Which means I need to get the hell away from him.
Right now.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you there,” I throw out, then instantly regret it.
Why did you say that?
I don’t even know if I’m definitely going.
Yes, you are. Jed and Tobin made you promise! And Nix wants to see you.
She’s seemed brighter the few times I’ve talked to her, and I did say I’d be there.
Shit. Why did I say that?
Maybe I could just fake a sickie or?—
You want to go! You know you do!
“Guess you will.” Reef’s scathing look is enough to make me want to bail. My friends will get it. I so don’t have to be there.
But you do. And you know why.
I haven’t let myself admit it yet, but there’s that feeling again, bubbling and brewing… begging on its knees for me to wake up and acknowledge it.
“Later,” Reef mutters before turning to walk away.
Yuck. That conversation was… anything but pleasant. Reef couldn’t have been more obvious if he tried. He blames me for Atlas’s death.
But he was there too. The memory is obviously still pretty fresh for the guy. Why didn’t I challenge him on it? I should have asked him why he didn’t keep Atlas safe that night, why he didn’t check on his friend, who he obviously still misses. He wouldn’t be so dark toward me otherwise.
Shit, the guy will be at the after-party.
I shudder, making a mental note to stay as close to Jed and Tobin as I possibly can. Nix is pretty feisty too, so she’ll be an asset. I’ll just surround myself with them, and everything will be fine.
As I close my car door, I grip the wheel, my mind shifting to Tyrell.
The instinct to pull out my phone and text him about who I just saw is strong. He’d know Reef. He used to hang with Atlasand his band buddies. He was their personal bodyguard. Black Jack.
“Oh shit,” I whimper, resting my forehead against the wheel and letting myself feel that aching cavity in my chest.
I spend most of my days trying to ignore it, but right now, I let it grow and pulse and burn.
“I miss you,” I whisper.
And a big part of me really hopes he’s at that concert, because I want him by my side at that after-party. Watching over me. Keeping me safe.
More than that, though… I just want to see him again. I want to study his smile and listen to his deep voice. I want to lean against his side and enjoy the feeling of his arm enveloping me.
Are you sure you want to stay single for the rest of your life?
The question taunts me, and I sit back with a loud sniff, wiping my cheeks as if tears have fallen. But none have. My face is as dry as my heart right now.
Doubts curl through me, winding around my rib cage, crawling into my chest and making it tight and uncomfortable.
The truth is, I can cope on my own. That road trip proved it.
And now the question I have to answer is… do I really want to?
