My leg muscles start to ache in about two seconds, but it doesn’t stop me from keeping pace. I try to run from my truth with Adrian. The fact that there’s something about him that tugs at me, but I know I need to sever that pull. I need to stand up and confess our past and see if there’s some way we can work through this. Find a way to heal.
You see stuff like that all the time—where people from the same tragedy heal through each other. It could happen. We deserve that.
My mind runs to Maddox next. How much pain he’s in and how mad he makes me and how I wish I understood the extra shadows living inside him. Why he handles our past so much differently than I do.
By the time I make it back around to the front of the apartment complex, my chest aches and plumes of steam puff out of my mouth with each breath.
“You should dance. It’s a good way to exercise and you can do it inside, where it’s warm.”
I jump at the sound of Cheyenne’s voice. “Shit. You scared the hell out of me.”
Cheyenne laughs. “Sorry. You must have been out there. I figured you heard me walk up.”
It’s something I probably should have heard but wasn’t really paying attention. Since darkness is making its descent across the sky, it wasn’t very smart of me either.
“It’s been a long day. There’s a lot going on.”
“I hear ya. Colt had a doctor’s appointment today and those always freak me out. He’s out right now. I was planning on having a drink. Wanna come up?” she asks me.
I want to, even though I shouldn’t do it. Shouldn’t push my way into Adrian’s life any more than I already have, but I like her. She’s cool and God, what I wouldn’t give to have a friend around here. I miss having friends. Back home everyone knew who I was and what had happened, which made it difficult.
I guess it wouldn’t hurt to hang out if I don’t talk about Adrian.
“Sure,” I tell her. “Which apartment are you in? I want to run home and clean up real quick.” I hate admitting the giddiness inside me. I’m eighteen years old. This is what my life is supposed to be. Hanging out with friends instead of dealing with a suicidal mom and a brother who might be losing himself too.
Cheyenne gives me her apartment number and I tell her I’ll be there soon. After jumping into a quick shower, I change into a pair of jeans and a sweater. I run a brush through my hair and leave it hanging free before picking up my cell phone. There’s a text from Maddox telling me he won’t be home tonight. That he’s “out,” whatever that means. I hate it when he gets pissed and disappears.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I put my shoes on before heading over to Cheyenne’s. A girls’ night is exactly what I need.
* * *
I’m holding my third drink, watching the grains of salt drift from the top of my glass and into my margarita.
“Hehehe. I think my salt is having a race,” I say, and then Cheyenne laughs.
“Oh my God. That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. I wonder whose salt would win in a race, mine or yours?”
At that we both start laughing. She’s sitting on the bed in the small studio apartment she shares with Colt. I’m at the table, which hardly has enough room for the two chairs sitting at it.
But I love it. Their apartment is perfect because you can tell how happy they are in it. There’s pictures on the walls and Colt’s clothes mixed with hers in a basket and it’s so perfect I want to cry. I know for a fact how things can look perfect but not really be that way. Somehow I know that’s not the case here. Or maybe I only want to believe it.
“How long have you and Colt been together?” I ask her.
She gets that dreamy look in her eyes and my heart flutters for them.
“Honestly we haven’t been together very long. Just since the beginning of the school year, but it doesn’t feel like it.” She sets her cup down and pulls her legs up under her. “I’m still working on this talking thing…”
It takes her a few minutes, and I give them to her. Understand what she’s going through because though I’ve never been one who has a hard time saying how I feel, I have experience with people who do.
“I wasn’t really in a good place when I met him. Colt wasn’t either. We didn’t plan to fall in love, but—”
“I think that’s maybe the best kind of love. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
She gives me a kind smile. “What do you mean?”
I don’t let myself think before I speak. “I think falling in love by accident is special. I remember my mom telling me when she met my dad that she knew he would be hers. I used to think that was kind of romantic, but… that turned out horribly. I think when love sneaks up on you, when it grabs on to you when you least expect it, maybe that’s more of a sign it’s real. That it’s meant to be and nothing could stop the two of you from falling for each other.”
I’m drifting away, looking at a picture of Cheyenne and Colt sitting on their bedside table. He’s not looking at her. He’s staring off into the distance and Cheyenne’s behind him. Her head against his shoulder blade and I swear I feel it between them. Feel the connection welding them together.
“I think maybe you’re right.” I hear the smile in her voice. “He’s helped me through a lot. I don’t know if I would have made it without him. The cool thing is, and this might make me sound a little conceited, but I don’t care because it’s true. I know I do the same for him. Things aren’t always easy, but I know in here”—she touches her chest—“that we belong together.”
I take a drink, trying to give myself a little bit of space from the mood that’s turned slightly somber, but also full of hope. I want that hope. Want it to spread from Cheyenne’s life and into my own.
“What about you? Have you ever been in love?” she asks.
Automatically, I shake my head. That’s an easy one. “No.” My mind then turns to what Cheyenne said. About not being able to talk and I want to do that. I want to open my mouth and tell her everything. I’ve never really done that—just spilled my secrets for someone to dissect. But I know I can’t. I can’t tell her before I tell Adrian. I don’t even know if she knows his past. That his nephew was killed and that he ran from his family afterward.
“Okay, seriously, we’re getting all mopey. I hate girls who get drunk and depressed. We’re supposed to be having fun,” she says.
At that I smile. I really like this girl. “You’re right. I have a question for you…” I swore to myself I wouldn’t ask her about Adrian, but after the drinks, I can’t help it. I want to hear something, anything to get to know him, but then the door pushes open and Colt comes in. Man, he’s incredibly sexy with messy blond hair and this cocky edge about him.
“Hey you!” Cheyenne leaps off the bed and jumps into his arms. He catches her and her legs wrap around his waist.
“Hey, Tiny Dancer.” And then he laughs. “You’re drunk as f**k, aren’t you?”
She giggles a yes and then my breath backs up into my lungs when Adrian steps into the doorway behind them. His eyes are tinged red, and I take in his strong jaw and his dark hair. Holy crap is he sexy too. My heart starts to race and I silently beg it to take a breather.
When his eyes find me, he grins. There’s a storm in his gaze that I feel rain down on me. Adrian puts his arm on the opposite side of the doorway. “Well, what do we have here?”
His voice is sexy, which I know he’s doing on purpose, but the alcohol invites it in, lets it seep through me and into me, warm and inviting, before it drags my memory to his kisses.
Kisses I can’t let happen again.
Maybe this is a good thing, fate that he showed up here when I have liquor to give me a loose tongue.
Tonight, I tell myself. Tonight will be the perfect time to tell him.
Chapter Eleven
~Adrian~
“It’s cold! Close the door!” Cheyenne says, her head hanging over Colt’s shoulder as she looks at me. It’s the first time I’ve taken my eyes off Delaney. I definitely didn’t expect to see her when I walked in. Now I’m wishing I didn’t get high as hell before I came.
I look back at her and she’s still giving me the same sexy, flirty little look that I don’t think she realizes is on her face. She’s gorgeous as hell. I’m pretty sure she’s not one of those girls who’s hot and pretends not to know it, but she also doesn’t strike me as the real flirty type. There’s this air of innocence dancing around her that should make me turn away, but instead it intrigues me.
I don’t hang around many innocent girls.
“Adrian! Stop staring at Laney and close the door before I kick your ass,” Cheyenne shouts at me again. Colt’s laughing and walking over to the bed with her in his arms. I shut the door.
I don’t say anything about staring because we all know I was doing it, so instead I look at her. “Laney, huh?”
“Yes. Her name is awesome, but it’s long.” Like hers isn’t.
“It’s okay.” Casper shrugs. “Most people call me Laney.”
“I don’t call you Laney,” I say, because I know she won’t expect it and won’t have an answer.
“Why do you do that? You’re always trying to fluster me.”
Her ghosts are hidden right now, her eyes glassy portals to her soul. “You’re drunk too. Were you guys having a party without us?”
“When did you ever need anyone to wait for you?” Colt’s got Cheyenne on his lap now, his hand on her hip.
“You’re right. Where’s the booze?” I stand up and walk over to the kitchen, which is obviously in the same room we’re already in.
“You don’t need any alcohol. You’re always drinking or smoking something.” Cheyenne watches him.
“I forgot how that was your business,” I reply at the same time that Colt whispers to her, “Hey. Don’t.”