A server comes toward us holding a tray with long flutes with bubbly liquid. “Champagne?”
Lana shakes her head, her hand holding my bicep tightening. “No, thank you,” she says, and he goes on to other guests. “I’ve never been somewhere with champagne on a tray before.” She bounces her eyebrows. “Your job is kind of fancy.”
I snort. “I still wonder how no one knows what I do for work.”
Lana laughs. “Information systems and cybersecurity. I’m pretty sure I'm the only one who does.”
“None of the guys do,” I mumble.
“That’s because they don’t care about the job or the money, baby. They care about you—theirfriend.”
I nod. I know she’s right. They’ve never asked for favors or handouts like most people have. I have friends, I haveLana—and they’re my family. The best and most real people I’m lucky to be surrounded by.
I’m beginning to think that coming back to New York for this was the biggest mistake. But I try to push that out of my head because Lana’s hand is wrapped around my bicep and I’ve got the most gorgeous girl in the world on my arm. I’m not one to show off, aside from the McLaren maybe, but Lana? Fuck, I want to build her a solid gold pedestal and a throne to match just so I can kneel before her.
She humbles me because I don’t know what I have done in this lifetime… Nothing I’ve ever done warrantedthis—having her in my life and having the privilege to love her the way I do. And for her to love me back?
I suppose life is one big joke sometimes, isn’t it?
One day you’re in rehab after overdosing on something you can’t remember taking, getting your stomach pumped, and then you’re…healed. Orhealing.
It doesn’t happen like a miracle or over night, and isn’t a prayer that’s answered because healing doesn’t happen that easily. It never does. The path of healing is a rollercoaster. It’s climbing mountains, rolling down them, then climbing back up with no rope or harness—just bare, blistered hands pulling you up.
I’ve climbed that mountain. And I’ll keep climbing that mountain, with her by my side, screaming,you can do it. And I will do it.
“Are you okay?” Lana reaches up and kisses my jaw. “You look like you’re thinking too much.”
I nod, swallow thickly, and walk further into the party. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Are you sure? We can show our faces, say hello, and go home to watchThe Office,” she says.
I shake my head. “No, baby, it’s okay. We’ll stay for a bit.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, babe, I’m sure.”
Lana squeezes my arm.
“Do you want something to drink from the bar?” I ask in her ear.
She releases my arm and pats my chest once with her hand. “I’ll go.”
“Lana.” My hand falls to the small of her back and wraps around her. “I can go. I trust myself.”
“And I trust you,” Lana says, “but that isn’t why I was going to go. I didn’t want to make you be social if you didn’t feel like it.”
I huff a quiet laugh and lead us toward a cocktail table. “It’s okay, I’ll go.”
“Okay.” She gives me a small, loving smile. Then it falters. “Um…maybe, wine, please?”
I brush my lips across her temple. “I’ll be right back.”
My track to the bar is dreadful. The alcohol gets closer and closer, but I have Lana waiting for me by the table we’ve claimed. I’m not drinking. There is no way I’m drinking. I’ve made that decision, and I have power over it.
I rest my arm on the bar and wait for one of the bartenders to finish with the drink they are currently mixing. My fingers tap on the smooth, waxed wood, impatiently itching to latch onto my girl and hold her close.
“Christian,” an old familiar voice calls out. I turn to find Thayer Montgomery, one of the four siblings ofManhattan’s “royal family.” I’ll admit, I’m rich, but the Montgomery’s?Filthy rich. “I was hoping you’d come back to the city soon.”
