I grab us both some water, meandering into the living room, and turning on the gas fireplace. We both take a seat on the couch, and he runs through everything he found out from his friend, Chevy—which, granted, isn’t a whole lot, but at the same time, it’s enough to piece together what could be happening.
What I’m not prepared for is the rush of overwhelming sadness that washes over me as I hear it all. I’ve written my folks off. Many years ago, I mourned the loss of my parents who were very much still alive, but for all intents and purposes, inmylife, they were as good as dead. I always knew there would come a time when I’d hear about news like this, and I was absolutely, one hundred percent positive I wouldn’t care. Was so sure there wouldn’t even be a single ounce of emotion about the news.
I’m realizing right now how wrong I was.
And I fucking hate myself for that. I hate myself for caring, and I hate them even more for being able to elicit such a strong response for them after everything they put me through. Sure, they were never physically abusive, but the abuse they spewed with their words was far worse than any damage a fist could’ve made. The effects much longer lasting.
We’re quiet for a while, Josiah giving me the time and space I need to process what he’s told me. The fire crackles, the heat from it wafting over to us. It feels nice, but it’s making me even more tired than I already was. Even with all this new information, all I want to do is climb into my bed and pass the fuck out, forget all this shit even happened.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Josiah speaks. “I want you to know, if you decide to go back there to find out what’s going on and say your peace…” He clears his throat, his hand finding my ankle and holding it. “I’ll go with you. You obviously don’t have to, and I’d respect it if you didn’t want to—hell, I wouldn’t even blame you—but I would just hate for you to not go, and end up regretting it later. So, if you do, I’ll come with you.”
His selfless offer hits me right in the fucking gut. Pressure builds behind my eyes, and I try to blink it away, but it doesn’t work. I just spent the last two weeks being pointlessly shitty to Josiah, and instead of being understandably pissed at me, he’s sitting here, on my couch, in the middle of the night, offering to go back to our god-awful hometown with me so I don’t have to face this alone.
I feel way too cut open and raw right now. I’m afraid if I look over at him, I’ll do something fucking ridiculous like cry, but I have to. Glancing over at him, my vision goes a little blurry, my cheeks flaming. “Thank you,” I manage to choke out, the feelings entirely too strong, and I fully blame the tequila. “I’m sorry for being an ass while you were gone. I don’t know why I’m like this. You didn’t deserve that.”
Josiah gives me a weak smile that doesn’t reach his tired-looking eyes. “It’s okay. I get it.”
“It’s not okay, and I’m really fucking sorry.”
He leans over, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck. “Stop apologizing. It’s done and over with. Let’s move on, okay?”
I nod, a traitorous tear spilling over and falling down my cheek. Josiah wipes it away with his thumb, before pressing his lips softly onto mine.
He comforts me with this kiss.
He brings me back to life.
He reminds me just how much I missed him in those two short weeks that felt like an eternity.
He kisses me until we’re both out of breath.
Opening my eyes, they find his, and the emotion pouring out of them is enough to knock me on my ass. “I’d give you athank youslashI’m sorryblowie if I wasn’t so goddamn exhausted right now,” I murmur.
He laughs, a real, hard belly laugh, which is contagious. I think we’re both so tired, we’re delirious at this point. “Let’s go to bed, baby,” he suggests, standing and holding his hand out for me.
I take it, and he leads me up to bed. He undresses me down to my boxers, does the same to himself, and then covers us both up with my blanket before holding me all night. With his scent surrounding me, and his body weight pressed up against me, my mind is quiet and my body is relaxed for the first time since he left for Nevada.
I love it.
39
SEGAN
Stretching out in bed, the first thing I notice is that I’m alone. Josiah’s not beside me, despite us falling asleep together last night after our talk. The second thing I notice is the slight breeze in the room. Peeling my eyes open, I glance in the direction of the window. It’s propped open a bit, the birds chirping outside, the sun beaming in.
I roll onto my back, reaching for my phone on the nightstand. Unlocking it, I notice it’s a little after eight in the morning.Fuck, I should still be asleep.Before I get up, I go through everything we talked about last night. My mom. The possibility of flying back there. Josiah offering to go with me. All of it sits in my stomach like lead. I don’t know what to do with it all, and frankly, I don’t feel like figuring it all out right now.
On a mission to find Josiah, hoping he didn’t leave as soon as he woke up, I roll out of bed and head downstairs. The delicious aroma of bacon hits my nose as soon as I reach the stairs, a smile tugging on my lips as my stomach grumbles. My breath catches in my throat as soon as I enter the kitchen, finding Josiah standing barefoot in front of my stove, wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung pajama pants—mypajama pants.
Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes meet mine, and he smiles. It’s warm and sweet. “Morning. You hungry? I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Morning,” I murmur, my voice still thick with sleep. “Yeah, I am actually. Smells good.”
Sliding onto one of the bar stools, I scan the counter, taking in everything he’s made. There’re waffles, eggs, bacon, and even some fresh fruit placed out that I know I didn’t have in the fridge.
“How long have you been up?” I ask.
“A couple hours. Couldn’t sleep. I ran to the store.”
