I visibly see Olivia straighten at Ellie’s words and I try to ignore the slice of pain that hits my chest.
Do I love her? I don’t even need to think about it. I do, and I think I’ve known it for a while, but it’s clear she isn’t there yet. I might have broken our little keep-it-causal rule by falling for her, but she shouldn’t have made it so damn easy.
I pocket my phone. “I should get going.”
I don’t like leaving Pacey by herself for too long. I’m acting like an overbearing parent, I know, but I can’t stop. After the shit she told me about Ryan not wanting her to get clean and trying to control her, I don’t like letting her out of my sight. Not to mention my suspicions about how she really got that black eye.
“Okay.”
I kiss Olivia’s forehead before walking to the door to slip my shoes on. “I’ll call you later.” Before I leave, I turn around. “You better answer.”
She nods sheepishly.
Pacey is lying on the couch, watching TV, when I get home.
“Hey,” she says, sitting up and making room for me to sit. “Where were you all night?”
“At Olivia’s… my girl… my friend’s.” Fuck, I don’t even know what to call her. I didn’t think the label mattered that much to me, but apparently, it does. I want her to be mine in every way, not just in my bed.
“Friend?” Pacey purses her lips. “Well, tell me more about her. Besides the fact that she has a super cool bestie who goes to bat for her if she thinks her ‘friend’s friend’ is seeing other girls.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m fighting a grin.
“What’s she like? Can I meet her?”
“Maybe. She’s smart and sweet, a little stubborn but also insanely talented and—what?” I ask, noting her strange expression.
“You love her,” she says simply.
“Uh, what?” How’d she come up with that so fast?
“Don’t you?”
I sigh, dropping my head in my hands. Am I that damn obvious?
She pats my back. “Your eyes got all soft the minute you started talking about her. I’ve never seen you like that before.”
I don’t know how she does it, but Pacey has always been able to read me, and we’ve always been able to communicate with each other with just a look. It’s like we had this twin sense, but despite our similar dark hair, blue eyes, and the matching names our parents gave us, we’re not twins. After all this time apart, I’m relieved to know she doesn’t hate me. Even when she should.
“Pace, I’m so fucking sorry. I’ve been the worst brother.”
Her eyes widen. “What? No, you haven’t.”
“I have. Christ, the shit I said to you before, it’s no wonder you were ignoring my calls for so long. It’s no wonder you?—”
“Penn.” She scoots closer to me. “Look at me when I say this.”
I do, and she continues.
“Yes, you said something hurtful, but you were hurting too. I knew you didn’t mean it. Grief does funny things to us. What you said didn’t cause me to make the choices I made. That wasn’t even the reason I was ignoring you and Mom. I did that because I was ashamed of who I’d become. Every time I talked to you or saw Mom, it was a reminder of how bad I’d let things get. How I wasn’t the person I wanted to be—how disappointed Dad would be.”
“Pacey.”
She shakes her head. “It’s true. I promised myself I’d get clean before I came back because I didn’t want to bring you guys into my mess. I’m sorry that you’ve been carrying this guiltaround, but I promise you it’s misplaced.” She squeezes my hand. “You’ve always been the best big brother.”
Tears well up in her eyes, and I pull her under my arm. I let her cry for a minute, then I try to shift the mood with better news. “We’re going on tour.”
She perks up. “A tour? Penn, that’s amazing!”
