raffles.
That’s how this works.
Shake some hands. Grease some palms. Get recognition.
You raffle for a top-of-the-pyramid kind of chef. They’re well-known, experienced, and know their shit. It’s exactly what I need for tonight. Before taking the trip, I called Francis. He told me to stay sober or I’d lose my balls. He’s trying to warn me because Ellie basically got him wasted and married him. Ellie. My mind travels to the Antichrist herself. She fucked up a lot before her untimely demise.
The best thing that came of her death was Gray being reunited with Francis. That was the worst-kept secret. It made zero sense as to why he stayed away. I get he had a kid he wanted to protect, a fortune, and even his family name, but Gray grew up thinking her dad died drunk. Seeing her face when we brought up Francis over the years made me sad. Nate and I were in the loop. We knew and couldn’t say anything. What kind of people does that make us?
Gray forgave Francis.
Hell, she flew across the world to learn about their family and what it means to be a Satoray. She grew to love him, and he updates me often about their adventures. Like now, they’re in Hawthorn for the summer, and part of the next semester, while Gray decides her future and Frankie goes wild.
After all the drama of Ellie, I didn’t think I’d survive. I was able to be with Lo. Truly be with her. Then she got into that accident, and I thought even then that maybe she’d pick me. But what I didn’t realize—or refused to—was that she and Jase had more than us.
They were real.
We weren’t.
And in the end, I was the one who suffered.
Pulling up to the hotel in my Z51 Corvette, I practically cry when I hand the keys over to the valet. He’s eighteen, maybe. His eyes light up like mine used to when I got a new video game.
“Scratch it, you die.”
He chuckles as if I’m joking. I’m not. There are only twenty-five of the limited edition charcoal dust color to be ever made. That’s as limited as it gets for Corvettes. “Bro, I’d—”
“Not your bro, dude. I’m serious. I’ll hunt you down if she’s even surface-dented. Buffable or not, this car is worth more than your entire existence,” I say harshly. The kid visibly swallows as his excitement drains from his face entirely. Good. No joyrides for him.
“Got it,” he mutters, his hands shaking when he reaches the door to drive off. I smile at him and wave, not caring that he might have pissed himself. Better not get that shit on my seats. A bellhop waves me over, taking my bags and suit and carrying them to the front. Handing him a hundred, I shoo him away. As soon as I’m checked in, I’m practically running for the room. When I notice the minibar, the one I specifically asked to be empty, I choke down the dryness swelling my tongue.
Is this what life of an addict will always be like?
Craving a single drop like I’m stranded without sustenance, and when it’s placed in front of you, in all its taunting glory, you have to abstain from indulging? That’s what I’m experiencing as I stare at the little bottles of Jack, Jameson, Jimmy Beam, and Crown. It’s like they knew whiskey was my weakness and wanted to test me or force me to spend a shit-ton more money. Rehab. I did the twelve steps, though I skipped huge details on a few. Catherine Bobbie—goes by Bobbie—Nate’s and my sponsor, she saved me. Brought me from the cusp of drowning and dragged me out, drying each oversaturated inch.
Closing my eyes with what little restraint I have, I change into my gym shorts and racer tank. Instead of sitting in a room that would more than likely push me over the edge, I head to the gym at the top floor, the one only suites have access to.
Scanning my room card, I’m allowed entry. It’s empty. Not surprisingly. There are several events this weekend, and most people dread working out while on vacation. For one, it’s business. Two, it’s the only thing that keeps me from dousing myself in woodsy goodness. And three, it’s productive and healthy. It’s what I do to keep my mind off her and how happy she must be right now.
Two years.
Bet she’s radiant.
Why did my happiness have to reflect solely on hers? When will I find the