If This Was a Movie (Evergreen Park #2)

Chapter 35 – Jules

THIRTY-FIVE

JULES

I sit bundled in the living room, staring at the fireplace as Nate continues to poke it, shifting the wood or adding more. The power is back, but I think Nate just wants a distraction, something to keep himself busy.

“Are you still mad at me?” I finally blurt out. It’s been bugging me since we cleaned up post-mind-blowing sex.

Nate, normally so chatty and outgoing, has been quiet and contemplative. Though I let him be, I know if I continue with this elephant in the room, I’ll start to overthink everything, and that’s not good for anyone. If I want to move forward without this cloud of dread and panic hanging over me, I need to actually talk to Nate and tell him what I’m thinking.

He looks at the fire, closing his eyes and sighing before standing, crossing his arms on his chest. He’s in just a pair of sweats while I’m in one of his way-too-big-for-me tees, and he looks absolutely delicious. A flat stomach that’s just a bit soft that has a light, happy trail disappearing beneath his dark gray sweatpants, and arms and shoulders that I now know from personal experience are strong enough to hold me against a wall while he fucks me breathless.

My pussy clenches, like now that we’ve crossed that barrier, she has a lot of making up she would like us to do.

“Are you still going to pretend there’s nothing between us?” he asks, an eyebrow raised and a small smile on his lips. I shake my head with a similar smile because there’s no point in that anymore. “Then no. I’m not mad at you.”

“So you were mad at me?” I ask, my stomach turning in on itself.

He sighs, sitting on the edge of the couch. The fire lets out a loud pop that catches both of our attentions before he looks back at me.

“A little? I don’t know.” He looks at his hands before continuing to speak. “Frustrated is probably the right word. I was frustrated you were standing in the way of something we both really wanted. I was frustrated that you couldn’t look past your fear and take the leap. But you also have really great points: there is more than just you and me to worry about if things go sideways. There’s Sophie and Claire. My entire family is already obsessed with you.”

“Most have barely even met me yet!” I say with a laugh.

“Claire has been talking about you for the last six months, Sophie screams about you every chance she gets, and, of course, there’s me.”

“You?” I ask with a smile. “Are you talking about me to your family?”

“Every chance I can get, dollface. They’re very excited to spend more time with you at the Christmas party next week if you’d like to be my date.” My stomach roils thinking about it, but he just smiles. “All that to say, I’m not mad at you. I was just frustrated that you wouldn’t give us a chance. We can be great, baby. I just want you to allow us to be.”

“I’m going to do my best,” I say low. “But I can’t guarantee I’m always going to be…brave,” I say.

“All I ask is that you talk to me, Jules. You’re allowed to feel the way you do, there’s nothing wrong with that. But when you’re scared, I want you to talk to me. If you’re confused, you talk to me. We can do almost anything, so long as we talk it through.”

I smile, loving this. This new relationship is based on open, honest communication, and him already knowing all of my faults, shortcomings, and fears. Even more, I love that he doesn’t see them as shortcomings, but more as something we have to work through together.

That’s beautiful, if you ask me. Something even better than the movies because there’s no obnoxious miscommunication or anything.

“All right, enough about this. I’m crazy about you, you’re crazy about me,” he says, a wide smile on his face as he moves toward me.

I squeal as he throws back the blanket covering me, slides under, and cozies up to me, pressing his lips to my neck.

“Say it again,” he whispers there, his hand moving under my shirt to soothingly rub up and down my back. I close my eyes at the feel and sigh.

“Say what?”

“Tell me you love me, Jules. I want to hear it when it’s not in the heat of the moment and we’re arguing.” I take in a deep breath, my heartbeat picking up with nerves. “But only if you feel it. Only if you’re ready. If you’re not, I’ll wait,” he adds hesitantly, picking up on those nerves.

But they aren’t because I don’t love Nate. They aren’t because I’m not ready for that. It’s just because I know as soon as I say it, there’s no turning back. There’s no putting space between us because I’m scared or hesitant. There’s no more protecting myself from potential future harm, there’s just trust that this is going to work, that we will work together to get our forever. If I tell Nate I love him, I'm putting my heart in his hands, and that’s a scary thing.

My hand lifts, resting on his cheek and forcing him to look at me while I take a deep breath before I give him everything. “I love you, Nate,” I whisper, looking him in the eye, letting him see everything: how much I love him, how deep that goes, that all of my walls are completely crumbled. He waits a moment before sighing deep, relief in the noise and resting his forehead on mine, then pressing his lips to mine, a gentle, easy press of lips that means more than it lets on.

“Nothing more beautiful,” he whispers against my lips. “Nothing more beautiful than you giving me that. I love you, Julianne. Thank you for giving me this. For giving me you.”

It confirms I made the right choice, that he understands what it means that I’m giving him myself, and that he’s going to make keeping my heart safe the utmost priority.

His head moves to my neck then, holding me tight and pressing a kiss there. I sigh contentedly, my hand running through his hair. We lay like that for long moments before finally, I break the comfortable silence.

“Snow days seem to be our thing,” I say.

A laugh moves through Nate as his head moves back and his fingers run through my hair. My eyes drift shut, not because I’m tired but because being in his arms feels so damn good. I’ve always loved having my hair played with, but add laying on a couch with Nate, a cozy blanket pulled up tight, and a fire in the fireplace…it doesn’t get better than that.

“Yeah, I guess they do.” There’s a long pause—not an uncomfortable one, but one all the same. Eventually, I feel his eyes on me, despite mine being close. “Every time it snowed, I thought of you,” he whispers.

“Really?” I ask, eyes opening.

“Last year was the snowiest winter in ten years; it felt like the schools were closed more than they were open,” he says, not exactly explaining.

I remember that, the way the schools were forced to stay in session almost until July in order to make up for all of the extra snow days they had to take.

“It was the winter I met you, and the winter I lost you. Every time I saw snow in the forecast, I hated it, knowing I’d remember laying in my bed, your head on my chest just like this, the world quiet.” A small, humorless laugh comes from his lips. “It felt like the world reminded me of you, like it didn’t want me to forget.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you, Nate,” I whisper, the guilt of it heavy. I should have been an adult, reached out, and confronted him. This all could have been so much different if I had.

“No, no. You did what you thought was best for you. I’d want my sisters or Sophie to do the same if that’s how they felt. It just sucks it happened to us. I missed a whole year of this.”

“Fucking?” I ask.

His laugh has much more humor in it, and he shifts, rolling me so I’m on my back, Nate hovering over me.

“Definitely lost a year of that,” he says with a broad smile before doing a push-up, pressing his lips to mine. “But I meant this. You and me. Laying together, kissing you. Spending time together, learning you. You meeting Sophie, getting to know my family. I wish I could get it back.”

I let the small whisper of a smile stay on my lips, battling the heartache of it all as I reach up, pushing his hair away from his face.

“I’m not going anywhere, Nate,” I whisper. “Unless, of course, you come out of the woodwork with some hidden family I don’t know of.” I smile wide at him with that. “Then I might have to ghost you again.”

“Mmm,” he says. “No, no, I think you’re good on that one. Plus, if you disappeared, my family would now come find you. Even they know I’m meant to be yours.”

“Claire texts me at least once a day, making sure we’re still together and you haven’t fucked it up,” I confess with a laugh.

“Gotta love her confidence in me,” he says with an eye roll, then pressed his lips to mine once more. His hand moves down to grab mine, twining the fingers and bringing them to his lips, where he presses a kiss.

“I’m still really scared.” I whisper my truth to him and watch the way his face drops just a tiny bit. It’s so subtle that if I hadn’t dissected his every move, I would have missed it. “I’m scared, but I’m going to try and be brave.” That shadow of doubt vanishes, replaced by a wider, joy-filled smile. “I’m going to be brave because I know this—us? It’s worth it.”

A long moment passes, Nate staring and smiling at me before his hand moves, brushing my hair back.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you for being brave for us.”

I don’t tell him how much I appreciate him not telling me I don’t have to be scared or that there’s nothing to worry about, invalidating my fears even if he means well. But I must show it on my face because his smile goes soft and knowing.

He presses his lips to mine again like he can’t resist doing otherwise before whispering, “Pancakes, right? Snowman pancakes for a snow day?”

My smile is soft when I give it to him.

“Yeah, Nate. Snowman pancakes.”