Landon’s face softened. Just a bit. “Seeing you in that hospital sucked, Maxx. I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared,” he admitted gruffly. I knew talking about feelings wasn’t something he liked to do, being a teenage boy and all.
“I know, man. I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. I was... Iam... an addict.” It hurt to admit that out loud. To confirm the words he’d spat in my face, to confirm what I had denied for so long. And to my brother. The one person I had tried so hard to hide it from.
But I also felt relieved that finally, after all this time, I could admit it. Own it. Move on from it.
“So you’ve stopped, then?” Landon’s voice sounded small and it reminded me how young he really was. It reminded me of that little kid I had taken care of all those years ago.
“Yes, God, yes. But I can’t lie and say I don’t want to. Because I do. All the time. But I’m going to fight against it. Because you deserve better from me, Landon.”
Landon nodded and turned back to the television. I didn’t say anything else, not sure if I should stay or leave. Landon wasn’t giving me much to go on.
When his show was over, Landon got to his feet and I figured that was my cue to go. I was disappointed that things felt so unfinished. I couldn’t tell if Landon was willing to forgive me or not. I didn’t know if this was it. Whether I’d lost my brother for good.
Landon started to walk out of the room and then stopped, not quite turning back to me. “You wanna help me change the oil in the ’stang?” he asked, his tone noncommittal.
I felt something that was a lot like hope spark inside me. “Sure, buddy. I’d like that,” I told him, getting to my feet and following him out to the garage.
chapter
seventeen
aubrey
as far as weeks could go, I’d had better. I had been working hard to keep my nose down and focus on my schoolwork, staying late on campus to study. I went to class and then I went home, not lingering too long in between. I had to limit the chances of a run-in that would only leave me bruised and wanting.
I was walking home from class that particular afternoon, thinking about everything and nothing all at the same time. I was trying to concentrate on the stuff that mattered. School. Getting back into the counseling program. My friendships with Renee and Brooks. Anything but Maxx Demelo.
I had my eyes trained to the ground, moving quickly. I started up the steps to my apartment building, when a movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I paused and turned and then wished instantly that I hadn’t.
Tucked into the shadowed alcove between my apartment building and the shop next door were two people locked in a passionate embrace. The man had the woman pressed against the wall, her hands gripping his shoulders as he held her tightly.
He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist without once breaking the kiss that was consuming them both. My stomach rolled and I felt an inexplicable guilt as I watched the scene in front of me. Ugly emotions surfaced about my own warring emotions about Maxx.
I watched my roommate run her fingers through Devon Keeton’s short red hair and for a moment, I hated her for not being stronger. For falling right along with me. Because clearly I wasn’t the only one who was tempted to open a door that was better off left closed.
I turned my back on Renee and her ex-boyfriend and walked inside.
Renee breezed into the apartment half an hour later, a mess of hair and frenetic energy. Even if I hadn’t seen her in the alley with douchebag Devon, I would have instantly known something was up. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright, and her hands shook when she turned the lock in the door.
“Hey,” I said, going for blandly neutral.
“Hey,” Renee said back, not quite meeting my eyes like the guilty girl she was.
“Where’ve you been?” I asked, digging a bit for information, testing the waters to see whether she’d be honest and forthright.
It seemed my dear roommate and best friend opted for a renewed relationship with dishonesty and distance.
“Library,” she responded vaguely.
“Really. Did you get a lot of reading done?”Readingbeing a euphemism for dirty, wrong spit swapping.
“Yeah, I’m going to nail that microbiology test tomorrow,” she said, and if I hadn’t known she was lying I would have been fooled. She was that convincing.
“Or nail something else,” I muttered.
“Excuse me?” she asked, looking flustered.
“I saw you,” I said.
