I asked, “How is he?”
“No change. He’s still in a vegetative state. No changes in his brain activity. After all this time, I guess I don’t expect there to be, but… I know there’s no real odds of him getting better. I know I should let him go. Frank is…well, you know how Frank is, but Doug’s my boy. I can’t do it.”
My eyes started to water, but I swiped it away. Jesus, this was still so goddamned hard. I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing Doug in that bed, the machines, knowing he was there but not, alive but not living.
“Josh? Are you there?”
I cleared my throat. “Yeah, sorry. He’s your son. You love him. It’s understandable.”
“Doug cared about you so much, Josh. He loved you. You were his very best friend.”
I was in love with him, and I can’t move on.
“I miss him,” I admitted.
“I do too.” I could hear the tears in her voice. “Anyway, he wouldn’t want us to do this. What’s new with you? Do you have anyone special yet?”
I was out to everyone in my life except Doug’s parents. Not long after everything went down with Doug, my parents left the Raleigh area, and they’d lost contact with his parents.
“No, ma’am,” I replied, when what I wanted to say was, I loved your son, and he loved me. We were together, and now I don’t know how to move on. For the first time, I think I want to, and I can’t figure out how to make amends. Tell me it’s okay to move on.
We spoke for a few more minutes before I made an excuse to go. I wiped the leftover tears from my eyes, pulled my car back onto the road, and left.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Griffin
I was making lunch when there was a knock. A quick glance around the living room told me there wasn’t a stray T-shirt there waiting for me, so I just headed to the door and looked through the peephole. A tremble slid down my spine like a caress when I saw it was Josh.
Fucking Josh Westbrook. What in the world was going on? Despite what had gone down last night, I still couldn’t believe this foreign place in which we’d found ourselves together. This place where I sure as hell liked to be.
I pulled the door open. He crossed his arms and leaned against the jamb. “Hey, Grumpy G. You miss me?”
“So bad that I wasn’t sure I would survive. I was actually in there crying, trying to work through how I would ever go a day, an hour, a minute without you.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not just you. I tend to have that effect on people.”
“Is there some kind of pill for that?” I teased, and he laughed. A rumble of laughter started deep in my chest too as I motioned for him to come inside. When I closed the door, I realized I was glad he’d come. That maybe a part of me had needed him to come. I was still adjusting, still finding my way around how I felt, and what we were, and what we’d said. I didn’t like being uncertain about anything. Most people didn’t, I figured, but I was used to having the answers, used to finding them when I didn’t have them, but where Josh was concerned, I was in unfamiliar waters without a compass; without even knowing how to drive the boat.
The house was set up so you walked into the living room first. The stairs were to the left by the door, then the dining room, and the kitchen was behind the living room. There was a couch to the right, two chairs, and a TV on the wall. Josh leaned on the back of the couch, crossing his arms again, and damned if my gaze didn’t snag on how his long-sleeved shirt stretched across his chest and his biceps as he did so. I thought about his nipple piercings, wishing I had taken the time to enjoy them the night before.
“No regrets?” he asked after a moment. “It’s okay if you have them. We can work through it, or if you changed your mind, then we stop. This is your ball game.”
His words didn’t surprise me. Josh was the type to always look after others. “I’m pretty sure this is a team sport and we’re on the same one.”
“Yeah, but I’m not a rookie,” Josh replied.
“That doesn’t mean you don’t get any say in how the game gets played.” I