I blinked. “Good?”
“Yeah.” He took a drink. “Wanted to see if your head was still attached.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Professionally.”
I dragged a hand down my face, remembered there was no beard there, and hated the world all over again.
Nate’s mouth curved. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t think you’d do it.”
“Then why say it?”
“Because you needed to hear yourself say why you wouldn’t.”
I stared at him.
He smiled. “I’m deep now. Mexico changed me.”
“I liked you better shallow.”
“No, you didn’t.”
No.
I didn’t.
Nate looked toward Destiny again, but this time his expression was softer.
“She’s going to be eighteen in four days,” he said.
“That doesn’t magically fix anything.”
“I know.”
“She’ll still be healing.”
“I know.”
“She’ll still be Edge’s daughter.”
“That one’s permanent.”
“She’ll still be leaving one fire and stepping into another.”
“Probably.”
“And I’m still me.”
Nate tapped his bottle against mine lightly. “That might be the biggest problem.”
I swallowed the rest of my answer.
Because he was right.
Destiny wasn’t the only trouble here.
I was.
