“I’m going to help you get Quinn back. This time forever.”
That was about the last thing I expected to hear him say. I quirked an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Really.” Nate shifted, adjusting his back with a wince that made me wonder if he needed a dose of his pain meds. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do when I die?”
“God, Nate.” I scowled. “What the hell kind of question is that?”
“The kind someone who doesn’t have time for bullshitting might ask. I don’t want to play games or beat around the bush, Leo. So tell me what happens for you when I’m dead?”
An unexpected lump rose in my throat. “I’ll be ... devastated, Nate. No matter what’s happened between us over the years, no matter how much I disagree with some of the stuff you’ve pulled, it doesn’t change the fact that you were my first best friend. We were the Trio. I’m going to miss you for the rest of my life.”
Nate stared at me. “I had no idea you ... cared that much. I figured everything that happened with Quinn would change things between you and me.”
“Yeah, well ...” I ran a hand through my hair. “Maybe it did change us. But it doesn’t mean that I want you to die. You’ve done some shit I hate. But I don’t hate you.”
“Good to know.” He pinched the edge of the blanket together and rubbed it between two fingers. “But aside from that ... what I meant was, how do you foresee things going down between you and Quinn?”
This line of questioning was making me very uncomfortable. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”
Nate dropped his head back against the pillows as though I was exhausting him, and hell, maybe I was. But this was a damn uncomfortable conversation we were having right here.
“Stop tiptoeing around my tender feelings, Leo, and answer me. Are you planning to propose to her at my funeral, or maybe wait a few weeks?”
“Jesus Christ!” I jumped to my feet and stalked around the small living room. “No. What do you think of me, man? I’m not considering that. It hasn’t even crossed my mind. If you want me to be completely honest, I don’t have any clear idea of what the future holds for Quinn and me. Once I thought I did. Now ...” I shrugged. “I can’t say. She made a decision that’s pretty much a deal-breaker for me. She made a choice. I’m not going to sit around and wait until the repercussions of that choice are—” I searched for a word that wouldn’t sound cruel. “No longer an issue.”
“So you’re saying that you don’t have feelings for Quinn anymore? You don’t love her?”
Dropping down into the chair again, I ran one hand over my face. “Of course I love her. I’m going to love Quinn until I die. She’s always going to be the one for me, I know that. But it’s starting to feel like we’re never going to be on the same page. Our timing’s always off.”
“Maybe.” He nodded. “Still, you came in here just now, proverbial guns blazing, to blast me if I was going to warn you away from her when I was gone. Doesn’t sound to me like you’re writing her off completely.”
I flicked a glance at him. “Of course I haven’t. This is Quinn and me. But I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do here. She didn’t ask me to wait for her. And even if she did, wouldn’t that be a little awkward? Me, hanging out on the sidelines, waiting for the first-string tight end to get hurt so I could run onto the field?”
“It always comes back to football with you, doesn’t it?” Nate shook his head. “But it’s not a bad analogy. Isn’t that what you do? Wait for your chance to be called into the game? This situation isn’t so different. What I’m suggesting, though, is that you don’t, uh, immediately try to grab the football and make a run for the end zone.”
“Uh huh.” I nodded slowly. “Can you maybe be just a little more specific and a little less derogatory to the girl we both love? Quinn would hate being compared to a football.”
“You’re not wrong.” Nate grimaced. “Okay. Plain talk. No matter how you think you’re going to feel after I’m gone, once it happens, both you and Quinn will be tempted to dive back into a relationship. Or something. I’m going to advise you against that.”
“Yeah, I just bet you are.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.
“Leo, come on. I don’t have an ax to grind here. Dead, remember?” He hooked a thumb at his own chest. “I’m not an idiot. I know that once I’m off-planet, I have zero influence and zero expectations. I’m not going to know. Maybe I won’t even care. But right now, I do. I care about Quinn and her future.”
“And you think I don’t?”
Nate’s mouth pressed into a firm line. “Of course you do, but you’re too close to the whole thing to see it clearly.”
“But you’re not.” Yeah, I was skeptical.
“Are you kidding? I’ve had a front-row center life-long season ticket to the Quinn-and-Leo show. No one’s more of an expert on you two than me. And I’m telling you, if you go after her right away and end up together again ... it might work. It might last, but the chances aren’t good, because neither of you have dealt with what always tears you apart.”
“But you know what that is, and you’re going to tell me how to deal with it?”
Nate remained unflappable. “Yes, as a matter of fact I think I can.” Bracing both hands on either side of his body, he pushed to sit up a little. I could see the effort cost him, as sweat broke out on his upper lip. But he ignored it and pushed on.
“See, there’re two things, Leo. The first one really isn’t your fault, but you still have the power to change it.” He fiddled with a string on the edge of the blanket. “Quinn has never had a chance to know who she is without you or me. Think about it. Even when we were born, it was me first, then you, and then Quinn. We’ve been with her as long as she can remember. When I’m gone, she’ll have the opportunity to find out who she really is ... if you let her do that.”
“You mean she can find herself?” The air quotes were implied by my sarcasm.
