Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 78142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Are you kidding? You’re going to love this new job, Dee. You’ve always been happier when you’re working.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“Nope, I’m not. Keep Jesse and me posted, okay?”
“I will.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” I end the call.
Then I punch in Teddy’s number. It’s still early, so even if she does have plans, she may still be home.
“Dee!” she shouts into the phone.
Murmurs of voices permeate the line.
“Hey, I just wanted to check and see if you had plans for tonight. I want to go out.”
“You’re not going to believe this,” she says. “There’s an impromptu party going on at my place. I swear to God, I didn’t plan it, or of course I would’ve invited you. But please, come on over.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Seriously. A couple of friends from out of town popped in to say hi, and they brought a bunch of booze and some really good pot. I know you don’t drink much and you don’t smoke at all, but we’ve got some music playing, and my cousin and a couple of my neighbors stopped by. Come on over.”
“Okay.” I check the time on my phone. “This is my last night to party before I start a new job, so yeah, I’ll be there. I just need to change.”
“Awesome. See you in a few.”
Teddy lives in a loft a couple of blocks away from my building, and her place has a great rooftop for parties. I imagine that’s where we’ll end up if the weather holds.
I love a good party. Even though I don’t drink and I’m more the quiet type, I love music and good conversation.
I love the big city and everything it offers. Granted, Denver is not as huge as Chicago, New York, or LA, but I love it. It’s home.
I head to my bedroom and take a look at myself in my full-length mirror.
I decide not to change after all. What I’m wearing is good enough for an impromptu party. Jeans and my sweater. I let my hair down out of its ponytail, and it falls over my shoulders. I also apply a little bit of makeup—just some lipstick, blush, and mascara. Once I’m satisfied, I leave the master bedroom.
To my surprise, Dragon is sitting in the living area reading something on his phone.
“Oh, hi,” I say. “I’m going out for the evening.”
His gaze stays fixed on his phone. “Okay.”
“This is my last night to party before I start that new job, which may be taking all my waking hours.”
Why am I explaining myself to him? I’m an adult, as is he. We’re allowed to have our own lives.
He doesn’t look up. “Got it.”
Invite him to come with you, a little voice says inside my head.
No.
“Anyway, I’ll see you.”
I walk toward the door, grabbing my purse and phone on the way, and then take my leather jacket from the coat rack. I’m ready to leave when something seems to take over my body as I look over my shoulder.
“You want to come along?” I ask.
“What?” Dragon looks up from his phone.
“It’s just a casual party over at my friend’s house.” I frown. “Well, not house so much as a loft. It’s a couple of blocks from here. Some friends of hers came in from… Oh, never mind.”
“Never mind?”
“I’m so sorry.” My cheeks warm. “Teddy—that’s my friend—mentioned that some friends came in from out of town and they brought a lot of booze and pot.” I cross my arms, feeling blood rush through them. “So, yeah. I am so, so sorry that I wasn’t thinking. I should never have invited you to go.”
He rises then, his forehead wrinkled. “You don’t think I can handle it?”
“No. I just mean…” I twist a lock of hair around my finger, embarrassment surging through me. “I don’t know what I mean.”
“Part of recovery is being able to resist,” he says. “It might be good for me to be around that stuff.”
“You’re staying in Denver because you want to be close to rehab, right?”
“Yeah. In case I relapse. But I can’t stop living life, Diana. I’m going to be around drugs and alcohol. I have to deal. You do, don’t you?”
“I don’t touch pot,” I say. “I really hate it, to be honest. I have a drink or two, but not much.”
“Yet you can be around people who are getting shit-faced.”
“Well, yeah, but I’m not…”
“Not an addict?”
God, have I dug myself a giant hole.
I take a deep breath. “No. I mean, I hate to be so blunt, Dragon, but I’m not an addict.”
“And I am.”
“Well… Yeah. I don’t think that’s ever been an issue.”
He raises a hand in front of him. “I don’t mean it that way. I am an addict. It’s part of who I am. I can’t escape it no matter how I try, but I can control it. I can’t change who I am, but I can change how I deal with it. Just like I can’t change my past.” He stops abruptly.