“Or do you want me to keep insulting you until you crack?” Griffin adds.
This isn’t unusual—the banter.
Because this is what they know me for. Even with knowing my past, I keep the rest hidden from the world. On purpose. Because this? I like this. I like joking back and forth until we all smile and laugh. I like being the reason people smile and laugh around me.
Because of that…I huff a quiet breath. “You’re very supportive.”
“I’m a gift,” Griffin says, hand to his chest.
Dallas places a hand on my shoulder. “Now, talk.”
I glance past Griffin at the bottles lining the wall, but I can see the way Griffin’s shoulders go still, like he’s bracing for whatever I might admit out loud.
And it’s fucking weird.
I’ve been carrying it for so long myself that I don’t know what it sounds like outside of my own head. It felt different talking to Scottie about it in the comfort of my own home.
“I’m not…” I clear my throat. “I’m not good. I haven’t been for a while.”
Dallas doesn’t flinch or try to fix it. He just nods in understanding because he recently allowed me to open up on the anniversary of the house fire after a little league game we had.
“No shit,” Griffin says flatly.
I shoot him a pointed look. “You’re supposed to be comforting.”
“I am. I’m just doing it in my tone.”
I shake my head, feeling my shoulders relax a bit. This was exactly the response I didn’t know I needed from him. Griffin is there, but in the way he knows I will respond to better.
When I don’t answer, his jaw tightens. “How bad was it, Tucker?”
I hesitate even though the memory of it is so fresh. My body feels tense remembering the way my lungs refused to breathe for me, the way my body shook like it didn’t belong to me, and the sickening panic like I was falling from the second story all over again.
“The darkest it’s ever been,” I say, barely loud enough for them to hear.
But they do.
They hear every word.
Dallas pauses with his glass halfway to his lips, and Griffin’s hand stills on the towel he was just using to wipe his hands.
“Tucker,” Griffin breathes out.
“Why didn’t you call us?” Dallas says almost at the same time.
I shake my head. “I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to even think logically. I knew I couldn’t be alone. I knew I needed something. The closest person was Scottie.”
Both of their features soften, bodies relaxing. Neither of them look surprised.
I can almost feel it again now.
My head on her shoulder and the way she held me.
Her hands on my face, anchoring me.
The way she didn’t ask questions.
“She stayed with me,” I continue. “She didn’t ask questions or run.”
