“Suddenly, I was furious about everything, but above all, about what happened.”
“You mean the accident.”
My jaw tightened. “It wasn’t an accident. If he’d done his job?—”
“He didn’t do it on purpose. Yes, he should’ve checked to make sure the gun was empty, and he didn’t. That was one hundred percent his fault. But he didn’t do it with the aim of hurting anyone. He fucked up, but there was no malicious intent.”
I knew that. Deep down, I knew that, but it was so goddamn hard to not be able to be angry at anyone. I needed someone to blame, to be responsible ’cause it sure as fuck hadn’t been me.
“It would make things so much easier if he’d done it on purpose, wouldn’t it? Because then, you’d have somewhere to go with your anger. You’d be able to stay mad with him and not have to face the fact that life isn’t fair and that sometimes, bad things happen to good people.”
“I fuckin’ hate you sometimes.”
“That’s okay, bud, because I don’t always like you either. Besides, you know I’m right.”
He was, but that didn’t make it easier to swallow. “Have you always been this much of a self-righteous son of a bitch, or is that something new?”
Nash grinned. “Nah, nothing new. You just never minded before ’cause I was calling others out on their bullshit. Not quite so easy when you’re the one in my crosshairs.”
“No kidding.”
We were quiet for a while, Nash painting the next cabinet door and me sitting there, thinking till my head hurt. “I really like him,” I finally said.
“I can tell. You’re letting your guard down with him. That’s special.”
“It can’t go anywhere, though. I’m a hot mess, and starting anything right now would be the worst decision ever. He deserves better than me. And I don’t mean my leg ’cause obviously, with him, that wouldn’t be an issue, but everything else. He shouldn’t have to worry about his…date falling apart in some dirty restroom stall. What he needs is a man who’s got his shit together, someone with a job and a clear path for the future.”
Nash calmly kept moving the brush up and down, up and down, in an almost soothing rhythm. “You know what that sounds like to me? Like a man who’s trying to convince himself. You’re not fooling me, Creek, and I doubt you even believe yourself.”
“I’ve never even seriously dated before. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing here, which is all but a guarantee I’m gonna fuck it up.”
“So you’re never gonna date? Ever? Because unless you start dating, you’ll never get experience in it. Also, aren’t you a little ahead of yourself here? How about you take it one step at a time and see where things go? Who knows, maybe you’ll suck at gay sex so badly Heath will go running in the other direction.”
I snorted. “I’ve never failed at anything I’ve set my mind to, and you damn well know it. If I decide I want to have sex with him, it’s gonna be great sex, okay? Mind-blowing sex.”
Nash laughed so hard he had to stop painting, and only then did it hit me how incredibly stupid that had sounded.
“Mind-blowing sex?” Nash said between bouts of laughter. “You’d better come talk to me first, bud, so I can give you some pointers. The anatomy is quite different, you know.”
“If and when I need advice on gay sex, I’ll make sure to ask someone else.” Then I frowned. “I mean, it can’t be that complicated. Sure, the technical details are a little different, but it’s still the same principle. Tab A, slot B?”
Nash howled with laughter. “Jesus, boy, it’s a miracle you’re still single, what with all that romantic talk. Tab A, slot B… Lord Almighty, don’t ever say that in front of Heath. He’ll tear you a new slot B, I guarantee you.”
I laughed sheepishly. “Okay, maybe not the best way to put it, but am I wrong?”
Nash held up his hands. “I’m not answering that. Hell, I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole.”
All joking aside, he wasn’t wrong that I was maybe counting my chickens before they hatched. Or as Hans, a Dutch sergeant we’d worked with on a peace mission, liked to tell us: don’t sell the hide before you’ve shot the bear. I never understood where the Dutch got that expression, as I was pretty sure there were no bears in the Netherlands, but whatever. They had sailed all across the world in their golden days, so maybe they’d run into some bears along the way. Who knew?
The point was that I was coming up with all these excuses for why things with Heath would never work when I wasn’t even sure he wanted to date me in the first place. Nash was right. As much as I hated to admit it, I was way ahead of myself…and maybe self-sabotaging. I could add that to the long and ever-growing list of ways in which I was fucked up.
I took a deep breath. “I haven’t talked to him since. We have PT later today, but I’m not sure what to say. Should I apologize?”
Nash considered that, frowning. “I don’t see why. You did nothing wrong. Whether it was a panic attack, an emotional breakdown, or whatever, it wasn’t your fault. I’d save your apologies for when you truly fuck up. Which you will, at some point, trust me.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence there, Sarge.”
“Anytime.”
