Letting Nathan Campbell’s mood determine my life made sense when I was twelve.
But not anymore.
Nat and I are both adults. I saw him with Layla and yes, I can easily bring it up. We can have a conversation about it, and he can even assure me that it’s not what I imagined. But for what purpose?
I have no reason to interrogate him about who he spends his time with, and he has no reason to disclose that information, even if I ask. It would be a pointless exercise in this confusing, pseudo-sibling-but-not-really relationship that we seem to be forming.
“Are you angry in general or are you angry with me?” Nat asks, his voice still and sober. It almost sounds like the thought bothers him.
Maybe it does. Nat has always cared deeply about other people’s feelings and would often turn himself into the group clown, going so far as to insult himself, in order to drag out a few laughs and uplift the mood.
It doesn’t mean anything more.
It’s just his personality and I have to accept that at face value.
My feelings for Nat are embedded in my brain. That little blob in my skull is on the hunt for reasons to prove that my brother’s best friend likes me. I can very easily misconstrue his friendliness for romantic interest because, at the end of the day, it’s what the twelve-year-old Riley and the adult Riley wants.
But I can no longer make my feelings for Nathan Campbell become my entire world. I’m an adult with my own interests, my own thoughts and my own need for self preservation.
To save myself and my heart, I have to draw the line with Nat.
Chapter Twenty-Four
NATHAN
The meeting with Layla not only failed spectacularly, it made things much,muchworse. It would have been a relief to end things there but, instead, I had to march down to the stadium where Chance McLanely was anxiously waiting for an update.
I cannot emphasize how humbling it is to look your favorite hockey player in the eye and inform him that you dropped the ball and then picked it back up only for it to blow up in your face.
“I guess I’ll have to downgrade the proposal,”McLanely said worriedly.“Better to just pop the question than risk the surprise getting out.”
“No, don’t do that.”
“But that podcaster is a loose cannon. Who knows what she’ll do next?”
“I promise you I’ll do everything I can to keep an eye on Layla. I won’t let her out of my sight until your proposal is complete.”
McLanely tried to talk me out of it, but I held firm. I’m now invested in his proposal going off without a hitch.
However, sticking around Layla is the equivalent of hugging a cactus, and I can’t imagine how painful it’ll be to stay close to my ex.
After that, training started and it was all I could do to keep focused. My body was on the ice, but my mind was downtown in an old mechanic shop, next to Riley.
I ached to see her again. To talk to her. Just a short conversation about the weather, ice cream, her shop, the future—anything.
Being around her energizes me and makes the impossible feel like a cake walk. It’s why I took the chance to show up at her garage without calling first. I wanted to tell her about Layla, update her on why I’ll be hanging around my ex in the near future, and beg her to join me and keep me sane.
“I would rather not,” Riley says.
Her voice slams into me so hard that if she were on skates, I’d be a pancake against the boards.
The smile freezes on my face. In situations like these, I’m usually quick with a joke or a line that’ll ease the tension.
My mind is blank.
Panic kicks in.
I suddenly can’t swallow.
