By the time I come back in with her bags, everyone is discussing sleeping arrangements.
Given there are only six bunks, one bedroom, and now eight of us—we need to figure out where everyone’s gonna crash.
“Lennon can sleep with me,” George says, which earns him a confused look from Grams and a murderous one from me.
Over my dead body.
“Gram’s is taking Chandler’s room. Chandler is taking my bunk, and I’m sleeping on the couch in the lounge.”
Now that that’s settled, I make my way to Chandler’s bedroom so I can drop off Gram’s luggage.
She ambushes me the moment it hits the floor.
“Regardless of your aversion to romantic relationships, you never struck me as the type to share.”
One of the things I love most about Gram’s is that she doesn’t mince words.
That’s not the case right now.
“I’m not sharing Lennon.”
She arches a brow. “Well, considering he still has a pulse, I assume she’s his then.”
Anger laced with bitterness is a virulent cocktail in my veins.
I stalk toward the door. “Night, Grams.”
She grabs hold of my arm. “Still pushing the people who care about you away, I see. How’s that working out for you, baby?”
Just fine.
She cradles my face, forcing me to look at her. “We all make mistakes, Phoenix. But then we have to do our penance, learn the lesson, and move on.”
That’s not an option.
“Innocent people died. There’s no moving on from that.”
Sadness etches her features. “Yes, there is. It’s called forgiveness.”
“The people I need forgiveness from are dead.”
Except one.
“Then perhaps you need to forgive yourself.”
“I should have died that night.”
At least then the punishment would have fit the crime.
She sighs. “You may as well have, since you’re determined to live in purgatory for the rest of your life.”
“It’s what I deserve.”
No one can tell me otherwise.
“Nobody deserved what happened to them that night. But you’re still here.” She grips my shoulders. “Living like a ghost and punishing yourself day in and day out won’t undo the events of that night.”
“Grams—”
“Life rarely gives you a second chance. You better not screw this up or waste it.”
Too late.
I kiss her cheek. “I’m glad you came to visit. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Phoenix?” she calls out as I’m crossing the threshold.
“Yeah?”
“I see the way that girl still looks at you. We both know she’s not his.”
CHAPTER 43
LENNON
I stuff my pillow over my head as the sound of a passing freight train shakes the bus.
And by freight train? I mean Chandler’s snoring.
Now I understand why he has the bedroom in the back. And why everyone else put in earplugs before they went to bed.
I make a mental note to get a pair of earbuds at the next city since my headphones are too big to sleep with.
I’m debating turning the kitchen table into a bed when my phone vibrates. Assuming George can’t sleep through Chandler’s deafening snoring either and wants to plot out an escape plan, I feel around for it.
I grind my molars when I see a text from Phoenix instead.
Phoenix: Are you up?
Lennon: Are you drunk?
While I know Phoenix giving Sabrina a taste of her own medicine was his way of trying to right one of his many wrongs, it doesn’t magically make everything better.
I let my guard down in front of him the other night and not only was that senseless…it was a mistake.
In order to ensure it never happens again, I have to set some boundaries.
He’s the client and I’m the…babysitter.
Tiny dots appear at the end of my screen before it lights up with a new message.
Phoenix: Not currently. Why?
Lennon: Because that’s the only time I’m contractually obligated to talk to you.
Phoenix: Last I checked, you’re contractually obligated to be there for me when I need you.
I’m pretty sure my sigh is louder than Chandler’s snoring.
Lennon: Fine. What do you need?
Phoenix: What are you wearing?
I squint as I type out my response.
Lennon: Pajamas.
Phoenix: So, my T-shirt and a pair of panties?
Darn it. I’ve got to throw this damn thing out.
Lennon: No.
Phoenix: No panties?
Lennon: No T-shirt, asshole.