“You guys are my best friends,” I quietly admit. “I’ve never had friends I’m as close to as you two.”
Susa gets up, walks over to the couch, and sits in my lap before I can even process what she’s doing. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Owen,” she says as she drapes her arms around me.
“Yeah?” My pulse explodes. I’m not sure what to do with this, or with her sitting on my lap. I hope I’m not required to stand for a few minutes because my boner will be struggling for freedom for a while.
“You guys are my best friends, too.” She plays with my hair. Not the first time she’s done that, and I love it when she does. “I trust both of you, and that’s something I haven’t had in a long time. It’s like I can see the three of us together, years from now, just like this.”
“Until some guy sweeps you away from us,” Carter adds.
I’m looking right at her and know from the way she’s staring at him that her next words are for him, and him alone.
“No one will ever take me away from you.”
The silence settles around us for a moment, then she looks at me and kisses me on the forehead. “No one’s ever taking me away from you guys. I promise.” She smiles and plays with my hair again. “God help any woman who thinks she’ll take you guys away from me, either.”
I know she means those words for Carter, but I’ll take what I can get and feel grateful for it.
* * * *
Saturday seems to drag. We start the morning with a run at a blistering pace that I know has to be killing Carter, but also forces me to focus on the impacts of my feet against the pavement and not face-planting into an oncoming car.
Although the thought of seeing dear ole Mom right now is inducing enough anxiety in me that I kind of want to face-plant into a car.
It’d be a lot more fun.
Probably a lot less painful.
But the pace of the run forces me to pull my focus inward. In other words—mission accomplished. I’m not thinking about my mother or our impending drive to Orlando later that afternoon.
Or the hell that awaits me there.
Not until we return to the dorm and Carter sends me into the shower first. I stand there under the water with my face pressed against the cool tile and crying like I was ten again and terrified to so much as breathe too loudly for fear of drawing my mother’s attention and accompanying wrath.
And wishing I knew how to get her to love me.
How to make her just.
Fucking.
Loveme.
Simultaneously, I’m hating myself for still wanting and needing that, even now. Hoping that particular need doesn’t poison the well of every goddamned relationship in my life, including my ones with Carter and Susa. I’d deserve it if they ended up together and froze me out because I’m too needy, too clingy.
Because I’m too much work.
Which were things Mom used to snipe at me about when we were alone at home, and all I wanted was a little of her fucking time.
I was too much work.
I was too needy and clingy.
I needed to learn to be independent, make something of myself on my own.
That she couldn’t carry me throughout my life.
That if I was going to be a man, I’d need to learn to act like one.
That if I wasn’t careful, I’d end up worthless, like my father.
