Nash sat straight, bringing his arms down from his relaxed position. His eyes narrowed on my face. "What didn't you tell me?"
Whoa. In a snap, he'd gone from casual to focused. If I could bottle just a fraction of his intensity, I'd never have a problem attracting a man again. It was intoxicating to be looked at like you were the most important thing in the world.
I didn't want it to ever stop.
"Sorry I dropped in at your work. I hope you got to your call okay."
Nash shook his head. "It's fine. Come by whenever. Now what didn't you tell me?"
I shrugged. There was plenty I wanted to share. It wasn't normally so difficult for me to keep my curse to myself, but Nash made me want to come clean about everything.
"No, no, you don't get to shrug and be coy. Unless you're using flirting tip number seven, which is to shrug and act coy."
I snorted. "I'm not using any tip, Nash. And I appreciate the time you've spent so far. But don't feel like you have to. I'll be moving on soon and—"
"Where are you going?" Nash asked with that same intense, furrowed brow. "For how long?"
I leaned back. Did he realize how far over the table he was leaning? "I haven't made any concrete plans yet. But since I don't have to stay in one place, I try to take advantage of that." I gave him the same script I always gave on the off chance that someone questioned why I was moving instead of just being grateful like most were.
"Because you write for a living?" he asked.
"Yeah. And I can do that from anywhere."
"So why not do that from Walkerton? Permanently? There's nothing that's making you want to stay? No one?"
Like Zach? I was over that. Since meeting Nash, I did wonder what it would've been like to settle in one spot. But I just had to remember the curse and how many that had already gotten hurt to remember staying was never a possibility. "I really like it here—"
"But that's it?"
I didn't understand this anger. The most obvious answer was that Nash was interested in me. But if that was the case, why wouldn't he come right out and say it? He wasn't shy. Everything about his behavior had told me that when Nash Walker wanted something, he reached out and he grabbed it. If there was any interest from him toward me, it was likely because of the chase. Once he caught me, he wouldn't want me, but I knew getting closer to Nash would only end in my tears and sadness. "Why do you think I should stay?"
That was the wrong thing to say, since it made Nash immediately glower. "If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you."
Huh. That sounded like he was hurt. I didn't want to hurt Nash's feelings. How did you tell someone that you thought they were a perfect person, smoking hot as well, but in a way that made it clear you knew you didn't have a shot? There wasn't a way. I opted on changing the subject instead. "What did you want to do today? Since you still seem to think you owe me, why don't we say today's lesson will bring us even? You better make it good."
His expression never changed, expressing anything other than his displeasure. "Tell me about your writing. Do you… like it?"
I licked my lips to stall while I tried to think of how to respond to that. "I do. I'm not wildly successful or anything, but the royalties are enough to help make ends meet."
"I'd like to read all your books." He sounded so genuine I believed him.
"That would make two of you, not counting me." Seeing his confusion, I explained, "My friend Chuck is the only other person except me to have read everything I wrote. He's my unofficial editor."
"The Chuck from your chat group?" he asked.
My eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Yeah, how did you remember that?"
His cheeks went red. "I… uh… Lucky guess. So you and Chuck are close?"
I brought my shoulder to my ear. "I guess. I know you think they aren't real friends, but there are four of us who chat regularly. We met in a different room and all sort of clicked. I talk to them every day. I'm close with all of them." Except they didn't know about my healing power. Only Nash knew that.
Nash sat back. "All of them equally?"
"Yeah, I guess? Wait, do you think there is something between Chuck and me? He's straight, and he's got kids. A daughter. There's nothing like that going on between us. You don't have to be jea—worried." Only in my insane brain would Nash be jealous of Chuck because of me.
He crossed his arms over his chest. "I want to read your things. I can edit."
"You freelance?"
"No."
I wasn't sure what to say to that, and he didn't seem to either. We fell into an awkward silence. It probably wasn't awkward on his end, just mine. I still wasn't sure why he'd called this meeting. He made it seem like another lesson, but so far he was just asking questions about me. While I searched my brain for something to talk about, Nash tore up his napkin into tiny pieces.
"You know," I said, clearing my throat, "People say that when you tear things up like that, it means you're sexually unsatisfied." I'd read that fact on some website somewhere about interpreting body language. Thanks to my occupation and natural curiosity, I was a fount of random knowledge.
I'd expected Nash to smile, maybe do that laugh that was really just breathing sharply and quickly through his nose. Instead, he settled his hands and straightened his spine.
Clearly, I'd struck a nerve. My brain clicked into overdrive, level one damage control. "Not that I'm the expert here about being satisfied. You've had a ton more special friends than I have."
He cocked his head to the side. "Is that so?"
Oh shit. I'd meant to make it better, but now I'd made it sound like I thought he was sexually promiscuous. I did think that, but I'd said it in a way that made it seem like a bad thing. Level two, activated. "It's cool, though. I mean, at least you have the talent to satisfy your conquests. They probably don't walk straight for a week after." Holy shit, what the fuck am I saying? I listened to myself speak, helpless to stop the words that kept streaming from my lips.
Nash still didn't speak. He wasn't frowning anymore, at least.
What I needed to do was concentrate on drinking my coffee. If I was swallowing, I wasn't speaking. But, now that I'd started, I was having a hard time stopping. I was on a runaway train to verbal humiliation. "I've only had sex with three people. One had to ask me my name the next morning because he couldn't remember." I tapped my chin. "I should've picked up on it when he kept calling me tiger during sex. I don't blame him. I'm not that great at kissing or… any of the other stuff."
I waited for Nash to laugh. Or, at the least, make fun of my inexperience. When he didn't, I looked up at his face, blinking rapidly against the anger I saw there. He tipped his coffee back, downing the rest before gathering the clutter that had accumulated on our table. "Change of plans. We're going back to your place." He grabbed my coffee and stood.
"We are? What were we going to do? Why are we going back?" I followed him to the door. Why hadn't he just met me at my apartment if that was what he had planned?