We didn’t know until Janey, a young colleague of mine who was obsessed with checking out the Facebook page ‘Spotted: Edinburgh Uni Library’ – a page used primarily for students to ask out students they’d seen in the library, but also a page for them to post about students who’d pissed them off in the library, or done one of a million disgusting things noted online – discovered it on the student page. It had greatly amused our student body. It had not greatly amused my boss.

He sent me home early, where I downed about six cups of tea in hopes of finding whatever harmony it was that British people thought tea provided. No harmony to be found.

Nate was coming over to start our lessons and I was ready to upchuck what little I’d eaten all over him.

About twenty minutes before the time he was set to arrive, my dad called me. He was over at Dee’s and they were inviting me to dinner.

‘I’d love to, Dad, but I can’t. Nate’s coming over.’

‘Nate’s always over,’ Dad replied, not sounding happy about that.

‘Nate’s my friend.’

‘Hmmph.’

‘Dad.’

‘He’s a player.’

‘We’re just friends,’ I promised, although my skin was tingling with the anticipation of the possibilities for tonight. What on earth was he really going to be able to teach me? And how would he do it? I was going to die of embarrassment. I just knew it. Nate was all sex and charisma. He probably had a mouth on him. No, I knew he had a mouth on him. Would he expect me to talk to guys the way he talked to girls?

My eyes bugged out at the thought.

‘Liv, you there?’

‘Yeah, Dad.’

‘Dee’s asking if you’d like to come over for dinner on Wednesday night instead?’

‘Sounds great. I’ll be there.’

‘How are you feeling today? Still hungover? You were pretty smashed at the wedding.’

I nervously ran my fingers through my hair as I tried to think back to the reception. ‘Did I, uh, say anything embarrassing?’

Dad laughed. ‘No. You were a funny drunk, sweetheart. Who took you home, by the way? You never said when I texted you yesterday.’

‘Nate took me home. He’s decent like that,’ I pointedly reminded him.

‘If you say so.’

My buzzer sounded and I flinched. ‘Got to go, Dad. Nate is here.’

We said good-bye quickly and I hung up as I hurried to the door to let Nate in. I was standing tapping my foot impatiently as I waited for him. The sounds of his footsteps in the concrete stairwell seemed to match the rhythm of my heartbeat, and by the time he appeared in my doorway I was just about ready for passing out.

Nate reared back at the sight of me. ‘Christ, you look as though you’re about to faint.’

I gulped. Loudly. ‘Nervous over here.’

He shut the door behind him, grimacing. ‘What the hell for? It’s just me.’

I glared at him.

‘Okay. Be nervous.’ He strode past me, shrugging out of his jacket. He threw it on the couch and then walked into the kitchen to take two beers out of the fridge. I caught the one that he tossed to me. Uncapping his beer, he gestured to me with the bottle. ‘To calm your nerves.’

When he didn’t say anything for five minutes – five very long minutes – I sat down on the arm of my couch and took a sip of beer.

‘Okay, talk me through it.’ Nate suddenly spoke up and I almost coughed on my beer at the seeming loudness of his voice in my little flat. ‘What happens exactly when a guy you’re attracted to speaks to you?’

Trying not to be any more of a dork than I already was, I fought back the blush that was determined to stain my cheeks. ‘I get tongue-tied.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m very tempted to insert a sarcastic reply here, but I’ll just go with a simple shrug.’ I shrugged.

‘Don’t give me that “I don’t know, and if I did, I wouldn’t need you” bullshit. Why do you get tongue-tied?’

I was really attempting not to get pissed at him. That wouldn’t be a good start. Clenching my teeth, I answered as if it was obvious – which it so was – ‘I don’t have a lot of confidence.’

Nate considered me a moment. ‘In yourself? In your looks? In your sexual experience? What?’

‘Do you know how mortifying this is?’ I scowled at him.

Clearly annoyed, Nate narrowed his eyes at me. ‘I’m not here to make fun of you. I’m here to help you.’

We were quiet again as I gathered together the confidence to be honest. After taking a shaky sip of my beer, I looked at the floor and told him quietly, ‘You already know I lack confidence because of my minimal sexual experience, but … I also just don’t … don’t feel sexually attractive.’

His silence drew my gaze to him. He was looking at me incredulously again.

‘What?’

He put his beer down and planted his palms on the counter like he meant business. ‘Let’s start with how you don’t feel sexually attractive.’

I gulped. ‘All right.’

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

I jerked back at his curse, confused by the angry tone of the question. ‘What?’

‘Get up,’ he replied sharply. ‘Come on, get up.’ He rounded the kitchen counter and walked past me.

I got up slowly, wondering what the hell I’d done wrong.

‘Follow me.’

Follow him … all right. My legs trembled when I realized I was following him into my bedroom. With my heartbeat pulsing in my throat, I was unable to speak as I stopped in my doorway and gazed at him.

He stood before my full-length mirror and gestured to it. ‘Tell me what you see.’

I swallowed past the heartbeat. ‘Nate …’ I took a step back and my movement shot him into action. Lightning-quick, he had hold of me and was tugging me back into the room with him until he’d maneuvered me in front of the mirror, while he stood looking into it over my shoulder.

‘Tell me. Trust me.’

Taking a deep breath, I let my eyes focus on my reflection, sweeping them over my face and then down my body and back to my face again.

‘Liv?’

‘I see … I see an average-looking woman with …’ I shrugged, so embarrassed it wasn’t funny. ‘With fl-flabby arms, a belly pouch, and a fat ass.’

When my answer was met by silence I finally gathered the nerve to look up into the mirror to Nate’s reflection. He was glowering at me again. ‘Anything good?’

I glanced back at my face. My eyes were, as always, the only thing I liked. They were striking eyes, inherited from my dad. Unusual, pale hazel, with so many flecks of gold they appeared golden in a certain light. We both had dark lashes that set the color off. We’d been told on more than one occasion, and by quite a few folks, that our eyes were exotic, almost feline. My dad worked his eyes. They were flinty and perceptive in his ruggedly handsome face. On my average face they were the only thing to enliven my features. ‘My eyes,’ I whispered softly.

‘That’s a given, babe. What else?’

Tense, I searched for an answer and then said carefully, ‘Okay, my skin. I have good skin.’

Nate smiled encouragingly at me. ‘You’ve got gorgeous skin.’ He heaved a beleaguered sigh. ‘Let’s tackle the other stuff.’ I was pretty sure he then muttered under his breath, ‘Crazy fucking women,’ before he took hold of my arm. ‘Where are these flabby arms of yours, then?’

Skin flushing the color of raspberries, I pushed the fat around my triceps.

I was rewarded with a ‘what the eff?’ look from Nate. ‘That’s not flab. It’s skin. Look, you’ve not got any definition, but you’ve also not got flab. Rule number one …’

I nodded at him to go on, my eyes wide, eager to learn.

‘… don’t use the word “flab” around a guy you want to shag. Now, if a guy’s like me he can get past the self-consciousness and decide to think it’s cute, but there are loads of guys out there who don’t think it’s cute. They want a confident woman in their bed. I don’t know if this library guy is one of those guys, so we’ll play it safe. No more flab talk.’

For some reason that really made me want to giggle, but I also wanted Nate to know I was taking this seriously, so I pinched my lips together and nodded.


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