staying. “About the same time my dad died so I came home to help my mom. Worst mistake of my life.”
“Pike isn’t that bad.”
“It’s a shithole, but I didn’t have the money or the skills to land a decent job, so I was stuck.” He shook his head in self-disgust. “I’m still stuck.”
She pursed her lips in disdain. As if she was judging him. “I don’t know why you think you’re stuck. You’re still young, single, and free to do whatever you want,” she said in peevish tones. “It’s not like you have a kid depending on you. Why not sell the bar and move away?”
It was a question he asked himself a dozen times a day. Chelsea was right. He could sell the bar, pack a bag, and walk away. But he didn’t. He stayed. Day after day after day.
“And go where?” His voice was equally peevish. “A different shithole in a different state? Besides . . .”
“What?”
He hunched his shoulders. “Nothing.”
“What’s really keeping you here, Nash?” Chelsea asked, stepping toward him as she searched his face for some hint to his inner motives. “Oh my God,” she finally muttered. “It’s the vet, isn’t it?”
Nash jerked, his face heating with embarrassment. “What the hell are you babbling about?”
“Dr. Gale. Do you love her?”
Nash started to deny any feelings for Lynne, but the words stuck in his throat. “I don’t know,” he grudgingly conceded. “When I first hooked up with her, I was hoping she had some extra cash to invest in the bar. She seemed like an easy touch.” He shook his head at his stupidity. He’d been stressed from having to replace the roof, and looking for an easy way out of his troubles. But it hadn’t taken long to realize Lynne didn’t have the funds to pay his bills. Still, he’d continued to date her. Why? It was a question he’d refused to consider. He shrugged. “I suppose I got used to us being together. She wasn’t like anyone else I ever dated. She cares about everything and everyone.” Regret twisted his heart. “Even me.”
Chelsea took a step back, as if his words had hurt her more than his betrayal. “So why sleep with me? Or steal the drugs from her clinic?”
“Just a few weeks after we started dating, I could sense her pulling away,” he admitted with a rare burst of honesty. It’d been a subtle shift in their relationship. She’d always been busy with her stupid animals, but she started making more and more excuses why they couldn’t get together. And her habit of texting him funny pictures or stories during the day had slowed to a trickle. “I knew she was going to dump me.”
Chelsea sent him a jaundiced glare. “You wanted to punish her?”
Nash sucked in a sharp breath as she hit the nail on the head. “I didn’t really think about it, but yeah, I wanted to punish her.”
That was why he hadn’t felt guilty when he’d been screwing Chelsea in the storage room or stealing the drugs to sell. He’d been . . . vindicated. He’d gotten Lynne before she could get him.
“And now?”
“I’m realizing I only punished myself.” He narrowed his eyes as Chelsea suddenly released a shrill laugh. “What’s so funny?”
“I came here because I was pissed you used me. Now I pity you.”
Nash stiffened his spine. How dare she laugh at him? He was Nash Cordon, high school football star and the town’s favorite son. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” he snapped. “Or did you get fired?”
Her amusement faded, at his harsh words. “I called in.” She looked faintly sick. “I’m not sure I can stay there now that Dr. Gale knows what we did.”
Nash knew he’d acted badly, but he didn’t have much sympathy for Chelsea. She’d not only been Lynne’s employee, but she’d claimed to be her friend. Yet the younger woman hadn’t hesitated to betray her.
“Looks like we’re both screwed,” he drawled.
Chelsea brushed her fingers down his bare chest. “It could be a sign we belong together.”
He slapped her hand away. “It’s never gonna happen, Chelsea. You need to move on.”
She blushed a bright red, whirling to snatch her coat off the chair. “Maybe you should take your own advice,” she growled, pulling on the heavy garment and heading for the door.
“Maybe I should,” he agreed, watching her leave with a flare of relief.
Hopefully, the woman had gotten the message. He was done with her. End of story.
Pressing a hand to his aching