Nathan hit the punching bag over and over again. It wasn't working to clear up his frustration, but he felt better for smacking something.
I handled it all so f*****g wrong.
He'd cared for Dana so tenderly during her convalescence, acted the perfect gentlemen as he'd lifted her for bathing and other private necessities that would have surely made her blush had she known. He'd wanted to care for her himself, but had grudgingly allowed John, who had the medical expertise, to monitor and treat her. He'd restrained himself from punching the lights out of his best friend when he noted how his friend lingered over her, his eyes alight with an expression Nathan recognized all too well.
But he'd consoled himself with the fact that, once Dana woke, he'd talk to her, apologize for not standing fi
