“Aimee.”
Her eyelashes fluttered and fat tears pooled over the bottom ones, but her gaze focused and her eyes met mine.
“I want to take you skiing.”
“Skiing?” her voice was detached and broken, and I brushed her hair back out of her face.
“Yeah,” I said softly, “As an apology and to show you some of my favorite places. Just you and me. All bundled up, out on the slopes—no one will recognize us and we can just be free.”
“Skiing,” she repeats.
“Yes,” I chuckled. “Skiing. How does that sound?”
My hand was still cupping the side of her face—I hadn’t realized I’d left it there. It felt natural to touch her in this way, to give her comfort.
She swallowed, “Okay.”
“Yeah?” I asked, trying to sound enthusiastic, without over doing and sounding like a weirdo.
She nodded and wiped her eyes again. I opened my mouth to tell her when we’d go, but the door opened and Aimee immediately cowered in on herself again. I readied to lash out at whichever asshole it would be this time, but a quick glance over my shoulder had me standing down.
“It’s just your brother,” I said.
“Aimee!” He called out, voice a little panicked.
His footsteps quickened when he saw her.
I helped her to her feet and was surprised when she didn’t pull away. Her chin was back being tucked to her chest, herhands still clenched in front of her. I bent down to pick up her phone and when I glanced up, I caught a peek at her expression.
Sad.
So incredibly sad.
Her eyes were rimmed red, glassy and vacant. I wanted nothing more than to be the thing thatneverput that expression on her face again. I’d fumbled about meeting her again. I knew that, and I double messed up when I showed up unannounced. But I would be damned if I ever made her feel like those assholes had.
“What happened? Her brother asked, his hands reaching for her.
Aimee tucked herself closer into my side, and Orion eyed me warily. He didn’t know me, and it was probably a good thing that he was being level headed despite his panic.
“Aimee?”
This time his eyes met mine, and I told him.
CHAPTER 13
aimee
I’d somehow forgottenhow bright the lights were in here. The fluorescents—harsh and unforgiving, incessantly buzzing in a way that slipped into my brain and threatened to drive me crazy. It was all too loud, too bright—just…too much. I didn’t want to be here, to feel how the carpet of the lounge squished underfoot, or how the smell of concession food permeated the air. Or how footsteps echoed on the linoleum floors.
I especially didn’t want to hear the laughing and joking go silent as I walked by. I didn’t want to see the sorrow and pity on people’s faces—people who probably didn’t even know Asher—who probably just felt sorry for me.
Or blamed me.
There were a lot of those people these days.
There are the ones who typed nasty words and said them to my face in passing.
There are the ones who posted memes.
