She doesn’t reach for it. “What’s the point?”
“I’m trying to fix a problem I caused, not start more of them.”
“Then fix what actually matters here, and spoiler warning, it’s not the vase.”
“I…” I lose the rest of my sentence.
“What was the point of going back to rehab if you were only going to start drinking again?”
My heart feels like someone split it apart with the jaws of life. “I had lost my reason for getting sober in the first place.”
Her brows furrow. “What? Money? Hockey? The will to live a normal life?”
“You, Lana. I lost you.”
24
ALANA
I shake my head hard enough to make my vision blurry. “You don’t get to stand here and blame me for your addiction.”
He clasps on to my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “I’m not blaming you. I’m just being honest about what happened the last time.”
“What last time?”
His fingers clutching my chin tighten. “I came back. Even though I swore to you I wouldn’t, I did it anyway because I was a stupid, hopeful fool.”
I suck in a breath. “When?”
“Right before my grandpa was taken off the ventilators.”
“But that was—” Over two years ago.
Oh, no.
The look on his face drives an invisible dagger through my heart.
“I didn’t believe it at first.” His gaze drops. Tension bleeds from his shoulders, each of his muscles rigid underneath the fabric of his shirt. “But then I saw you with my own two eyes, kissing that guy, Victor, right by Last Call.”
My eyes narrow. “Who told you about him?”
His upper lip curls from disgust. “Does it matter?”
I look away.
His chest rises and falls from his deep exhale. “You know what? It shouldn’t because that’s not my point.”
My eyes shut. “Then what is?”
“I failed you for the final time that night.”
My head shakes hard enough to rattle my brain. “How? I didn’t even know you were in town.”
“Because instead of fighting for you—for us—I chose the easy way out that night. The familiar one. The wrong one. Instead of dealing with my problems, I wanted to drown them in alcohol until I couldn’t feel any more pain. Until I numbed the part of my brain that saw you in the arms of another man. It was so fucked up after all that effort to get sober, but I couldn’t find it in me to stop. I didn’t want to. My main reason for getting better was stolen away from me, which was exactly what my grandpa said would happen.”
He bares his soul to me, and I find it impossible to tear him down at the moment.
“I know I ruined our chance at something more. It was selfish of me to even try the last time, knowing the kind of mental state I was in and that us getting together could very well ruin our friendship.”
“Why take the risk then?” The question I obsessed over flies out of my mouth, along with any sense of self-preservation.
He takes a deep breath. My stomach twists into a knot, the muscles stretching tight enough to hurt.
His gaze locks on to mine. “I always thought we were meant to be. I might have screwed up the timing a bit, but that doesn’t change the fact that there is no one I want more in this world than you.”
Breathing becomes exponentially more difficult.
“I was biding my time before because it was never the right moment for us. Three years doesn’t sound like a big difference anymore, but back then it felt like a whole other lifetime. By the time you turned eighteen, I was already a loser with one stint in rehab under my belt. I was a fuckup and you were…” He stalls.
“If you say a virgin, I’m going to punch you.” Cal teased me about it until one night I cracked and hooked up with an out-of-towner. He stayed pissed for an entire week, which was unheard of.
“Perfect. You were perfect.” He runs his knuckles across my cheek.
Cue the butterflies.
“You had all these dreams and so did I. One of us would have had to settle, and I didn’t want that for us. Didn’t want to risk you resenting me when we were older.” His smile falters. “I guess that was a stupid reason looking back on it.”
“I don’t resent you. I just want to cut off your airflow and watch your face turn purple every now and then.”
“Under the right circumstance, I’d love to play out your fantasy.” He winks.
“Sure. Our safe word can be more.”
A laugh explodes from his mouth, pure and light, as he stares at me like…
Like before.
“This is what I miss.” He gestures between us with a grin. “I know I can’t go back and change what I did the last time I was here. And as fucked up as it sounds, I don’t regret it either, even though I lost you in the process. Because I would have rather known what it felt like to have had you for a summer than to have not had you at all.”
My heart feels about ready to implode on itself, especially with what he says next.
“We’ve had a rocky start this summer, but I just hope we can be friends again. At least while I’m here.”
“Friends?” The floor drops out from underneath me.
He reads my face like his favorite book. “I know I screwed up big-time yesterday.”
“You did. Massively.”
“I’m glad I have you around to keep me humble.”
“Consider it my contribution to society. We can’t have someone like you running around town with an ego the size of Lake Michigan.”
“There must be some hope for me after all when there is still Lake Superior to contend with.”
I press my lips together in a poor attempt to conceal my smile.
He sighs. “Look. I know asking to be friends again is a stretch—” Yeah, because you kissed me senseless only a week ago. “But I’m hoping we can find some way to get along while I’m here.”
I roll my bottom lip between my teeth while I consider his proposal. Being friends would set an expectation. It can give us a few boundaries that will hopefully prevent us from doing something stupid.
Right. Because that worked so well the last time he was here.
I’m smarter now. Back then, the excitement of us becoming a couple trumped my common sense. But now, I’m more prepared. I evolved. Letting go of the anger I have toward him would be a sign of maturity.
Not trusting him and his addiction isn’t a sign of immaturity, but experience.
Experiences I suffered through not only with him, but my sister, too. The kind that taught me everything I know about living with loved ones who suffer with addictions.
I open my mouth with every intention of rejecting his bid for friendship, only to press my lips together. He isn’t the only one who misses our friendship.
I do as well.
I rock back on my heels. “If you want to be friends again, we need to establish some boundaries.”
“Like?”
“If you get drunk again like you did on the night of Cami’s graduation, we’re done. Forever.”
He swallows hard. “Fine.”
Well, damn. I expected a bit more hesitancy with that one.
“And no more kissing.” The words rush out of my mouth.