The humiliation deepened.
“I’m going back to the car.” Nate stood, forcing himself to unclench his fists. Huh. He hadn’t realized he’d clenched them. “I’ll wait ten minutes. If I don’t see you, I’ll assume you’re walking home.”
It was an asshole thing to say, but Nate didn’t feel particularly gentlemanly as he stormed off. Unlike during the hike up, he didn’t slow his stride to keep pace with Kris. By the time he made it to his car, a portion of his anger had burned away, but the humiliation remained. It tasted sharp and bitter in his throat.
Nate was a lot of things, but he was no charity case. His family may not have much money, but the money they did have, they’d earned. He refused to live off other people’s pity.
He ran a hand through his hair and glared at his phone. He’d been sitting here for seven minutes. Three more minutes and he was outta here. Kris could find her own damn way home.
Another minute passed. Then another. And another.
Nate turned on the engine and glanced down the road. Runyon Canyon didn’t have a parking lot, so he’d parked on a street by the main entrance. Other than a woman walking her dog, there was no one else in sight.
Where is she?
“I’m leaving,” Nate said, like Kris could somehow hear him.
Nothing.
“Five more minutes,thenI’m leaving.” He sounded like a crazy person, talking to himself in his car.
It shouldn’t take Kris that long to get to the car. Was she lost? Hurt?
His heart banged against his chest at the thought.
After a vicious inner war, Nate composed a quick text to make sure she was okay. He was still pissed at her, but he wasn’t a monster. He refused to have her death on his conscience.
That’s the only reason I haven’t left yet,he assured himself.
In an uncanny coincidence, his phone pinged with a message from Kris right before he hit send.
Kris: You’ve probably left by now, but just FYI, I ran into a friend and he’s driving me home.
What. The. Fuck.
Nate stared at Kris’s text in disbelief. His earlier anger rushed back, a hundred times fiercer than before. Was she messing with him? What were the odds of her running into a friend in the past hour? Who was thisheshe was talking about?
His molars ground together.
Nate: Fine.
That was the only reply he could muster without blowing up.
Nate maneuvered out of his parking spot and gunned it toward his house, furious for reasons beyond his comprehension.
This was turning out to be the shittiest day ever.
* * *
Nate’s temperdidn’t improve when he arrived home to a barrage of questions from Skylar.
“How was your hike with Kris?” she chirped from her position on the couch, where she was watching oldTom and Jerrycartoons over a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
“Fine.” That seemed to be the only word he was capable of since he’d left Kris sitting at the top of a hill.
Guilt wormed its way into its stomach, but he grabbed it by its neck and shoved the fucker aside. He didn’t have time for guilt. He was too busy being mad—at Kris, at the asshole who supposedly drove her home, and at himself.
Nate exhaled a long sigh at Skylar’s raised eyebrows. “You shouldn’t eat cereal for lunch,” he said in a gentler tone. “There’s leftover lasagna in the fridge.”