Red Nights - Shari J. Ryan Page 0,6

of sorts.

But everything is out of sorts right now.

I glance down. The black slacks are my mom’s—tapered at the ankle and baggy in the thighs. My blouse has ruffles. And I’m sure my hair must look like it lost a battle with a high-powered hair dryer. None of it matters, though. “Maybe we should just leave now.”

She shakes her head and gives a disapproving grimace. “Honey, you probably shouldn’t leave. It’s Blake’s wake.” Aspen isn’t normally the voice of reason. She’s the one always sneaking out of work twenty minutes early, snatching food off of people’s plates, and dating the kitchen staff. We’re nothing alike.

“I guess.” We walk back into the house, reclaiming my spot against the wall.

Aspen scoots up beside me, nudging her shoulder into mine while scanning the room with a bit of a snarl. “This is so awful.” The words hitch in her throat. “I can’t believe he’s gone. It’s not fair.”

She’s right. It isn’t.

Being next to the front door, I’ve seen every person come and go, which means I’m front and center when Tanner Holt walks in. “Liss.” His arms pull me against him as if no time has passed. He offers a warmth I’ve tried to forget over the past year. “I’ve called you like twenty times. Why didn’t you answer?”

“Oh,” Aspen interrupts, pointing a finger at him. “She hasn’t been answering anyone’s calls. I finally tracked her down last night. Don’t feel bad.” Aspen doesn’t know Tanner, mostly because Aspen and I only met about ten months ago when she started working at the restaurant—shortly after Tanner and I broke up—so mentioning him was never necessary.

“My phone was in the fire.” I look between both of them. “It’s why I haven’t returned your calls.” Even if I had a working phone, I’m not sure I would have answered anyone’s call.

Tanner’s arm is still around my shoulders, his hand squeezing tighter as the seconds pass. I glance up to gauge his reaction to the crowd. This was all a little surreal before the wake. I knew what happened—I said good-bye to Blake seconds before he died. I heard the heart monitor cry out that piercing steady sound. I saw his chest expand and collapse for the last time. But it all felt like a bad dream. Until today.

Tears are forming in Tanner’s eyes. Tanner and Blake had been best friends since kindergarten, which makes it twenty years now. “I can’t believe he’s gone,” he mutters. I wrap my free hand around his waist, letting him rest his chin over my head. His whole body convulses, racked with a pain I’ve come to know all too well. “It’s all my fault,” he says. “If I hadn’t canceled our plans last weekend…there was a game I didn’t want to miss. Such a shitty reason to bail on him.”

I guess I’m not the only one feeling guilty.

“Don’t blame yourself,” I say to him. I should be saying this to myself, too. Tanner releases me from his grip and seeks out Mom and Dad. They fall apart in his arms.

“Your parents like Tanner, huh?” Aspen asks, observing the heart-wrenching scene.

“He’s like another son to them. His parents are workaholics and were never home for him.”

“So you spent a lot of time with him growing up, then?” Aspen says, resting her head on my shoulder and slipping her arm around my waist.

“Yeah…he spent most afternoons at our house. Mom usually fed him dinner after school, and he’d sleep over most weekends too.” Tanner offers his condolences to a few other familiar faces around the room, then joins me and Aspen against the wall. “Your parents told me to take you ladies out for dinner. They want you to eat something, Liss. They’re worried.”

Free at last. I grab Aspen’s arm and pull her out the front door with me. Tanner follows us to her car.

“Who are you staying with tonight?” he asks.

“Aspen.”

“Okay. Why don’t you two meet me at Escada?”

We all agree, and I climb into Aspen’s SUV, not giving a crap about my car, which has been sitting in front of Mom and Dad’s house for the past week. Dad drove it here while I was in the hospital, I guess. I can’t get myself to drive it yet since Blake was always in my car. He didn’t have his own, and his stuff is in there, and it probably smells like him.

The doors close, and it takes one second for Aspen to start talking about Tanner.

“Well, he’s super-cute. And