“Pointy hat.”
“Shit.” Laken blew out a breath. “To answer your question, no, I wasn’t aware. We can figure out some ways to make—”
“We?” I tossed myself forward, meeting his gutted expression. Rolling my eyes as far as they could go, I gave a soft sigh. “Gods, Laken. There hasn’t been awefor a long time now.” I should’ve leapt across the table. My chest stung. “Tell me, Laken. How long have you known he was leaving?”
My question was met with silence.
The left side of his jaw jerked. “You were only allowed one question, remember?”
Unbelievable—but believable for him. “You’re an ass.”
Laken looked at the ground. He looked at thefuckingground. “What does it matter if I knew?”
I gasped, a bit of a scoff, at his insincerity. Gritting my teeth, my breath felt hot like a dragon. “If it didn’t matter, you wouldn’t be getting defensive.”
Laken didn’t move. He didn’t speak. I tried to search those dark, dangerous eyes for something. I tried to watch fora nervous quiver, a bite of his lip, an avoidance of eye contact, but nothing came. And that somehow hurt worse.
“You could’ve written. You could’ve come and told me. You could’ve done something—”
He interrupted me. “He didn’t want you to know, Reece.”
He didn’t want me to know.
They never wanted me to know.
No longer able to read him, I didn’t know what to think. To feel. It was just me, alone, in the moment. The music blew around us, yet I didn’t hear it. I knew I needed a moment to collect myself. I knew I shouldn’t have opened my mouth, but because I’m me, I did anyway.
“I deserved to know, Laken. He could be gone for months, years,” I said. “I deserved to know he was leaving. I deserved a warning. I deserved something before my whole life changed!” My voice grew gritty, and I forgot there were people around us.
Laken scoffed. From under his brows, he met my stare. “This isn’t about your father, is it?”
Time stopped. Our eyes met in a deadly stare, and I felt like my skin had been rubbed raw. His gaze alone could reopen my healed wounds once again, peeling away at each layer of skin I’d made thick. I should’ve hated him for it.
I think I might’ve.
“You could’ve written me this time. You could’ve written me back then.” My heart raced, running rapid with emotions I couldn’t explain. Emotions I didn’t want to explain, and hell, didn’t want to feel. “You could’ve tried. You could’ve—”
“I did.”
His tone, sharp and quick, ended any train of thought I’d had. His words stabbed me in the gut like the beak of a hellblazer—piercing and burning. I never received letters,
I never heard from him.
“I couldn’t make myself send them,” he explained. “But I wrote you.” His eyes watered, furious and bitter. “Every time I thought of you. Every time it rained. And every time I wished things were different.” He paused, out of breath.
Fine.
I stood as a roll of thunder shook the entire pub. I thanked the Gods above and below for giving me a reason to go home. Heavy rain poured onto the roof; flashes of lightning pulled my attention in different directions as the drunken crowd swarmed to the door. Leaving Laken behind me, I joined them, squeezing through and stopping under what little cover the awning offered.
He followed behind.Gods damn it—we’re neighbors.My eyes fluttered to the back of my head. This could not be worse, walking home together in the rain. I’d read enough romance novels to know better.
“I can cover us with my coat.” His voice traveled down my spine. “You don’t have to get soaked, you know.”
“I don’t mind it. Just a drizzle,” I yelled through thepouringrain.
Thunder cracked. Lightning shocked, and the rain—to my luck—fully unleashed itself upon the world. My hair slicked down my skin. My shirt clung to me well enough toshow all of my curves and crevices. I waited for him to catch up, and once he did, I hesitantly squeezed under the coat he held above.
“Just a drizzle, huh?” Laken mocked, but I’m sure he felt plenty satisfied with how this had turned out.
