“Talk about how you’re going back to a show that humiliated you and broke your heart?”
“The show didn’t humiliate me or break my heart—Aaron did. With some help from your sister,” I add pointedly.
“I told you, you’ve got that all wrong.”
I throw my arms open wide. “Then explain to me! Because from where I’m standing, things are pretty clear.”
“Honestly, it’s not my business anyway,” he says. “And maybe if you’d stopped the petty sniping you’ve been doing since you met her and actually gotten to know her…”
I flinch and draw back a step. I thought Nate found our little war funny. Itwasfunny—wasn’t it? Cara gave as much back to me as I dished out to her. I push aside the image that pops into my mind of Cara’s face earlier tonight at the bar, her watery expression as she started to spiral.
“She’s been messing with me, too, you know,” I say, half to Nate, half trying to convince myself that I’m not the one in the wrong. “Why else do you think she brought upLovedByjust now? She knew I hadn’t told you and wanted to spark a fight between us. Which, clearly, she succeeded at.”
For a minute, we just stand there, staring at each other, both breathing heavily.
Then Nate draws in a big sigh, and some of the defensiveness in his posture melts away. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. His voice is neutral—not betraying hurt or even anger. He’s normally so expressive, it’s hard to read this lack of emotion as anything other than coldness.
“Didn’t realize we had that kind of relationship,” I say curtly.
Before Nate can say anything in response, the door to the bar opens and a few patrons spill out. Nate and I are blocking their path, so we awkwardly step apart from each other so they can walk between us.
Once they’ve passed, Nate’s eyes flash to mine. Now I can see some fire in them. “Really?” he hisses. “You’re going to be like that, even after last night? Even after we slept—”
“Not here.”
I don’t want to have this conversation in Big Jay’s parking lot, where one of our siblings could appear through that door any minute. I start stalking toward Nate’s truck.
“Guess I’m driving…” he says sarcastically.
The ride is silent. I keep my eyes trained straight ahead, watching through the windshield as a gray light starts to form at the horizon. I didn’t realize how late it was—or rather, how early. The drizzle has started to turn into a full-on rain, and by the time we get home, it’s pouring. We pull down the dirt road, past the house, to Camp Bennet. Nate puts the truck in park, then twists around to reach into the back seat. Wordlessly, he hands me his raincoat. I slip it on and follow him inside.
He ducks into the bathroom and comes out with a towel, giving his hair a rough dry. And for a moment, as his arms are up over his head, I’m suddenly shot back to last night, to the feeling of his hands on my body, the heat between us, right here in this tiny room. That intensity, the way he carried me, the way we moved together.
Jesus.I shake my head slightly, letting off little splatters of rain and trying to collect my thoughts.
The silence stretches, thick and almost tangible, punctuated only by the sound of rain hammering the cabin’s tin roof. I want to fill it with something—anything—but the words get stuck on my tongue. Every instinct is telling me to run, to do anything but admit that I’m spinning out because I wanted something more with Nate than he’s willing to give me.
So instead, I ask something else that’s been on my mind.
“You were with your exforever, huh?”
“Seven years,” he replies.
I stare at him, my mouth hanging open.
“Why is that so shocking?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.
“I just thought you didn’tbelievein long-term.”
He starts pacing across the knotty pine floor. “I said people should be together for ten years before they get married. That pretty much implies that I believe quite firmly in long-term relationships.” He stops walking and whirls to face me. “At least, Idid.”
“Nate, I get that she cheated on you, and that must’ve been horrible. But you’re forgetting that I’ve been through the exact same thing. The difference is, you’ve let it shut you off forever.”
“That’s—that’s not true. It’s made me extremely cautious. I lost that relationship, and it brought up a lot of shit for me, okay? After my mom’s death…”
I suck in a breath. “Nate, I’m sorry, I—”
“And no offense, but it’snotat all the same,” he continues. “I was with Sarah for seven years. You were with Aaron for sevenweeksbefore you got engaged. Not the same fucking thing at all.”
