I lift my eyes to him. "Thank you, Alex," I whisper. He pulls me into his broad, solid chest and wraps his tree-trunk arms around me. His presence is like a brother's hug that I've never experienced in my life. Strong and reliable. And I can't help myself. I start crying. Heavy sobs convulse through my body while he holds me tight.
When I finally calm down—one or ten minutes later—he says into my hair: "I think you should give this town one last chance."
I sniff loudly into his tear-soaked shirt. “Nmhmh.”
“What was that?” He chuckles, and I finally let him go.
"I said I'm done with this town." I wipe my face with the back of my hand. "Sodone.”
"You still have people here who care about you." He says earnestly, and just like that, I'm bawling like a toddler again. Heavy tears run down my face.
“C’mon.” He says as he pulls me into a hug again. “Stay. Even just to spite everybody who wants you gone. We’ll back you up. You’re notthem, and you’ve never been.” I know he’s referring to my messed-up family. “I never saw you for somebody else’s mistakes. And a lot of others haven’t, either.”
“Youjuststopped thinking I’m guilty of something I didn’t do.” I muffle into his chest.
He gently pulls me off him by my shoulders. “Yeah, and I thought it wasyourfault. Not connected to your upbringing. Just something you chose to do, you know.” He raises his brows, and I relax. He's sort of right.
“Okay, I get your point.” I wipe my nose in a very unladylike manner. "I need to talk to Freya and explain to her why I'm a shitty friend." I dread this conversation. I truly am the worst friend ever.
“You know she loves you, right?” He gently squeezes my shoulder.
“She does?” I ask hopefully, feeling like an unwanted child looking for love—which I am.
“She does.” He nods. Twice. “I’m even a little jealous.”
I playfully punch him in the chest. "You should be. I'm about to switch teams and go for her if you don’t pull your head out of your ass and put a ring on that finger.”
“I will. One day. We’re not ready for that yet. Neither of us are.” His face takes on a dreamy look. I’m just messing with him: I know they aren’t ready for that yet, but I’m positive they were made for each other. When I look at them together, I believe in soulmates. They complement each other and make each other better.
“Well, isn’t this cozy.” A snarky, slightly growly voice inserts itself into our heartwarming, soul-mending conversation. I jump from Alex like we did something wrong.
"Justin." Alex drawls like he feels something terrible is about to come.
“Alex.” Justin grits. “I need to talk to Kayla.” He shoots me a pointed look. “Alone.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea," Alex tells him, moving in front of me protectively, hiding me from Justin. I can’t figure out why he does it—it's Justin, for crying out loud, his best friend.
“I don’t think I asked for your opinion," Justin growls, taking deliberately slow steps toward us.
Whoa, what? What’s happening here?
I jump in front of Alex and put my hand on his chest, preventing him from boiling over. Alex has anger problems, and it’s not good to poke the bear. Freya would beat us all with a pan if we let Alex go off the rails again, right in the middle of his anger management program and PTSD treatment. He’s been doing so well, and I’m not about to have that thrown away over literally nothing. Nothing. Because what the ever-loving hell is happening right now?
Justin’s gaze zeroes on my palm on Alex’s chest, and his nostrils flare.
“What’s your problem, Justin?” Alex asks in an overly calm voice even though he looks as if he’s about to pounce any second now.
“I need to talk to Kayla. Now.” He sounds constipated, if I may say so.
“Why? What is so important that you must tell her now when we're in the middle of a conversation?" I'm about to pinch Alex for aggravating the beast when he tilts his head toward me and winks. I stop in my tracks, my jaw just about hitting the asphalt. Then he looks back at Justin. “You’re just gonna regret whatever you’re gonna say now.”
“And you knowexactlywhat she needs nowso well, huh?” Justin cocks his head.
I’m just standing here, watching the weirdest movie of the year unfolding in front of my eyes. And I don’t even say anything. I don’t evenwantto say anything to Alex about speaking for me instead of… well, me. It feels nice for somebody to watch over me. God knows nobody has ever done that before.
I could ask Alex why he winked at me, but I think I know the answer: he's just trying to rile Justin up. But why does Justin follow the hook, though? It can't be jealousy.
To my utter surprise, I’m all in for a show. I step behind Alex, my eyes flickering between him and Justin.
