“I’m sorry, Renee,” I said quietly.
She gave me a wan smile and straightened her shoulders. “Don’t be. It was a lesson I had to learn all over again, I suppose. But I can tell you one thing, I’m not letting my heart do the talking ever again.”
She seemed so resolute. So sure her heart had led her astray. “Your heart won’t always be wrong,” I told her softly.
I thought my heart had loved the wrong person. But instead, ithad led me home.
chapter
thirty-two
maxx
ididn’t think about what lying to Aubrey meant.
I couldn’t.
I hadn’t started my day thinking it would end with my deceit.
That I’d be perilously close to backsliding into my old life, my old world.
I had spent my morning at work and felt good when I had received higher than average tips. Sure, it wouldn’t cover the cost of my rent, but it was a good start. I still had the thousand bucks from club scouting sitting in my bank account and planned to scout again next week. It was a decent job, and I was trying to stay optimistic about it.
If I was able to scout and not actually go to the club, then I didn’t necessarily feel like I was keeping anything from Aubrey. I couldn’t tell her about it, because I knew it would only worry her.
But in the back of my mind, Gash’sotheroffer was a tantalizing possibility. As was the envelope of pills I still kept hidden in the back of my closet.
I was feeling somewhat upbeat, given my recent bout of pessimism.
And then my brother came for a visit.
“Landon! What are you doing here?” I asked, opening the door to him.
In all the years I had lived in my dinky apartment, Landon had never been by for a visit. And that had been completely intentional.
I had worked really damn hard to keep Landon away from the shit in my life. I never wanted him to see how I lived. But there was no point in keeping up pretenses anymore.
Landon came inside and looked around. “This is where you live?” he asked.
“Yeah, it is. Welcome to Casa de Maxx,” I said wryly. I felt mildly ashamed when I saw the barely disguised look of disgust on his face.
“It’s kind of ghetto,” he observed.
“Yeah, well, the rent is cheap. So, did you come by to criticize my interior decorating skills?” I asked lightly, trying not to get pissed by my brother’s comment.
Landon stopped snooping and sat down on my couch, pulling some brochures out of his backpack. “Well, I’ve been talking to my guidance counselor more about art school. You remember me talking about that with you, right?” he asked with an edge to his voice.
I knew what he was thinking. Did I remember or had I been too high to hear him?
“Yeah, I remember,” I said a touch defensively, sitting down beside him.
He handed me a pile of glossy paper. “Well, these are brochures from three of my top picks. I was wondering if you’d look at them with me.” He sounded kind of angry as he asked me. “You know, because I don’t have anyone else to really ask. None of my friends want to hear about art school, and even though David is less of an asshole, he’s still an asshole.”
“And I was your choice by default,” I said. Damn this kid and his ability to wound me. It made me want to shake him senseless.
Landon rubbed his forehead in an agitated gesture. “Yeah—” Then he looked at my face. “No, actually,” he admitted grudgingly. “I wanted to look at this stuff with you. To get your opinion. Because even though you’re a lying sack of shit, you’re still my brother,” he mumbled petulantly.
“Wow, you sure know how to sweet-talk a fellow,” I deadpanned.
