Nate’s eyes dart to the screaming burner who still has me in his grip, then to the burner he sent flying into the countertop—who’s now regaining his footing. 30 I’m sure Nate’s coming up with a plan in his head, one that will end in him rising to the occasion as my knight in shining armor. It looks like he’s about to charge at the burner staggering toward him, but he doesn’t. Instead, Nate runs . . . right out the front door.
NO HE DID NOT
