Dear Rosie, (Love Letters #2)

NATE

“Here she is now.” I hold my arm out, gesturing to Rosie’s arrival as I hear her crutches approach. But then I turn, and my mouth goes dry.

Because Rosie is wearing one of my work shirts.

And she looks like a fucking advertisement for late-night sex and bad ideas.

“Hello,” she says quietly. Shyly. And it’s like a dinner bell for my genitals.

I clear my throat. “Hannah, Maddox, you remember Rosie.”

“She’s Nate’s girlfriend,” Chelsea calls out.

“That she is, Smidge.” I close the distance to Rosie so I can place a hand possessively on her back. “Rosie, you know Hannah and Maddox.”

Her muscles relax under my palm, and a sense of pride fills my chest.

I did that.

I made her feel comfortable.

“Sit, sit.” Ruth, ever the mother, directs everyone to the table after the round ofhellosis finished.

Rosie takes the closest chair, and I help her scoot in.

The office chair was useful, but I left it in the bedroom, assuming she wouldn’t want to use it for dinner.

Plates are passed out, and Maddox uses the serving utensils to start dishing out food.

Chelsea chatters away about all the food they made today, telling Hannah every detail of every dish.

Maddox lifts a brow at me, and I just shrug. The girl has an excellent memory.

Happy to listen, I shove spanakopita into my mouth.

“I’ve been meaning to ask all day.” Ruth turns to Rosie. “How did you two meet?”

Rosie glances at me, but my mouth is too full to reply.

She sets her fork down, and I wonder if she’s going to tell them the whole truth or say we met at the party.

“We, um, actually go way back,” she tells Ruth.

My heart gives a little squeeze.

I don’t know why I thought she might not want to admit that, but a part of me did.

“Really?” Maddox drags out the word, but I refuse to look at him.

I gave him so much shit over not telling me about Hannah when she reappeared in his life that I know I have a good reaming coming.

But instead of facing the music, I just fill my mouth with more spanakopita.

“You two dated before?” Hannah asks.

Rosie shakes her head. “No, nothing like that. We were friends when we were kids.”

“Really?” Maddox repeats, slightly louder this time.