Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“I’m going to play this for him tomorrow.” Her stomach rumbles, and she giggles, covering it with her hands. “We’ve been at this forever. I’m starved. Wanna grab some dinner?”
“You don’t have plans?” I glance at the huge rock on her left-hand, trying to keep the bitterness and jealousy out of my words, but it’s hard, so damn hard, wanting a woman I can’t have.
“Kyle’s working late.” She forces a smile, and I want to ask if she’s sure he’s really the one, but I bite my tongue because it’s not my place to ask. Because we’re only friends. Because I’ve been friend-zoned.
“I’m not in the mood for being in the public eye tonight, but if you want to come over, I can cook us something.”
She beams, and it takes everything in me not to beg her to dump the fool who’d rather spend his night at work than with the woman he’s supposed to be in love with. “That sounds perfect.”
Since it’s late, we lock up the studio behind us and head out. Gage and I are renting an apartment just up the street, which was our goal when finding a place, but Kendall and I can’t go anywhere on foot without security. So we jump into her waiting SUV, and her driver takes us to my place, leaving us at the elevator in the underground garage.
We’re talking about the snowstorm that’s supposed to be arriving in the next couple of days as we walk into my place. It’s quiet, and I assume Gage is sleeping since I don’t hear any of his loud music playing.
“I’m going to light the grill and see if Gage wants to join us. Want to pour us some wine?”
Kendall nods, and I hand her the bottle and opener, then search for Gage, hoping he’ll agree. He’s sunk low lately, and I’m worried about him.
I knock and, when he doesn’t answer, crack the door open so I can check on him—make sure he doesn’t just have his headphones on and can’t hear me. Sometimes, unless I force him to eat, he doesn’t give a shit enough to feed himself.
He’s lying on the bed, and I’m about to assume he’s sleeping as I originally suspected, but then the light hits him in such a way that I do a double take. He’s still, too fucking still. The worst feeling comes over me, and I rush over to him, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Gage. Gage!” I shake him, but he doesn’t move. “Fuck! Kendall!” I yell. “Call for an ambulance.”
Everything from that point on is a blur. The paramedics, ambulance, hospital, doctors, nurses. They manage to save him but make it clear it was a close call. Too close. Had Kendall not been hungry… had we not gotten to the apartment when we did… had I not checked on him… He’d be dead.
But she was, and we did, and I did, and he’s alive… If you can call it that. Thankfully, there was no brain damage or long-lasting effects. He’s been an addict since the summer after our senior year, and we’ve ignored it. We should’ve forced him to get help sooner, but he was functioning, and when we brought up him getting help, he shot us down. We didn’t want to push him away, so we let it go until he almost died.
Now he’s agreed to get help, so that’s where he is… getting help.
And Braxton’s living with his girlfriend, Kaylee.
And Camden’s married with two kids.
And that leaves me here, alone. Well, not alone. Right now, Kendall’s here with me… But later, she’ll go home to her fiancé, and then I’ll be alone again.
“What are you doing here anyway?”
Kendall’s gaze shifts, and she pours another shot. “Same thing as you.” She throws her drink back and shakes her head, wincing as the whiskey goes down. “Trying to drown my problems at the bottom of a bottle.”
My eyes stay trained on her for several seconds, and when it’s clear she isn’t going to talk about whatever is wrong, I shrug because I know how she feels. The last thing I want to do tonight is talk. So instead of pushing the topic, I grab the bottle, pour us both a double shot, and raise my glass.
“To drowning our problems.”
She clinks her glass against mine. “To forgetting the world exists.”
We swallow back our drinks, and then I pour us another one. We do this a few more times before the bar music turns up—the game on the television has finished—and Kendall slides off the seat.
“Let’s dance!” She’s loud in the quiet bar, but since it’s not too busy, only a few people glance over before minding their own business.
Nobody’s dancing… There’s not even a dance floor, but Kendall doesn’t seem to care as she extends her hand and bats her long lashes at me, waiting for me to join her.