I wondered why he was sitting here, alone, in a hospital. Why wasn't he with his friends? Why wasn't he in rehearsals with his bandmates? He'd mentioned that one good friend, Gael, his wingman. Why weren't they out having fun together, drinking and partying like the rock stars they were?
But Nathan had said Gaelused to behis wingman. What had changed?
Maybe he was sitting here in a hospital, letting me chatter at him, because he had no one else.
I could understand. It had been hard to keep people in my life as well. The only ones I'd been able to rely on were my parents. They'd done a good job of taking care of me, but I knew it had put stress on their marriage.
The last thing I needed was to get someone else wrapped up in all the turmoil that was my life.
"I'm a little worried about Cleo," Nathan said. "I don't think she's been eating. Her food just sits there in the bowl."
"Do you think something's wrong?" I asked, alarmed.
"I don't know. She doesn't come out when I visit. She just hides. I think maybe I don't have the right food. Or maybe she hates me and refuses to eat anything I put out for her. "
"If Cleo is sick, that might be why she's not eating," I said.
Nathan looked visibly upset at the thought.
"I'm pretty good with animals," I said without thinking. "I can probably coax her out."
He looked at me, surprised. "You want to cat-whisper Cleo?"
Dammit. I had just offered, hadn't I? What happened to my resolve to put this guy behind me?
"I would hate for Cleo to be sick and not know," Nathan said.
I thought carefully, then nodded. I couldn't stand to see the worried look on his face.
"Yeah. Let's go help your cat."
