Days of You and Me (8 page)

He frowned, and then his face cleared. “Oh. Ah, okay. Well, Ellie knows a lot of eligible guys, too. And you know Lorganson? Second string safety? I think he’s single now, too.”

“Uh, that’s really nice of you.” I reached for my own towel. “But it’s not the dudes I’m into, actually. I like girls. I like them a lot. Just right now, there’s one who’s really fucked with my head, so I’m steering clear for the time being.”

“Got it, brother.” He nodded, compassion in his eyes. “If you ever need a place to hang, or someone to talk to . . . I’m around. And Ellie’s real good at being a listening ear and giving a chick’s perspective. So . . . just remember that.”

“Thanks.” I stood staring into the darkness of my locker until Corey had headed off to the showers, whistling as he went.

I was about to follow—at a respectable distance, of course—when I heard the sound of my phone vibrating on the shelf where I’d left it before practice. Picking it up, I frowned at the screen.

Nate
.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a text from him. When we were in college, we’d communicated through Quinn, mostly, although I remembered him sending me some quick congratulations messages after games. Touching his name, I scanned the words.

Nate:
Are you going to be in NJ anytime soon? Need to talk with you when you can.

It was an odd request, and coming on the heels of my brooding over home, it hit me hard. Normally, the answer would’ve been a fast and definite no, but there was a small break in the schedule coming up, giving us some rare free time Friday afternoon into Saturday morning.

Leo
:
No plans but can probably do an overnight this weekend if it’s urgent. What’s up?

I can call you.

For a moment, he didn’t respond, and I checked the timestamp to see if maybe he’d sent the text earlier and might be napping now. But then the phone buzzed again.

Nate
:
Kind of urgent. Not a phone call kind of talk.

I sighed as I answered him.

Leo:
Okay. Be there Friday late afternoon. Will text when on my way. Your house?

Nate
:
No, we’re living at the shore. Carrie and Quinn’s house. Thanks. See you then.

I rubbed the edge of the phone, my lips pressed together. A jumpy kind of dread licked at my gut as I debated over what to do. I had a feeling maybe I knew what Nate wanted, why he needed to talk to me. And no matter how much shit had gone down between us, no matter how fucking angry at him I was just now, there was one thing I knew for sure.

I wasn’t ready to say good-bye.

It was a typical August day at the Jersey shore, meaning the sun was hot and the air was humid. In the interest of expediency, I’d hopped a direct flight from Charlottesville to Atlantic City, rented a car and driven down to Ocean City, texting Nate that I was heading his way.

I knew this route well, since my great-aunt had lived in Ventnor when I was growing up, and my family had frequently visited her before we drove down to spend time with the Russells at their shore rental, the same house Carrie now owned, and the same house where apparently Nate and Quinn were currently living.

Nerves were jumping around my stomach at the thought that I might see Quinn today. The last few times we’d talked had not gone well; I’d let my anger get the best of me the day after she married Nate, and at the grocery store on the Fourth of July, I’d skirted out-and-out meanness when I’d let her think Sarah and I were together, as in dating. I’d seen the bleak hurt in her weary eyes, and instantly, I’d felt like the biggest asshole jerk in the world. Anyone could see Quinn was barely holding herself together. I couldn’t imagine what she was dealing with, and I’d gone and made it worse.

Of course, then I’d gotten an earful from Sarah, who’d blasted me all the way back to my parents’ house.

“I only agreed to come up here with you this weekend because I promised my mom I’d come home, and I thought a road trip with you might be fun. I did
not
come up to be used to make Quinn, my
friend
, jealous because you’re still sulking. If you pull that shit again, I swear I will never talk to you, the rest of our lives. We’re friends, Leo, and that’s all we’re ever going to be, because you are loopy in love with that girl back there, and I’m not ever going to play consolation prize again. Got it?”

I’d apologized and groveled, and by the time I’d dropped Sarah back in Georgetown, she’d mostly forgiven me. She’d pointed at me as she’d gotten out of the car and instructed me to text Quinn and tell her I was sorry, too, but somehow I’d never gotten around to that, which was a big reason for why, as I approached the house, I was hoping not to see Quinn today.

The driveway was empty, and I pulled in, climbed out of the car and walked slowly across the porch. The front door was open, so I knocked on the screen, peering inside as I called.

“Hello? Anyone home?’

“Come on in, Leo.”

I almost didn’t recognize Nate’s voice, but as I stepped inside, catching the screen door so that it didn’t slam, I saw him lying on the sofa. His hips and legs were covered with a knit afghan, and several pillows were at his back. He was thinner than ever, if that was even possible.

“Hey.” I stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. “Uh, did I wake you up?”

“Nah.” Nate shook his head, but he looked exhausted as he blinked, and I wondered if he was having trouble sleeping. “Sit down, okay? So I don’t have to break my neck staring up at you.”

I perched on the edge of the chair nearest the sofa. “This better?”

He nodded. “Much, thanks.” His eyes darted around the room, as though he was looking for his next line. “Thanks for coming up, Leo. It means a lot.”

“Sure.” I glanced around my shoulder. “Is, uh . . . is anyone else at home?”

A faint smile played about his lips. “No. Quinn had a meeting in the city for work, and I convinced my mom to go with her. I’m okay by myself for short stretches, and my mother needed the break.” He hastened to add, “They both did.”

“You’re living here now full-time? I thought you moved back to Eatonboro after the . . . last time I saw you.” I wasn’t going to mention the wedding if I could help it. I also wasn’t going to say anything about seeing Quinn at the grocery store on the Fourth of July, just in case she hadn’t told him.

Nate looked pained. “We did move back. But it was hard on Quinn. It was my dad’s idea to come down here for a while, and it’s . . . good. This place is her home, sort of, and she’s comfortable. I don’t have to climb steps, and it works out well for everyone.”

Bitterness corroded my throat. Quinn was turning herself inside out for Nate, for this sham of a marriage. At a time when her life should’ve been beginning, when she should have been starting her first real job, excited about the future . . . and yeah, goddammit, marrying
me
, living with
me
. . . instead she was playing nurse, wearing herself thin and watching her friend die.

I clenched my jaw so hard it ached. “So what do you need, Nate? Why did you ask me to come up?”

He frowned, staring out the window at the ocean. “I want to talk to you about Quinn, Leo. Specifically, about what’s going to happen when I’m not here anymore.”

Annoyance flared in my chest. “Oh, you want my word that I won’t make any moves? You want Quinn to stay a widow for the rest of her life, with no other prospects for marriage and a family?”

Nate sighed. “No, of course not. And I’m not asking for your word about anything. I just want to give you some advice.” He paused, his lips pursing as he searched for the right words.

“I’m going to help you get Quinn back. This time forever.”

That was about the last thing I expected to hear him say. I quirked an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really.” Nate shifted, adjusting his back with a wince that made me wonder if he needed a dose of his pain meds. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do when I die?”

“God, Nate.” I scowled. “What the hell kind of question is that?”

“The kind someone who doesn’t have time for bullshitting might ask. I don’t want to play games or beat around the bush, Leo. So tell me what happens for you when I’m dead?”

An unexpected lump rose in my throat. “I’ll be . . . devastated, Nate. No matter what’s happened between us over the years, no matter how much I disagree with some of the stuff you’ve pulled, it doesn’t change the fact that you were my first best friend. We were the Trio. I’m going to miss you for the rest of my life.”

Nate stared at me. “I had no idea you . . . cared that much. I figured everything that happened with Quinn would change things between you and me.”

“Yeah, well . . .” I ran a hand through my hair. “Maybe it did change us. But it doesn’t mean that I want you to die. You’ve done some shit I hate. But I don’t hate you.”

“Good to know.” He pinched the edge of the blanket together and rubbed it between two fingers. “But aside from that . . . what I meant was, how do you foresee things going down between you and Quinn?”

This line of questioning was making me very uncomfortable. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”

Nate dropped his head back against the pillows as though I was exhausting him, and hell, maybe I was. But this was a damn uncomfortable conversation we were having right here.

“Stop tiptoeing around my tender feelings, Leo, and answer me. Are you planning to propose to her at my funeral, or maybe wait a few weeks?”

“Jesus Christ!” I jumped to my feet and stalked around the small living room. “No. What do you think of me, man? I’m not considering that. It hasn’t even crossed my mind. If you want me to be completely honest, I don’t have any clear idea of what the future holds for Quinn and me. Once I thought I did. Now . . .” I shrugged. “I can’t say. She made a decision that’s pretty much a deal-breaker for me. She made a choice. I’m not going to sit around and wait until the repercussions of that choice are—” I searched for a word that wouldn’t sound cruel. “No longer an issue.”

“So you’re saying that you don’t have feelings for Quinn anymore? You don’t love her?”

Dropping down into the chair again, I ran one hand over my face. “Of course I love her. I’m going to love Quinn until I die. She’s always going to be the one for me, I know that. But it’s starting to feel like we’re never going to be on the same page. Our timing’s always off.”

“Maybe.” He nodded. “Still, you came in here just now, proverbial guns blazing, to blast me if I was going to warn you away from her when I was gone. Doesn’t sound to me like you’re writing her off completely.”

I flicked a glance at him. “Of course I haven’t. This is Quinn and me. But I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do here. She didn’t ask me to wait for her. And even if she did, wouldn’t that be a little awkward? Me, hanging out on the sidelines, waiting for the first-string tight end to get hurt so I could run onto the field?”

“It always comes back to football with you, doesn’t it?” Nate shook his head. “But it’s not a bad analogy. Isn’t that what you do? Wait for your chance to be called into the game? This situation isn’t so different. What I’m suggesting, though, is that you don’t, uh, immediately try to grab the football and make a run for the end zone.”

“Uh huh.” I nodded slowly. “Can you maybe be just a little more specific and a little less derogatory to the girl we both love? Quinn would hate being compared to a football.”

“You’re not wrong.” Nate grimaced. “Okay. Plain talk. No matter how you think you’re going to feel after I’m gone, once it happens, both you and Quinn will be tempted to dive back into a relationship. Or something. I’m going to advise you against that.”

“Yeah, I just bet you are.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.

“Leo, come on. I don’t have an ax to grind here. Dead, remember?” He hooked a thumb at his own chest. “I’m not an idiot. I know that once I’m off-planet, I have zero influence and zero expectations. I’m not going to know. Maybe I won’t even care. But right now, I do. I care about Quinn and her future.”

“And you think I don’t?”

Nate’s mouth pressed into a firm line. “Of course you do, but you’re too close to the whole thing to see it clearly.”

“But you’re not.” Yeah, I was skeptical.

“Are you kidding? I’ve had a front-row center life-long season ticket to the Quinn-and-Leo show. No one’s more of an expert on you two than me. And I’m telling you, if you go after her right away and end up together again . . . it might work. It might last, but the chances aren’t good, because neither of you have dealt with what always tears you apart.”

“But you know what that is, and you’re going to tell me how to deal with it?”

Nate remained unflappable. “Yes, as a matter of fact I think I can.” Bracing both hands on either side of his body, he pushed to sit up a little. I could see the effort cost him, as sweat broke out on his upper lip. But he ignored it and pushed on.

“See, there’re two things, Leo. The first one really isn’t your fault, but you still have the power to change it.” He fiddled with a string on the edge of the blanket. “Quinn has never had a chance to know who she is without you or me. Think about it. Even when we were born, it was me first, then you, and then Quinn. We’ve been with her as long as she can remember. When I’m gone, she’ll have the opportunity to find out who she really is . . . if you let her do that.”