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CHAPTER TWO: SEALING THE DEAL - PART ONE
We can negotiate everything.
Harri let that phrase reverberate in her head as she climbed the stairs to her apartment. The idea intrigued her, though she was sure it shouldn’t. She wasn’t entirely naive; she’d heard of Faustian deals before. You should never bargain with a devil; it never turned out well. How could she be sure she wasn’t getting cheated?
She knew that. She did. Yet her hand clutched her phone. It felt charged with lingering power. His power. He could make bubbly soda and frosting-sweet cake appear from nowhere. Could make every word and glance stir curious hunger inside. He was temptation turned flesh and made her mind wonder what else he could do.
She should forget about it. About him. She ought to do what she’d done her whole life and choose the safe route. Digging her keys out of her purse, she started down her apartment hallway just as she heard a door creak open. Harri’s lips thinned as she saw Nate step out of his unit, a steaming dish in his hands. “Hey, Harri.”
She nodded at him. “Night, Nate.” He shouldn’t have looked so good in her hallway, waiting for her. So right. But, after a year of having him there, like a habit, he did. Handsome in an understated way, Nate looked like a nice guy. He looked like what would happen if a welcome mat became a person. His warm, hazel eyes made you feel truly seen and his smile made it seem like he’d waited all day just to see you. Even his sandy-blond hair looked tousled in an aw-shucks kind of way that made him look like he lived his life in a daydream. Harri had always thought Nate looked charming.
Facing him now, she wished he’d go away. She walked past him to her door, hating that he followed her.
“I made you dinner,” he told her as she opened her door. “Lasagna, your favorite.”
Nate really was a good cook. He’d lured her in several times over the last year with savory scents and the sweet promise of treats. She shook her head, the last regret bite of the cake she’d had earlier still making her feel full. “I already ate.”
Nate stiffened, his pot-holdered hands tensing around the Pyrex pan. “With who?”
Harri pulled up short at Nate’s tone, the words sounding clipped and tight. “Does it matter?”
Nate stepped toward her, close enough for her to feel the scalding threat emanating off the oven-hot dish. “Did you go out tonight?” His voice sounded pained and angry, straining with distress. “With who?”
Instantly, Harri flinched and retreated into her doorway. “Just Megan.”
Nate breathed out a sigh of relief. “Megan. Of course.” He smiled, looking easygoing again. He laughed at himself, the sound sweetly self-effacing. “I should have known. You’re not the kind of girl who’d cheat on someone.”
Harri fought the urge to stomp into her apartment. “I can’t cheat on you, Nate,” she said, trying to close the door on him. “We aren’t together anymore.”
Pushing his way into her home with ease, he shrugged. “Well, seeing as you’re not seeing anyone else,” he said, sweeping through her home, “we might as well still be together, right?”
Wrong. They were broken up. She shouldn’t need anyone else to make Nate see that. She shouldn’t need anyone else to make that true.
Right?
Nate placed the hot pan on her stove. “Here, take it. I made it for you, so you might as well enjoy it, right?”
Harri wanted to argue, but with what? Free food? A kind act? Every response she could think of felt childish and ungrateful, so she clenched her jaw. “You don’t need to do this anymore.” She truly didn’t want him to. They were done. This kind of thing should be too.
He simply grinned at her, removing the padded gloves from his hands. “I like doing things for you.” He moved close enough to her to brush her hair off her forehead. “I worry about you.”
She gritted her teeth. “I’m fine. Nate.”
“But, like your aunt always says, you could be better with a good meal, right?” He tapped her arm with his potholders playfully. “So enjoy it and think of me when you eat it.” He gave her one last patiently loving look before heading back to his own apartment.
It should have been sweet.
Harri found it fucking frustrating.
She glared at the lasagna on her stove as its aroma filled her home. She hated feeling his presence take up so much room in the space, making it impossible to forget him. She wanted to take the whole thing and dump it in the trash. But he’d baked it in one of his nice pans, knowing she’d have to return it to him after she was done with it. It felt deliberate. Manipulative.
So why did it leave her feeling like the bad guy, petty resentment feeling like clogging smoke in her lungs? She wanted to scream. She wanted to… do something. But what?
Her eyes flitted toward her bag, and her phone that seemed to lay waiting within.
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