“Please tell me,” I say.
“It’s nothing. I promise it’s nothing.”
I don’t want to push—I’m learning that behind Nathan’s cheerful, charismatic exterior, is a man who is deeply private about some things. I still don’t know what happened to his dad, other than that he left.
Nathan comes around to the other side of the bed and lays down, stretching his long body out and sighing deeply.
“Why don’t you tell me about what you think happened between us the first time we met?” he asks. “I told you I’d ask you in the car. I don’t know if you remember but?—”
“I remember,” I say, my heart sinking, because this is the worst possible moment to tell him. “But I don’t want to tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to make you more upset.”
“I’m not upset.”
“God, could you admit you’re in a bad mood for like one second?” I ask, shaking my head. “I know it doesn’t fit in with your usual easy-going personality, but it’s okay. It’s just me. The Viper, remember? I won’t care if you’re upset. I can handle it.”
Nathan crosses his arms and glares at me, which makes me laugh. He looks like a petulant little kid.
“Fine,” he says. “My brothers and I were drinking and we got to talking about our feelings, which is never a good combination. I’m not in the best mood.”
“There,” I say. “That wasn’t so hard.”
“Whatever,” he says. “But now you have to tell me.”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. But you asked for it.” I take a deep breath, and then begin. “I know the way you remember it, I ignored you all night. But I was actually really excited to meet you. Back then, before my grandparents died, I wanted to start working with Western riders and cowboys. I loved working with rescue horses, but I wanted to try something different, and I thought you could help me get my start.”
Nathan’s gaze looks pensive, like he’s not sure how to react. I plunge ahead, knowing I just need to rip the Band-Aid off.
“I tried to talk to you about training Ballantine and you brushed me off. You looked at me like I didn’t interest you at all.I spent the night alone at the bar because I was too upset to try talking to you again.”
“And I spent the night drinking and flirting with women,” he finishes.
I nod. “And then, when you came over to try and talk to me again as we were leaving, you said something about how I didn’t have to hide out alone at the bar. Maybe you were just trying to get me to come out of my shell, but I felt like you were highlighting how pathetic I was. That’s why I lashed out at you and called you an idiotic playboy.”
Nathan winces. “Iwasan idiot back then. I should have spent the time actually trying to get to know you, but I was only interested in drinking, sex, and talking about myself. I felt like you were being rude, sitting by yourself and refusing to party with us. But you were actually just disappointed by the person I turned out to be.”
“You’re not really like that though, are you?” I ask. “You’ve been in Star Mountain for a good few weeks and you haven’t gone out much or um, flirted a lot.”
“I flirt with you,” Nathan says, his charming smile slipping over his face.
“Don’t deflect,” I murmur. “I was being serious. You seem different from the man I met all those years ago. What changed?”
Nathan goes quiet, and won’t look directly at me.
“I grew up,” he says finally. “And I decided I couldn’t just be a player and a partier forever.”
“Okay,” I say, though I have a hunch there’s more to the story.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “For making you feel so small back then. I would have hated me, too.”
“I don’t think I hate you anymore,” I say, giving him a small smile. “And for what it’s worth, I’m not disappointed by you. You’re not an idiotic playboy with sawdust for brains.”
