Together.
His words sat in my heart, a vise and an embrace at the same time. I wasn’t sure there had ever been a together with me and anyone.
It had been me against the world for as long as I could remember. Ironically, it was the only thing I definitelycouldremember.
Me and I.
Me and my anxieties, demanding my attention.
Me and my demons, clawing at my ankles, holding me back from really, truly, living.
But me and someone else? Never. Me and Winder? I didn’t even want to get my hopes up.
“Together,” I repeated. “As in, together, together?”
Winder smiled, a crooked grin that hitched my chest in the same direction. “Unless there’s another definition oftogetherI don’t know about.”
I chewed on my lip, debating if this was a road I wanted to travel down, or if I even had a choice. After my walking nightmare in the kitchen, it sure felt like time was running out. “I guess I’m kind of out of options, aren’t I?”
If I hadn’t just seen his true smile, I would’ve missed the slip of the muscle, the twitch that gave away something he was trying to hide. “If you’re asking if this is your best option to getting your life back to normal, then, yes. I think the answers we’re looking for will be at this party, and then you can go back to your perfect little apartment, and your wonderful job, and your life where nothing bad ever happens.”
Shit. I didn’t mean it like that. “Winder, I?—”
Winder shook his head. “Save it. Get some rest. I’ll go find you something more appropriate to wear, we can make an appearance at this party later, and hopefully your life will be back to normal by tomorrow.”
He ducked out of the room, and I was left squeezing my hands. Guilt already trickled in through my pores, thinking about the disappointment crossing his face. I hadn’t meant to imply I didn’t want to be seen with him, but I should’ve realized the impact my words would have. I was an idiot. A big, giant, idiot with fucked up dreams, who probably didn’t deserve the supposedly “perfect” life Winder thought I had. Didn’t he know perfect was nothing more than a disguise, covering a patchwork soul and a rotting heart?
The minutes inched past, all the while, my guilt ran rampant over what I’d said to Winder. There was no point in looking for him. Even if I found him, he’d just be even more pissed I left his room.
Instead I sat, staring at the ceiling, wallowing in the words I should’ve never said, overthinking everything I’d ever said. Every stupid word out of my mouth had been a mistake. Whatever he thought was perfection was nothing more than a flimsy illusion, no better at covering the grime than his cheap curtains.
Right as I was about to give up on him ever coming back, I heard his telltale heavy footsteps approaching once more. I held my breath.
He reappeared in the doorway, holding a swatch of green fabric. “Here. It’s the best I can do, and I can’t vouch for its cleanliness, either.”
“Winder, I’m sorry,” I rushed the words out before he could cut me off again.
“Don’t. Seriously, Blaire. Don’t worry about it. I get it. You have your life, and I have mine. Our paths just happened to cross for a minute. I’ll help you out, and then you’ll never see me again.” He met my gaze, but it was distant, a wall building between us, negating any “us” there might have been.
“Okay,” I whispered. I wanted to say more, but now wasn’t the time. He wouldn’t listen, anyway. I took the offered fabric—a small dress by the looks of it.
“I’ll be out here when you’re ready.” He closed the door behind him.
I clutched the dress to my chest, trying to hold myself together. One stupid slip of the tongue. Was that really all it took to push him away? Unless there was something else going on, something I didn’t see. I tossed Winder’s clothes to one side, and pulled the dress over my head.
Okay, itwassmall. Really small. The hem barely covered my ass, leaving most of my legs on display, and the scooped neckline dipped lower than I was normally comfortable with. There was a lot of skin everywhere. I chewed on a cuticle, stress pinging through my body. I could put the sweats back on, but I had a feeling Winder wouldn’t normally show up to a party with a girl dressed in sweatpants. I could not go to the party at all, and leave Winder to go solo, but he seemed pretty insistent I should be there.Shit.
“Blaire.” Winder opened the door without knocking. “We really need to get a move on. What’s the hold up?”
He pushed the door wide, and froze. His eyes darkened, and the hand resting on the doorknob clenched into a tight fist. I waited for him to say something, but he was silent.
Double shit. I knew it was all wrong. “I don’t have to go. I’ll stay here. You’ll probably be more successful without me.”
“No.” Winder clenched his jaw, and turned out of the room. “Let’s go.”
The running shoes I left the house in were my only shoes, so I slipped those back on before following. Walking in the dress without flashing anything was awkward. I tried to keep up with Winder to the front door, even as discontent grew in my stomach. We were back to distance, one word answers, and tension, simply because he thought I was happier in my life that he thought was perfect. I hated the space, and I was annoyed at myself, but I was just as irritated with him for not listening for two seconds so I could explain.
Winder pushed through the crowd on the steps that never seemed to leave. The first person I passed grabbed my wrist, whistling.
