The Rebel - Raleigh Ruebins Page 0,8

fit like a glove, a simple tight, white T-shirt, and his signature cowboy boots. He clearly still kept in shape, and his auburn brown hair was thick as ever. Back in the day, he’d always kept it shaggy, but now he had it short on the sides and a little longer on top, and it really did make him look like some old film star. His jawline was still so strong, and his honey-brown eyes….

His eyes still fucking felt like home to me. Even though I knew damn well they weren’t.

Katie cocked her head to one side. “Is his name really Red?”

“Of course.”

“I mean, like, that’s his actual, birth certificate name?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “It’s what he’s always been called. His full name is Lawrence Redford, but I don’t think anyone has ever called him Lawrence. It’s weird even saying it.”

“Lawrence definitely doesn’t sound as cool-cowboy as Red.”

I rubbed my palms over my face. “Both sound good to me. For God’s sake, he could be called Ralphie McMuddy Fucknuggets and I’d still be into him.”

Katie giggled. “That would be Mr. Fucknuggets to you.”

I puffed out a laugh before the heaviness settled back in my chest.

“He’ll warm up,” Katie said, ever the optimist. “It sounded like things ended badly with you two. Maybe he just needs to get to know who you are now.”

“I’d bet a lot of money that warming up isn’t anywhere on Red’s agenda,” I said.

“You said he was a good friend of yours,” Katie said, furrowing her brow. I pulled off my jacket and sat down on the couch, my hair still wet from the rain outside.

“I’m starting to wonder if all my confidence with him wasn’t just an effect of how much alcohol I was constantly drinking back in the day.”

“Fuck that,” Katie said. “You’re just getting used to things, but believe me, you’ve still got that spark in you.”

“How do you know?”

She grinned. “Because you still piss me off at least twice a day.”

I snorted. “Fair enough. I piss myself off at least ten times a day, if it’s any consolation. But I… I know I should have done everything differently with Red.”

She perked up. “Usually I’d go fix you a drink, but that’s not happening,” she said, disappearing into the kitchen and coming back again, holding a tangerine in each hand. “So here. Nothing fresh citrus can’t fix.”

I snorted a laugh. “A nice tangerine to take the edge off?”

“This is that good, 90-proof, top-shelf tangerine,” she said with a smile. “It’ll make you forget all your problems. Way better than liquor, anyway.”

I peeled one, biting into a juicy slice. “I think I’m already feeling it. Perfect idea.”

“I do my best,” she said, sitting down next to me on the couch. “Plenty more where those came from. I can help you get drunk as fuck on tangerine juice.”

Katie and I had been friends for the last five years. She was my main tattoo artist in LA, and after she’d tattooed me over a dozen times, we became good friends. She had no idea about my past relationship with Red until recently.

Katie had flown out with me to Kansas last week when I first came here. She’d been staying with me all week, helping me get furniture in my new place and keeping me company in this tiny town. For a few weeks before that, I’d been holed up in her apartment in LA, hiding from Colin and slowly saying no to every video opportunity that NaughtyBoyz offered me.

I was turning down so much porn money, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t even answer calls from my manager.

My whole career in porn had been fueled by alcohol and drug binges, and now that I was finally succeeding at being sober, going back felt... impossible. The two worlds felt linked together in my mind: when I was doing porn, I was usually on some form of pills, and after every shoot, I either partied or drank alone.

I didn’t even know if I’d be any good at porn if I was sober. The thought was nauseating.

“Colin’s still texting asking when I’ll be back,” I said, leaning back on the couch. “He still doesn’t get it that I’m gone for good.”

She rolled her eyes. “Prick.”

“I give it ten days before he finds a new guy to leech off of,” I said.

“He might never understand,” Katie said, “but Colin isn’t your problem anymore.”

I glanced at her. “He kind of is,” I said.

“Why?”

“Because he owes me ten grand, and I