I shrugged. “I was desperate. It helped.”
“How’d you get it?”
I blew out a long breath and let my memory pull me back to that spring semester. “During a late-night cram session, the words on the page started swimming after I’d read the same paragraph four times. My classmate asked me if I was okay. I remember shaking my head and telling him I was screwed. He pushed an orange pill toward me, saying, ‘I got you.’”
I rubbed sweaty palms against my thighs, my fingers splayed.
“I took it—stupid, I know—but thirty minutes later, the fog lifted, and the words made sense. I wrote twelve pages that night and still managed to make it to morning swim. My hands shook through warm-ups, but I’d done it. So I found Caleb again the next week. And the week after that.”
I forced myself to hold his gaze. I wasn’t ashamed necessarily, but I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t known I was playing a risky game.
“That’s all it was?” Taylor's voice was soft, his eyes never leaving mine. Searching for the lie, maybe.
I closed the armoire door, shutting away the rows of tiny bottles, and straightened my shoulders. “Yeah. That’s all. Why, what did you think?”
His jaw worked for a moment. “Honestly?”
I braced myself, knowing from his expression that I wasn’t going to like his answer. And yet …
“Yes, honestly.”
“Coke,” he said flatly.
“Fuck no. Definitely not. I tried it once during our sophomore year. Hated the way it made me feel.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly. “That’s good, I suppose.”
After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few seconds, I asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you found all that stuff?”
The hurt in his expression was unmistakable. “Probably for the same reason you never told me you needed it. I kept waiting for you to confide in me. Thought we were close enough that you would. But you never did, so I figured …” He lifted one shoulder, then let it drop. “Maybe I didn’t know you as well as I thought.”
I tipped my head back, pinching the bridge of my nose. I blew out a long breath before looking at him again. “There were a lot of things we should have talked about back then. We can’t go back and do things over, but we can talk now.”
The corner of his mouth pulled up into a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Okay. Let’s start with your job.”
My stomach dropped.
I’d known this conversation was coming. I had been dreading it since the moment Taylor sat down beside me in the bar downstairs.
I just hadn’t expected to feel this raw and exposed when it finally arrived.
CHAPTER 5
TAYLOR
The air conditionerkicked on with a tired rattle, filling the silence. Sebastian moved to the window, putting distance between us, while I claimed the small couch in the corner. Talking—clearing the air after all these years—was the new priority.
“I’m guessing you saw that picture of me at my parents’ house, standing next to that asshole Garrett Lindsey?” He glanced back at me, misery written across his face, and I nodded. “Yeah, well. I threw up in my mom’s hydrangeas an hour later.”
“Why do you put yourself through that?”
“Why else?” Sebastian asked, lifting his shoulder in a weary shrug.
“Your dad?”
The only time Sebastian and I had ever really argued was about his family. He’d once told me I couldn’t possibly understand what it was like growing up in the Carruthers household, and I believed him. His parents were awful, his dad especially so.
Sebastian nodded and blew out a long breath. “After graduation, he had me on a pretty tight leash, working for oneof his friends. I only lasted a year before I told him I was done, and like an arrogant little shit, started my own consulting firm. I know my name opened doors that shouldn’t have been opened to me, but it turned out I’m really good at what I do. He mostly stopped interfering.”
