Nine-tenths of the Law

Chapter Thirty

“You’re awfully quiet.”

Lying beside me in bed, Nathan turned to me and smiled, but it seemed forced. “Sorry, guess I’m a bit spacey tonight.”

“Anything wrong?”

The smile fell and his gaze shifted to the ceiling again. I rolled onto my side, propping myself up on my elbow. I put my hand on his chest and he put his over mine, clasping it gently. For a long time, everything was still except his heart beating beneath my palm and his thumb running back and forth across the side of my hand.

He ran his free hand through his sweaty, disheveled hair. His sudden shift from playful and horny to this was unsettling. In fact, it was hard to believe this was the same person I’d just slept with. He didn’t seem angry. Whatever it was that had changed, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It almost seemed, I realized with a sick feeling in my gut, like regret.

“Nathan?”

He looked at me. “I’m just…” He paused. Sighed. Looked up again. “Just been thinking about all of the bullshit with Jake. And, you know, how we got started.”

The sick feeling turned into a sinking feeling. “What about it?”

He shrugged and started to speak, then stopped. After a moment, he turned to me. “I guess I’m just trying to be realistic about all of this. About us.”

“We can’t change how things got started between us.”

“I know.” He ran the tip of his tongue across his lower lip. “I just keep going back to this whole trust thing. With all the bullshit we keep running into about trust-”

“I trust you.”

He sighed and squeezed my hand gently. “I know you do.” The silence hung between us for a moment, loudly emphasizing what he didn’t say.

I pursed my lips. “I don’t know what else I can do to convince you to do the same.”

“Zach, it goes beyond just you. It even goes beyond Jake.” He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. “The way we met got us off on the wrong foot, but even with that aside, my track record with guys is…” He paused and shook his head. “The one before him was just as bad. Worse, even.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, then touched his arm. “What happened?”

He closed his eyes again, taking another long, deep breath. “I lived with a guy. Name was Stephen. In law school. We met when we were first-year students, split during our third year.” He was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on something, his lips tightening into that familiar almost-a-snarl line. “Fuck, anything you can think of that a guy can do to be an ass, he did it. Treated me like shit. Stole from me. Drank too much. Cheated on and off me.”

“Cheated on and off you?” I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”

He laughed bitterly. “Apparently cheating on me with another guy wasn’t enough. He also used one of my papers to cheat in a class we had together. Damn near got us both thrown out of school, but fortunately, I convinced the dean that I had nothing to do with it.”

“Jesus,” I said. “And you stayed with him for two years because?”

“Same reason I stayed with Jake for four years.” He didn’t sound so angry now. Sad, if anything. “Because I loved him.”

And right now, I hate them both. “I guess love is blind, isn’t it?”

“Or stupid.” He shrugged. “So between Stephen and Jake, my love life has been rather disastrous. In fact, Stephen…” He shifted a little on the bed, as if the conversation made him physically uncomfortable. “That bastard is the reason I prefer to give rather than receive.”

Ice water surged through my veins. “Fuck, is there anything he didn’t do to you?”

“He never forgot my birthday.”

“Oh, what a charmer.”

“So, after all the shit with those two,” he said, “I’m sure you understand why trust and I aren’t very good friends.”

“I’ve understood that from the beginning,” I said, trying to hide my frustration behind sympathy. “I just don’t know how to get us past it.” How the hell was I supposed to compete with the Ghosts of Nathan’s Fucked-Up Past? No matter what I did to prove that I was worthy of his trust, all he heard was the lies of his past.

He trailed his fingers along my shoulder. “Zach, you get where I’m coming from, don’t you?”

I sighed. “Yeah, I do.” I understood, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating. This was the first relationship I’d ever had that didn’t start with at least a basic foundation of trust. Neutrality, at least, the assumption that both parties were innocent until proven guilty.

Before we even knew each other’s names, we’d distrusted each other. We’d started out in a way that couldn’t possibly be conducive to any kind of lasting relationship because this wasn’t supposed to become any kind of lasting relationship. We’d been thrown together by lies, drawn back together by physical attraction, and now teetered precariously because we lacked the one thing no relationship could function without.

I didn’t want to lose him, but I didn’t know how to keep him.

Nathan released a long breath and rubbed his eyes. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing and if he’d come to the same conclusions. It doesn’t matter how great a house is if it’s built on sand. Sooner or later, it’s going to come down. With a sick feeling twisting in my gut, I wasn’t sure if I should try to find a way to put us on solid ground, or just come to terms with the fact that it was a lost cause.

His hand sought mine and clasped it gently, running his thumb alongside my hand.

I swallowed hard. There has to be a way. Looking up at the ceiling, I chewed my lip, trying to think of something. Anything.

A thought crossed my mind that gave me pause. Did I dare? I cast a surreptitious glance at him, watching him stare at the ceiling, his brow knitted together. This could work or it could seriously blow up in my face, if he even agrees to do it.

This was something I’d never even thought to do without having someone’s complete trust, so I questioned the wisdom of even considering it. Then again, maybe the best way to get him to trust me was to convince him to jump in with both feet. To just do it.

Was it worth the risk?

“What’s wrong?” he asked after a long silence.

I sat up, swallowing hard. “You want to trust me, right?”

He exhaled. “I do, I definitely do.”

Leaning away, I reached for the nightstand drawer. “If you want to trust me…” When I came back, I looked at him, watching his eyes widen at the pair of handcuffs hanging from my outstretched hand. “Then trust me.”