Chapter 21 #2
“Yeah,” he says, looking down at the table and lining up his knife and fork on their paper napkin. “Honestly, I knew after freshman year it wasn’t for me, but Dad made me go back. I stuck it out for one more semester, then withdrew. He and I had a big fight over it actually.”
“Really?” I can’t imagine Nate—or his soft-spoken father—having any kind of fight.
“He said I was letting my grief make decisions for me. He didn’t want me to miss out on an opportunity because I was homesick, you know? Especially since the person I was homesick for was gone.”
I let my foot find his under the table—a simple gesture of comfort. “Seems like his heart was in the right place?”
Nate nods. “I eventually made him see that this life is actually something I want—not just something I was defaulting to. And besides, he was being a hypocrite. He’d fallen apart just as badly, if not more. He desperately needed the help.”
“Well, you’re a good son. To be there for him like that. To be there for each other. Even if you had to give some things up.”
“Honestly,” he says, “Cara’s always been the ambitious one in the family anyway. She had this vision for the jewelry line and just—made it happen.”
I give a tight-lipped smile. “Oh, I know.”
“You’re pretty ambitious too.” Nate shifts in his seat, tracing the rim of his glass with a finger, eyes flicking up to mine before dropping back down.
There’s a pause, like he’s weighing the words, and then he finally leans slightly forward.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you… why did you go on the show in the first place? ”
“My friend Emma nominated me,” I say, stuffing another fry into my mouth with a shrug.
“Didn’t mean you had to agree.”
I look out the window for a beat, trying to gather my thoughts, before returning Nate’s gaze.
“I didn’t really know what I was doing with my life,” I start.
“Honestly, I’m jealous that you’ve always been so clear about what you want.
I had a degree in marketing, but I didn’t feel passionate about my job.
Plus, I thought I’d find my future husband at college—like all my friends back home did—and that didn’t happen…
” I give a little shrug. “I probably sound naive, given how everything played out, but I actually did kind of think maybe this was my path to finding love.”
“We’ve all had our delusions,” Nate says, and I want to laugh it off, but I feel the joke like a thud of disappointment in my chest. Maybe it was a little delusional. But somehow, it feels different when he says it.
“Are you talking about me, right now? Or you?” I ask quietly.
Nate doesn’t answer, and I don’t want to pry about his ex—Sarah, I think he’d said her name was. But clearly, it left him scarred.
“I just mean,” I go on, after the silence feels a little too intense, “that despite what’s happened to us individually, maybe not all love is a delusion.”
Nate opens his mouth, but before he can respond to that, the waitress arrives with our sandwiches.
He takes his first bite, and I raise my eyebrows expectantly. “Well? What’s the verdict?”
He chews thoughtfully, then swallows. “This might be the best contender yet. The butter ratio is perfect. Here.” He holds his sandwich across the table for me to take a bite. My lips graze his fingers, and I feel a jolt of electricity that I try to ignore.
The sandwich is good, and I let out a groan of pleasure—then watch as Nate’s eyes darken.
“Um, do you want to try mine?” I say, trying to break the crackling tension. Instead of feeding him, I slide my plate across the table.
“Mm, good tomatoes,” Nate says, after he takes a bite. “Not as good as your mom’s though.”
Just then, my phone buzzes. I glance at the text then hold it up for Nate to see.
“Speaking of Mom, she’s wondering if we’ve had a chance yet to ask the florist about boutonnieres, in addition to stems for the bud vases.” I roll my eyes. “Guess we should head straight there, once we finish eating.”
“Why are you even agreeing to pick out the flowers—aren’t you the one who is so against this wedding in the first place?” Nate challenges playfully, one eyebrow raised.
I shake my head, not really knowing how to answer. Because I am against it. But also… I don’t want to spend the rest of this week in negativity, bemoaning the awkwardness of my situation and living in fear of Mary Moore or someone else gossiping about the family.
I just wish I could—could unwind and trust in the process, like they’re always saying on the show. But there’s too much at stake. I don’t want my future ruined by bad press, and I don’t want to deal with the same public humiliation I’ve already gone through before.
Still, I’m getting tired of the sabotage—especially since I’m pretty sure I’m in it alone.
We have less than a week left, and I want to spend it differently.
After all, once this week ends—and once I go back on LovedBy…
if I go back on LovedBy—then whatever this “friendship” with Nate is will officially be over.
“I still think it’s potentially disastrous,” I say cautiously. “But I can admit when I’m wrong, and I was wrong about one thing.”
“That you’d never beat my sister in a martial arts sparring match?”
I laugh softly. “No, I was wrong about them. Cara and Cooper. I literally never thought I’d admit this, but they actually do kind of seem… good together.”
“Careful,” he says with a lopsided grin.
“You keep talking like that, and people are going to start thinking you actually believe in happy endings.” He flags the waitress for our check, then insists on paying it.
“Come on,” he says, reaching out a hand to lead me out of the restaurant. “We’ve got a date with a flower farm.”
My stomach flips, and I try not to look too eager as I take his hand.
Because the last thing I want to admit is the truth—that the improbable romance I’m rooting for might not be Cooper and Cara’s at all.