"You want me to be Nate?"

"No, you're obviously him because I've heard that line before."

"Want to join the party?" I lift up my beer.

"No, thanks, I'm going home." Her breath mists in the cool night, circling around her head.

"How was your evening?" A man with a dog heads from the direction Fleur came from and she snaps her head around, moving closer to me when she hears the footsteps. "You sure you're okay?"

She pulls her cardigan closer around herself. "Tired."

Disappointment sinks into my stomach to join the beer swirling around. Tired after her physical exertions with Shaun? I can't blame him, she's f.u.c.king s.e.xy in that dress, skimming her knees and moulding around her curves.

Has that douche had his mouth hers? Or on any other part of Fleur?

s.h.i.t, stop thinking about her naked.

"He didn't kick you out straight after, did he?" I ask.

"No! And since when is what I do your business?"

Whoa. "Never mind. Just saw you and him, that's all." Fleur makes a derisive noise. "What?"

"At least you were upfront about what you wanted from me after the gig the other night." She draws a deep breath. "I can't believe I was stupid to trust him, or believe he liked me. b.l.o.o.d.y men." I look away when she wraps her arms defensively around her chest.

"What happened?"

She ignores me and continues, "I thought guys who are charming and polite were decent people; when in reality, they're the same as you."

"Same as me?"

"Sleazy."

"Ouch. And I'm not sleazy, I sent you flowers."

"Yes. Why did you?"

"To apologise for being sleazy." I manage to elicit a small smile from Fleur. "And to thank you. I got seventy-two percent on my paper."

"Go you," she mutters.

"Hey, no, it was because of you. Thanks." I pause and take a deep breath. "Shame I'm persona non grata these days."

Fleur stares. Then laughs. "You both know big words? Impressive. You really are the same. You and him."

Anger flares in my blood. "No. I'm not. I'm presuming from what you said he forced himself on you. I never do that. Ever." I don't need to; I have plenty of options, but best I don't say that.

"Yes, like I said, at least you were upfront about wanting to f.u.c.k me." She spits the word f.u.c.k and confirms my fear. This guy touched Fleur. Tried to do things she didn't want. I scan her clothes. How far did he go?

"That wasn't me," I say.

"Don't tell me, you're a different guy when you're drunk?" she says and pulls a sarcastic face.

"Ha. You have no idea."

Is now the time to tell her?

"I've seen the pictures. You and your brother were quite the story a few months back." She chews a nail. "I still hear stories about you."

"Both of us?"

"Mostly you, Nate. You must have better moves than your brother."

I laugh. Loudly. "I thought you hated him?"

"That's a strong word. I dislike you both."

I take a bottle from the wall next to me. Empty. Picking at the label, I mentally bang my head against the wall over the whole f.u.c.king 'being Nate' situation. Fleur hovers close and rubs her arms. Is she that freaked out she'd rather spend time in the cold, talking to a guy she told to p.i.s.s off the other day?

"I take it from that comment it's still a no to me coming back to the study group?" I ask. "I really need you; look at what your help did for me. I mean...seventy-two percent."

Fleur shakes her head and looks around at the sound of a bus approaching the nearby stop. "I have to go."

As Fleur runs to catch the empty bus, I catch up and climb up the steps after her. When Fleur scans her Oyster card, she looks around in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you get home okay."

The bus lurches away and she catches hold of a nearby seat. "I'm capable. I don't need carrying home like last time."

I grip a nearby seat too. "Must be my alpha protective streak, then."

Now we're in the light, Fleur's big pupils and pale face betray what's beneath her bravado. "You don't need to look after me."

"I know. I want to."

She sits and looks up at me, brow tugged. I want to ask her what happened. Punch the a.r.s.ehole in the face. The anger rises at the idea somebody hurt her and my mind flashes with an image of what I'll do if he has a.s.saulted her. If he's messed her up, I'll reward him with the same.

"You're not coming into my house," she says.

"All good." As I sit on the seat next to her, she scowls and shifts away from me. Fleur's hands shake and she tucks them beneath her arms. "Am I making you nervous?"

"No. It's not you."

I swallow down the anger. "What did he do?"

"Not as much as he wanted. Leave it."

"Did he...?"

"No! Just shut up, Nate!"

I hate Nate even more for his words about wanting to f.u.c.k her. Anything I say to Fleur now won't wash, as far as she's concerned my treatment of chicks matches Shaun's. "b.l.o.o.d.y men."

She scoffs. "Yeah. b.l.o.o.d.y men."

Whatever happened between her and Shaun must be bad because Fleur hasn't told me to p.i.s.s off. If the guy she's refused to talk to several days ago is allowed anywhere near her, something is wrong.

20.

FLEUR.

When I arrive for the study session on Monday, Nate sits on a table outside, lounging back as he focuses on his phone. I want to be p.i.s.sed off with him, but his behaviour after the Shaun incident pushes at my barrier. Ironic that the guy I thought was a douche was more respectful than the so-called nice guy.

This man confuses me. Which Nate is he? The one who wants to f.u.c.k me or the one who wants to hold my hand? His jacket is folded next to him and I gaze again at the tattoos. How much would that hurt?

Sure, I'm increasingly aware how attractive this man is, even with the tattoos and piercings. Nate's wiry frame is muscled in all the right places; his infectious smile sharpens his perfect cheekbones. Yep, with the twins, G.o.d made two men built to break hearts in one go.

But that's not the only attractive thing about Nate. His easygoing att.i.tude to the world around draws people in, his open and honest nature holding them to him. Nate fills the room with a bright positivity and he uses this to his advantage.

Nate Campbell gets what he wants from people, and he's aware.

Well, he's not getting what he wants from me. His actions at the weekend in accompanying me home warm me to him, but I'm not stupid. The Nate who drunkenly admitted he wanted to f.u.c.k me is still in there. Sure, this weekend he escorted me to my front door and headed into the night without any suggestion he could follow me into the house. Very n.o.ble. But not the real him.

After my experiences with Shaun and Ethan, I doubt every man's motives, especially a guy with a track record like his.

Nate looks up and worry flickers across his face before he pulls back on the cool. "Hey, Fleur."

"Hey." He tries one of his cheekiest grins on me and I fight smiling back. "Thanks for the help the other night."

"No problem. Since I helped, will you talk to me now? About what happened after the gig the other night."

"I'm busy for the next hour. Group, remember?"

"The one I'm not allowed in?"

"Yes."

Settling back, Nate places his boots on the table, and rests against the wall. "Still? Okay, I'll wait here then."

"What for?"

"There's something I need to tell you and I want to explain. Now you're talking to me, I'm trying again."

"Okay, I have five minutes before anybody else arrives, tell me."

Nate rubs a hand down the length of his face. "Might take longer than five minutes."

"Nate. Don't worry about what you said; I was stupid to expect anything else from someone like you. But you have to understand that I don't have time for men who disrespect women."

"I don't disrespect " I interrupt him with a scoff. "s.h.i.t, Fleur. Please. I really need to talk to you. The other night "

"Hey! Is the rock star allowed back in the group?" Sam heads down the corridor towards us and handclaps Nate. "Dude! Welcome back!"

"He's not back," I retort.

"Miss won't let me back," says Nate and I grit my teeth at his teasing.

Refusing to respond, I leave Sam and Nate to their discussion about Nate's music. The smug feeling I'm pursued by a rock star follows me into the room.

True to his word, Nate remains on the table outside, lying with his jacket propped under his head. He holds his phone in the air above his face, earbuds in as he taps his boot against the desk. The gap between his t-shirt and jeans reveals abs harder than I expected and a large wings and heart tattoo emerging from the waistband of his jeans. As I wonder how far down his tattoos go, Nate turns his head. I look away but his expression tells me that he knows I was checking him out.

Nate pulls an earbud out and sits up, switching on the smile that n.o.body can ever resist responding to with one of their own.

"You were serious about waiting," I say.

"Deadly." He swings his legs around and indicates the window behind him to the left. "I can be your escort through the wilds again."

"Very n.o.ble, but I'm fine crossing campus on my own."

He crosses his arms. "Can we have that chat now? Please." He elongates the word please then pouts.

"Jesus, you're persistent, Nate."

"Because this is important to me," he says in a low voice. "You're important to me."

"I'm not falling for that look again, Nate." Nate blinks and I swear hurt flickers across his face. "Alright. Somewhere public."

"Union? We can have a drink too." He grins.

"Your natural environment?"

"Too right!"

We head across campus, silently, Nate's hands buried in his pockets and head down humming to himself. "I never asked, what you thought of the band the other night?" he asks.

"I prefer Taylor Swift."

Nate splutters. "Right. You won't be buying the new Ruby Riot alb.u.m?"