CHAPTER 5
1016 Words
Emma bounced back faster than expected.
By Wednesday morning, she was skipping through the hallway in fuzzy socks, waving a homemade star chart and declaring that Pluto should be re-added to the planetary lineup “because it’s the underdog and underdogs are cool.”
Riley watched her with a grin and a knot in her chest.
Because the truth was, she liked this life. Too much. The routines. The warmth. The quiet sparkle that Emma brought into every room. The man whose gaze had become something of a gravity well pulling her closer even when she tried to resist.
It was dangerous.
But like every good teacher, Riley had always been terrible at following rules.
They were sitting on the library floor Emma, Riley, and a puzzle shaped like the solar system when Nate entered the room.
Riley didn’t see him at first. She was too busy helping Emma connect Saturn’s rings with a corner piece. But when the room shifted, silence thickening, energy altering, she looked up.
Nate stood in the doorway. He wasn’t in a suit today.
He wore dark jeans and a black sweater that looked casually expensive. His sleeves were pushed up. His hair mussed, like he’d run his hands through it one too many times.
Riley’s breath snagged.
“You’re off the clock?” she asked.
“I canceled a meeting.”
“Why?”
“Emma asked me to stay home.”
Emma beamed.
Riley blinked. “You actually listen to her.”
“Sometimes,” Nate said, crossing the room. “Other times, I pretend to be in charge.”
“Smart man.”
He knelt beside them, his knees brushing Riley’s. A quiet charge passed between them, familiar now, and still so damn dangerous.
They worked the puzzle in silence, all three heads bent over planets and orbits.
Then Emma spoke without looking up. “Are you going to marry Riley?”
Riley froze.
Nate stilled.
Emma placed Mars in the correct spot and added matter-of-factly, “She makes you smile when you forget to.”
Riley glanced sideways. Nate’s jaw flexed.
“We don’t” he started.
“I’m just the nanny,” Riley added quickly.
Emma rolled her eyes. “So?”
Nate looked at Riley. Really looked.
And for a heartbeat, the world slowed.
Later that day, Riley walked into the kitchen to grab a snack and found her phone vibrating on the counter.
Caleb.
She snatched it up, glanced around, and stepped into the hallway.
“Hey,” she whispered.
“You’re alive,” Caleb said. “That’s cool. I wasn't sure.”
“I’ve been working.”
“Right. With billionaires and sparkling bathtubs. Have you forgotten about your starving baby brother yet?”
“Please don’t call yourself my baby anything. I just ate.”
“I’m fine, Riles. I just miss you.”
Riley leaned against the wall. “I miss you too.”
“You sound tired.”
“I am.”
“Is he a monster?”
Riley hesitated. “He’s complicated.”
“That means hot, doesn’t it?”
“Caleb”
“Just don’t do anything dumb, okay?”
“Too late.”
Behind her, a soft cough made her jump.
She turned.
Nate stood at the end of the hall.
His expression unreadable.
She ended the call, slipped her phone into her pocket, and forced a smile.
“Sorry. That was”
“Your boyfriend?” Nate asked coolly.
“No,” Riley said quickly. “He’s just someone.”
Nate’s gaze flicked over her. Sharp. Assessing.
“You don’t need to explain,” he said. “I don’t own you.”
No, she thought. But if you looked at me like that for one more second, I might give myself away for free.
He turned and walked off, leaving the air colder than before.
That evening, Riley couldn’t sleep.
She paced her room, the carpet too soft beneath her feet, the silence too loud inside her head. She missed Caleb. She hated lying. And worst of all, she missed Nate even when he was in the same house.
She opened her laptop and began typing lesson notes for Emma just something to keep her hands busy. But her thoughts drifted.
To Ethan.
To Caleb.
To what would happen if either showed up here, and Nate saw everything she hadn’t told him.
Then, almost as if summoned, her phone buzzed.
A message.
Ethan.
> Still keeping secrets? Cute. I’ll be in Midtown tomorrow. We should catch up.
Her stomach turned.
She slammed the phone down and exhaled sharply.
A knock on her door.
She froze.
Another knock.
She opened it.
And there he was.
Nate Carter. In a black T-shirt and sweats. Looking every bit like a man who didn’t sleep either.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said simply.
She didn’t move.
“You shouldn’t say that.”
“I’ve thought about it for days.”
“Nate”
“I know the clause. I wrote the damn clause.”
“And now you want to rewrite it?”
“I want” He stopped himself. Stepped closer. “I want to stop feeling like touching you would ruin everything.”
Her pulse thundered.
“And what if it would?” she whispered.
“I’d still do it.”
He reached for her, not to kiss, not to grab but to touch. Just his fingers brushing her wrist.
It was almost nothing.
And yet everything.
Her eyes fluttered closed.
“I’m scared,” she said.
“Of me?”
“Of wanting something that can’t last.”
He was quiet for a long moment.
Then softly he said, “Me too.”
She opened her eyes.
And there they stood, hearts loud, lips close, not touching but almost.
She could’ve leaned forward. Closed the gap.
But she didn’t.
Because wanting was already dangerous.
And needing? That was lethal.
So she stepped back.
And he let her.
But as he left, closing the door behind him, she knew they’d already crossed a line.
- Writer
