I had painted across my imperfections down with it.
    “No, you don’t know what I did while you were gone,” Nate said. My heart sank as I assumed what he was referring to.
    “Yes, I do,” I said. Those three words were the most painful in all of my lifetime. “Come inside, please.”
    I led him up the stairs to my apartment and stumbled onto the couch with two glasses of water. It didn’t take long for my gaze to make Nate’s body engulf mine. He positioned me on his lap and ran his nails gently down my back as I planted light kisses along his neck.
    “I ’ve missed you so much,” Nate said. His voice was shaking the most it ever had. “But don’t hate me when