I laugh at his muffled reply and carry both plates over to the sink and flip the faucet on.

“What did Taylor want?” Nate asks, my back to him. There’s a tepid mix of confusion and suspicion in his voice.

I fumble for what to say. I thought I was in the clear. “Nothing. Just...to apologize for getting me dropped from the program.”

His eyebrows go up and then he snorts a laugh. “Apologize? Taylor? It must have been condescending as fuck, huh?”

Shit. I said the wrong thing. But I couldn’t think of anything else off the top of my head.

I glance back at him but avoid his eyes. “No, it was pretty genuine, I think.”

“Weird.” He shrugs and licks salt from his fingers, and I’m jealous for a second. “Doesn’t sound like her at all.”

“What do you mean?” I ask drily, trying to not show how much the answer means to me.

“I don’t know,” Nate says, getting up from the table. “Last time I checked she wasn’t exactly the apologetic type.”

He drops the drinking glasses we used into the sink. I want to press on, I want to know more of what he means by that, but when I reach for the dish soap, he slips his arms around my waist, his chest hard against my back, and all the tension drains from me in an instant.

“Let me handle these,” he whispers in my ear.

My lips curve when I feel his mouth press into the back of my neck. “Really?”

“And as soon as I’m done, we’re gonna pick up where we left off.” He sounds playful, happy. I love it when he’s like this. It makes me feel like everything’s going to be okay, even when I know it’s only wishful thinking.

“Okay.” I smile and turn for the couch, but Nate calls me again.

“Babe, charge my phone?”

“Sure.” I grab it from the table and set it in the charging stand on my desk.

Plopping down on the couch, I watch Nate as he washes the dishes for a minute. I flip the TV on, trying to distract myself, but I can’t stop thinking about that damn phone. After a few minutes I can’t take it anymore. I give in, send Taylor’s contact to my phone and then take it with me into the bathroom, shut the door, run the faucet. I’m going to call her. Just to see what she says.

The phone starts to ring, and my heart jumps. I can’t believe I am going to ask her for the money, but right now I’m low on options.

She answers right away, but she isn’t talking to me when she speaks. “I need to see Dr. Burgess, stat.”