Yeah. Nate and his b.l.o.o.d.y 'yeah'.

"Obviously we've spent the last couple of years with different views on what happened."

"Looks like it." He picks up green plastic houses and slings them into the box.

"And there's what you said about me," I continue.

Nate looks up from the box. "Said what? To who?"

"Jax. Will. I don't know what you told them, but the whispering and sn.i.g.g.e.ring didn't go unnoticed. I bet you embellished the story." I s.n.a.t.c.h the playing pieces from the board and throw them into the box on top of the houses.

"I've never told anybody what happened between us!"

"What didn't happen, you mean. Scared I'd ruin your reputation?"

"No, scared I'd ruin yours!" Nate snaps back.

"What?"

"Doesn't matter." He picks up his empty gla.s.s. "You win."

I stare at the board covered in Monopoly money as Nate walks to the bar. I win? The game? Or the long game we've played?

"Do you know how f.u.c.king awesome it is being locked in a pub for a couple of days?" he calls. Nate fills his gla.s.s from a half-empty bottle. "George is a top bloke. He gave me open access to anything, rocks to be rich, huh?"

I recognise his tactic, one I use myself. Change the subject and lead someone elsewhere. "What do you mean, Nate?"

"That I won't run out of something to drink."

"No. About Paris."

"Screw it, you have the bed. I'll sit here and have a drink." He rests his elbows on the bar. "Then when the lovebirds head to bed, I'll sleep on the sofa."

I walk over and put my drink on the bar opposite. "You have one too, then?"

"Yeah. Cheers." Nate lifts up his gla.s.s.

"Not a drink; a switch." He tugs his brows together. "In your head. I have one. Flick it the right way and you don't need to think or talk about what you don't want."

"They're useful."

"Are they? Recently, I've started to wonder."

Nate rubs his fingers across his lips and in our exchanged look, I see more of Nate than I ever have since that day he laid himself bare. "So have I, Riley."

Our time in Paris I struggle to forget wasn't filled with lies. Hurt, immaturity and misunderstanding, but no lies.

12.

RILEY.

I sleep fitfully, awake at every creak, on alert for Nate carrying out his threat and climbing into bed with me. I wouldn't put it past him to annoy me out of bed by climbing in and teasing me.

He doesn't.

The last conversation we had cycles in my head as I drift to sleep. Nate apologised. Nate Campbell never apologises because Nate Campbell is never wrong. I'm not big on admitting when I'm wrong either; this is a big deal for Nate.

His comment about my reputation came out of the blue and I almost shot back that he's lying, but something in the way he looked at me told me he wasn't. His following sudden switch in topic is a tactic I also share. Underlying all this, we understand each other, and that vulnerability doesn't help.

His explanation about Paris confuses me. I honestly thought he knew what he'd done with the girl that night I refused him s.e.x and Nate behaved like that to punish me somehow. Does the truth change my mind about him? A little, but not enough. All the hurtful things said and done can't be wiped out by one conversation even if it did include an apology. Whatever he says, a big part of the c.r.a.p that happened between us is because I refused to screw him that night. Why else would he have thrown himself back into other girls? What did I expect? We'd never have worked out back then. We were different people; immature and coping with the world in our own ways. A way that doesn't include the maturity for proper communication, obviously.

Josh is more demanding when I speak to him this morning, asking when I'll be home. Outside, the sun shines and the grey clouds have shifted, but the snow hasn't. Josh doesn't accept "I don't know" from me because the times I usually use that excuse are the times I need to lie about where I am.

Josh hates when I'm away, and the guilt I carry at those times eats at me. Is this why he's difficult? Because I left him alone too much as a baby? I promised Josh I wouldn't go away longer than overnight again, and two days in Newcastle was already too long. The absence has stretched into a fourth day now, including the original trip. Mum, as always, takes the situation in her stride. Without her, I'd be a mess.

A bigger mess.

George and Val are downstairs when I head down for something to eat, and I hear them arguing. As I walk into the kitchen, they stop and Val immediately offers me a cup of tea from the pot stewing on the table between them.

"Any news?" I ask as I sit at the round table.

"George spoke to Peter in the village. They're hoping the ploughs can get through to them today, but it's unlikely they'll reach us."

I lower myself onto a dining chair, frustrated tears gathering. "Okay."

"Now the snow's stopped, we can dig out a bit further, love," says George, "Get some fresh air."

"I'll help."

"Nah, us lads will organise that. You can help Val with dinner and clear up a bit."

I blink at his s.e.xism; normally I'd retort, but this man has been good to me. "Right. I'm not a great cook though."

The door to the lounge opens and Nate stands with a blanket scrunched in his arms, the same as yesterday morning. "If you're looking for something to do, Riley, I need my clothes washed."

"What?"

"I only have one set. Spilled beer on myself last night."

I scowl. "How are you supposed to dig snow naked?"

"I have the clothes George lent me. Probably warmer than these anyway." He pulls at his thin black T-shirt. "I'd do it myself but I have no idea how to use a washing machine." He pulls a sad puppy dog look on Val who smiles up at him.

I have choice words for Nate but swallow them.

"Sure, love. Don't worry, Riley, I'll organise some laundry. I need to roast some meat today before it goes off. You can help me make a big meal for when the lads are finished up."

My planned day of work evaporates and so does my patience at the wide grin on Nate's face. "I'll look forward to Riley cooking for me. She owes me."

"What for?"

"Another s.h.i.t night's sleep." He catches Val's eyes. "Sorry, Val."

"I've asked you to watch your language."

Twenty years working in pubs and she's offended by bad language? And what's with Nate's sudden ability to apologise?

Nate heads past and pauses when he reaches me. "f.u.c.k this. Tonight I'm in the bed. Up to you whether you're in there with me," he says in a low voice.

I stare ahead and don't answer. If only he knew, my traitorous body already imagined him in there with me last night.

NATE.

Digging snow is b.l.o.o.d.y hard work but makes up for the lack of workouts over the last few days. Doesn't help I had another c.r.a.p night's sleep on the sofa.

I meant what I told Riley. I am not sleeping on that s.h.i.tty velour, too-short sofa again. I tried the floor at one point and that was worse. Funny, because I spent a lot of nights crashed on people's sofas and floors. Yeah, part of this is me p.i.s.sed off Riley has taken the superior route again and won.

Riley's face every time I tell her I'm climbing into bed with her is f.u.c.king priceless - haughty offence with a hint of something else. A secret desire to screw me that's less secret every day? Does she still look the same? I never saw her totally naked, but enough. If I could persuade Riley out of her clothes that would be the ultimate victory. h.e.l.l, I bet s.e.x would be intense; no way would she be a lie back and take it girl. Not with me anyway; I've had an indication of that in the past even if we never finished.

With my head full of s.e.x with Riley, I dig snow all morning. Between George, Jason, and me, we cut a path in the direction of the road. In need of a break, I push snow from George's car bonnet and sit, wiping perspiration from my face with the back of one hand. As a kid, I loved snowy winters, but I hate this quiet, white landscape that traps me. George reckons we'll be out tomorrow and I b.l.o.o.d.y hope so. Thankfully phone reception isn't affected; I've chatted to Will a couple of times, and he thinks the whole situation is hilarious, voicing envy over where I'm locked in.

The novelty of the pub situation wears thin, there's f.u.c.k all to do here apart from talk, drink, and play board games. This isn't an activity I indulge in anymore, but I remember how to play.

I wish I'd kept my drunk mouth shut around Riley. What the h.e.l.l was I thinking blabbering about the past again?

Becca appears outside, enthusing about the fresh air as she crosses to Jason and greets him with a beer and a kiss that quickly switches from friendly to pa.s.sionate. Jason spills his beer and I smile to myself. Uh huh. Totally saw that coming.

Riley stands in the pub doorway. When she has her mouth shut, this girl is a world away from the one I know. Dressed down again, there's something seriously s.e.xy about her natural look. I don't see most chicks I date without make-up on; Sophia was so insecure about herself, she'd climb out of bed and layer her face before I woke up.

The last couple of days are the first I've seen Riley out of professional mode and dress. She isn't Smiley Riley in this persona; she's out of her comfort zone and so am I.

"Where's mine?" I call to her.

"Your what?"

I beckon Riley with one finger and she doesn't move. "Come here."

"What do you want, Nate?"

"Same as him." I point at Jason who rests on the other car with Becca sitting next to him. Jason holds his gla.s.s up in salute. "I've slaved all morning, least you could do."

I'm surprised when a couple of minutes later, Riley reappears with a pint gla.s.s in her hand. I take it, and her warm fingers brush mine.

"And a kiss," I say in a loud voice.

"Nate," she warns in a lower one.

I take several gulps from the beer. "What? He got one from Becca."

"I don't think Jason would be happy if Becca kisses you," she retorts.

Are her pink cheeks from the cold or is she having the same memory as me?

"I didn't mean Becca, and you know it." I jump down. Riley steps back and glances at the gla.s.s in my hand.

"The beer is all you're getting."

I pucker my lips and Riley's eyes narrow as Becca giggles. "Dare you," I whisper.

"Really?"

Riley moves closer and our bodies almost touch. Unreadable eyes meet mine for a second, and then her breath brushes my lips. In the pa.s.sing moment, I'm engulfed by a sudden need to put my mouth on hers, but I hold back.

"Do it." My lips are a whisper from touching hers.

Her coat rustles as she shifts. Her breath against my ear, she whispers, "Screw you, Nate Campbell."

Riley steps away and turns back to the pub. I laugh and pull my backside onto the car again. Jason and Becca look between us.

"You're welcome to do that anytime you like, Riley," I call after her.

My response is her middle finger.

Every time she says no, my determination to hear yes increases.

The worrying part of this is I don't want just to screw her. I want to kiss her.

13.

RILEY.