“Are you a mean drunk? Because I don’t remember you being mean last night.” The crinkle of cellophane dances through the air. “You were pretty funny, actually.”
“I was?”
She shrugs, taking a bite of a cracker. “From what I remember.”
“Fabulous,” I mumble, heading to my room.
I climb into bed and tug the blankets over me. They aren’t as soft as Machlan’s, and I don’t sink into my mattress like his either. I also don’t remember when the bed got this big.
As I lie in my dirty clothes from last night and feel the wine churning in my stomach, I try to sleep. But as soon as my eyes close, my mind starts to drift.
The pain I numbed last night comes barreling back. A hand goes to my chest, the sadness cutting so deep it physically hurts. The worst part of all is pinpointing what hurts worse—the pain of losing him or the pain of never really having him at all.
Just as my nose starts to burn, alerting me of tears to come, my phone rings in my hand. I pull it to my face and see Cross’s name emblazoned across the front.
“Hey,” I say with no enthusiasm.
“I heard you left town last night.”
“You heard right.”
“I also heard Machlan punched a guy in Crave over you. Again.”
“You heard right,” I repeat. “Again.”
“What the fuck happened, Had?”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“Oh, I’m going to,” he tells me. “But I thought I’d get your side first.”
Groaning, I sit up. My head throbs from the movement. My body begs me to quit the day and just burrow down in the blankets and sleep it off.
Cross sighs into the phone as I take my time propping myself up with pillows. By the time I’m ready to talk, he’s out of patience.
“Can we get on with it?” he asks.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m over here trying to figure out how to sleep off a heartbreak. My bad.”
“A heartbreak?” The question is cold. Pointed. Full of promises he doesn’t have to verbalize.
It’s my turn to sigh. “No. Not a heartbreak. I mean, yeah,” I babble. “I don’t fucking know.”
“Well, Peck called me late last night and just said there was an incident and you were fine but left town.”
“How’d he know I left town?”
“He’s Peck. You don’t think he made damn sure you were okay?”
My heart fills as I think of my sweet friend.
“He had eyes on you until Emily was driving your car and you were on the highway back to Vigo. But he wouldn’t really say what happened. And, Had, I wanna know.”
He’s at his wit’s end with this. I can hear it in his voice.
It must be hard for him, being Machlan’s best friend and my big brother. He loves us both. And he should. Machlan is a great friend to him.
The idea that Cross and Machlan would have a wedge between them because of me makes my head hurt even more, and the longer I ponder it, the more I realize I can’t let that happen. I can’t ruin their best friendship because I have this stupid love for a man who refuses to let me do just that.
I could spin this story a couple of different ways if I wanted to be a jerk. But I don’t. I don’t want to do that to them.
“This guy, Logan,” I say, “was hitting on me. Machlan didn’t like it too much.”
“Oh, I bet he didn’t.”
“In Machlan’s defense, Logan hit him first. I don’t think Mach even saw it coming,” I say. My stomach drops as I remember Machlan’s head jerking to the side as Logan’s fist pushed across it. “All Mach did was hit him back.”
“Once?”
“Eh, a few times. It was actually kind of impressive.”
“What made you leave town then?”
“I just … He’s not going to change, Cross.” My words are barely audible as I sniffle. “I told him I was leaving, and he told me to be safe or something stupid like that. Even after the days we spent together, you know, it was just back to the old Machlan.”
“Don’t cry.”
“Well, it’s hard not to,” I say, wiping a tear. “But I’ll be okay. For real this time. This time, this one is on me.”
“How do you figure?”
“I came back. I asked for it. And I got my answer. I can’t blame him for that.”
My head starts to swirl, his laugh filling my mind. His touch is hot on my skin, his breath whispering against my ear, and then it hits me. I’ll never have that again. I got a glimpse into a world I can never have.
“Do you want me to come up there?” Cross asks. “Or send Kallie? Or … something.”
“No,” I say, drying my face with the blanket. “I just need to cry it out today. I’ll be okay. Emily is here, and I’m going to eat all my feelings and probably watch a sappy movie or two and just be done with it. Tomorrow, I start my new job. Tomorrow will be the first day of the rest of my life. Today, I’ll mourn the last day of my old one.”