His eyes search my face, dropping to the glass and emptying the last of the flask into it. “You look like you enjoy it a lot more than I did.”
The same old rebuttals surge into my mouth but my lips act as gatekeepers, fencing them inside.
“Oh, hey.” He takes the drink and sets it on a nearby table, thrusting a small box into my hand. I frown at it, the alcohol already giving my head a small buzz. “I keep forgetting to give these back to you.”
My smile drops away.
It’s the box for my mother’s rings. Theemptybox.
I stare blankly at it, wondering if this is a trick to embarrass me somehow. Like he’ll make me open it, hoping to see the expression of disappointment when I find it bare.
He doesn’t seem cruel but judging by his father, he has the capacity to be exactly that.
Joke’s on you. My heart already broke over this.
The box is still worth something to me, even if the precious items inside are long gone. I flip it open to get it over with, already anticipating Lachlan’s low chuckle, but it doesn’t come.
Instead, I stare at Mum’s engagement ring and wedding band. I take out the latter, tilting it to see the inscription along the inner seam: her and dad’s names. My nose tingles, tears springing out of nowhere.
You must have been wrong. They weren’t missing. You were stressed. You don’t remember what you saw.
Except I do. Even if I forgot what I saw, I’ll always remember the agonising rush of betrayal that followed.
“I meant to give them back to you earlier, but things got a bit strange there.”
“Thank you.” The words are inadequate but when I try to think of something more to express my gratitude, I become tongue tied.
He chucks me under the chin, mouth twisting into a wicked grin. “Now head back inside to your date and look miserable again.”
I made a mistake. That’s all that thrums in my head. I made a mistake.
Lachlan doesn’t know I saw the empty box, and he’s not telling me now. The gesture isn’t to win brownie points with me, he’s just doing something nice because he can.
He’s happy to let me go back to the table, back to another boy, when seeing me with Keanen must break him apart. The same way it does when I see him with Kari.
I thought avoiding him would do the trick. Put him out of bounds and get on with my life, but it hasn’t worked. If anything, I dream about him twice as hard.
“How do I…?” I blink, desperate not to shed any tears because it I do, I’ll never be able to stop them. “What would happen if I told you I regretted what I said?”
“I’d ask what on earth did you say because if you’ve been talking shit about me behind my back, you definitely deserve a spanking.”
I try to smile, ease into the comfortable banter, but the edges of my heart are sharp, when I move, they poke into me. “I’m sorry. I don’t care if you have a girlfriend. I mean… well, I care. Obviously. But I don’t…”
My hand hurts and when I glance down, I see I’m crushingthe ring box in my fist. I force my fingers to relax, blinking rapidly.
Lachlan puts a hand on my hair, the touch featherlight. “I already told you once how I feel, George. It’s not going to change. If you want me, all you have to do is ask.”
I clench my jaw, so torn that it hurts just to stand there. “And if I asked you, how would that w-work? Kari said—”
“Kari doesn’t have to know. As long as word doesn’t reach her father or mine, we’re free to do whatever we want.”
This is lunacy.
We’re literally standing here, discussing how I can be hidden away, plausibly denied. I’m participating in my own eradication, yet I can’t say no. Not again. Not when he’s the only boy I ever think about, the only one to have a starring role in every late-night finger-licking-good fantasy.
“I want you.”
The pressure of his hand against my hair increases, then he strokes half of it away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “Show me.”
