DJ looks Nate up and down and smirks again.

“What do you want me to do, Julianne?” Nate asks softly.

DJ smirks. “Gotta ask your girlfriend for permission, pussy?”

“Kick his ass, Nate.”

“Thought you’d never ask, baby.”

Nate takes a step back, releasing DJ, and turns his back on him, and I know what his strategy is: let DJ take the first shot.

Nate is not disappointed.

DJ grabs Nate’s shoulder and pulls him around to face him and punches him, square in the jaw, Blood spatters from the corner of Nate’s mouth.

“What do you think of that, asshole?” DJ sneers.

“I think you have a pathetic right hook, moron.”

Nate punches DJ twice, once in the nose, then in the gut, sending DJ to the ground, but the other man is stupid and gets back up, swinging. Nate weaves out of the way and counters with another right hook to the jaw, then grips DJ’s shoulders and pulls him down against his knee, right to the gut and throws him to the ground again.

“Stay down,” Nate growls.

“Fuck you!” DJ stands again, more shaky this time, and rubs his stomach. He lunges for Nate again, fists flying, but Nate crouches and catches DJ around his torso and lifts him, slamming him against the wall with his strong shoulder, and drops DJ to the ground again.

Holy fuck! I knew Nate was strong, but seeing him, like this, is just amazing. Not only could he really hurt someone, he could kill someone.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay down, motherfucker.”

DJ wheezes and coughs, wincing in pain. I’m sure his ribs are bruised, if not broken. He gets up to his knees, and Luke speaks for the first time.

“Are you learning impaired, dude? Stay the fuck down before he puts you in the hospital.”

DJ is clearly embarrassed as he falls back to the ground, sits on his ass and winces again. A small crowd has gathered to watch the show, mumbling and laughing at DJ.  He looks up at me and glares.

“I should have beat the shit out of you when I had the chance. You’re nothing but a fucking whore anyway.”

Nate rears back to kick DJ in the face, but I yell, “Don’t!”

He stops and whirls on me, his eyes raw with rage. “What?”

I shake my head and look back down at DJ.  I offer him a sweet, fake smile, walk sassily over to him, and squat in my heels so I’m close to him.

“You tried to kick my ass, remember, DJ? And I beat you bloody. I’m pretty sure that nice scar there by your left eye is thanks to me.”

I stand and walk away from him and he calls out, “Cunt whore!”

“Do it,” I mutter to Nate as I walk past him, and I hear DJ’s low grunt, then his head hitting the pavement, when Nate punches him one last time in the face, knocking him out.

***

“Well, one thing I will say about our nights out, it’s never boring.”  Natalie turns around in the passenger seat of their Mercedes and looks back at Nate and me.

“No, never boring,” I murmur and kiss Nate’s bruised and swollen knuckles. “Are you okay?” I ask him.

“I’m fine,” he mutters. He won’t look me in the face, and aside from me touching him, he’s hardly laid a hand on me.

Luke pulls into my driveway and Nate and I get out of the backseat. I lean in Nat’s window and kiss her cheek.  “Kiss Livie for me. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Bye, Nate. You kick major ass.” She winks at him, Luke waves at us both, and they pull out of the driveway.

“Let’s go in.” I walk toward the front porch, but Nate runs a hand through his hair and stands still.

“Maybe I should just go back to the condo tonight.”

“What?” I turn back to him, confused and a little scared. “Why?”

He shakes his head and looks at his feet. “You said yourself that one night apart won’t kill us.”

I’m completely thrown. This cold, distant man is not my Nate.

“I don’t want to sleep without you,” I whisper and my stomach rolls when he winces and turns away from me.

“Look, Nate, I’m sorry about DJ…” Nate whirls back to me, his gray eyes angry and face taut.

“Don’t you apologize for that motherfucker, Julianne.”

“Okay.” I step back and fold my arms over my chest. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what’s wrong.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Okay,” I repeat and lick my lips nervously. “So why are you punishing me?” I ask quietly.

Nate hangs his head, plants his hands on his hips and takes a deep breath. “That’s not what I’m trying to do.”

“Talk to me, Nate.”

“I’m fucking pissed, Jules. Beyond pissed. I wanted to keep punching him, over and over, until he was a bloody pulp. I have too much adrenaline and anger running through me right now to trust myself to not hurt you. I would never intentionally hurt you, but I’m not feeling gentle.” He pushes his fingers through his hair roughly and paces away in frustration.

“Don’t run away from me,” I throw his words back at him. His back is to me, he’s gazing down my dark driveway. “You won’t let me run, well back at you, ace. If you’re pissed, fine. If you’re frustrated, fine. But you’ll be those things with me, not while running away from me.”

We stand like this for what feels like long minutes, but it may only be seconds.

Finally, I hear his low voice. “Why did you ever let that idiot near you?”

“Fuck,” I mutter and rub my forehead.

“Seriously, Julianne, I don’t get it.” He turns around and stares at me, his eyes unreadable.

“Nate it was years ago. Years.”

“And?” he raises an eyebrow.

“I used to go to the gym he works at. He was – probably still is – a trainer. I was young and stupid enough to think he was cute. We went out on two dates, Nate, I had sex with him one time, and he went stalker crazy on my ass. I told him I wasn’t interested in seeing him again, he raised a fist, and I knocked a couple of those pretty teeth out.”

I walk to Nate and reach out to touch him, but he backs away from me.

“Stop this,” I whisper.

“You don’t understand. It makes me sick that he ever touched you.” He runs his hands through his hair again and looks up toward the sky and then back at me. “I know that you weren’t innocent when I met you, but I don’t ever need to meet anyone that has been inside you. Even if he hadn’t been an asshole, I still would have wanted to kick his ass.”