Dear Rosie, (Love Letters #2)

“No. Never.” His smile dims. “Have you been worried about that all night?”

I lift a shoulder.

“Rosie.” He holds a hand against his chest. “I’ve never so much as kissed that woman. Or anyone else at this conference.”

I bite my lip. “Have you ever cheated on anyone?”

He shakes his head, but it’s a slow shake. “I have not. But there have been a few women in college who thought we were dating when we weren’t, so they might argue otherwise. But I’ve never cheated on a girlfriend.”

I screw up my face. “That’s… very honest.”

He chuckles, but it’s lacking humor. “Price of fame. You can find all sorts of stories, true and false, on the internet. So there’s no point in lying.”

Something that’s not quite pity settles against me. “I hadn’t thought of that.” My shoulders slump. “Sorry, I just… It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a relationship.”

“Me too, Beautiful. But I’m not going to fuck this up. Not with anyone here. Not with anyone anywhere.” He sits up straighter. “I know this is new, you and me. But I’ll prove myself to you. Prove you can trust me.”

His words make my chest hurt as guilt floods me. “I trust you.” My voice cracks a little, and I swallow. “I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone. I just… I just hated the way that woman sounded talking to you. Like she knew you,” I admit, giving him some of that trust. “I’ve never felt jealousy like I did yesterday on the phone with you. And after, well… I just couldn’t let it go. I’m sorry.”

Nathan shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I promise to never give you a reason to be jealous, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like it.”

“You like me being jealous?” My brows furrow.

“Yeah, Rosie. Call me an asshole, but I like you being heated over another woman trying to talk to me.”

“Why?” I ask, not understanding.

“Because it means you care.”

My shoulders drop. “I do care. I care about you a lot, Nathan.”

“I know you do.” His smile is so kind. So forgiving.

Something starts beeping in his room.

“Shit, I gotta go.” He glances down at his watch. “Give that cat some belly scratches for me.”

I force a smile on my face. “I will.”

“Bye, Beautiful. I’ll call tonight. And stop worrying. And keep that foot up.”

“Promise,” I whisper, then he’s gone.

I stare at my screen, where Nathan’s face used to be, and I think about that word again.

Love.

I think about how much I want to say it to him.

How I want to ask if he really meant it.

But the hope of that…

The hope of love…

The hope of a future. Of happiness.

God, it fucking hurts.