out a small breath and the bitter scent of liquor invades my senses.
“You’re drunk.”
“Shh.” He presses a finger to his lips and smirks. “Don’t tell anyone. I told Hadley I wouldn’t drink any more.”
“What is she? Like your keeper or something?” Anger ripples through me, but I can’t help it. I’m powerless here. Just like I was powerless to stop Warren.
His expression falls. “You’re different.” He reaches out and ghosts his finger over my nose. I lay rigid on the bed, hardly able to breathe. His touch is soft and tender... cautious. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Well, maybe once. “But you look and feel just the same.”
“Conner...” I sigh, and for a split second, I contemplate taking what he’s offering. His comfort, his friendship. But I can’t. I can’t forget.
I won’t.
“Get the fuck away from me,” I hiss, and he staggers back, collapsing into the chair.
“You hate me.” His frowns deepens. “Well, join the fucking club. I did this. Me. I’ll never—”
“Conner?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“Shut up.”
“I wish... I wish things were different. I wish I’d never left and you were...” he trails off, and I’m too chicken shit to ask what the hell he’s talking about.
He’s drunk.
I know they say people speak the truth when they’re drunk, but I also know you can’t trust people when they’re liquored up.
Deep down, I know you can’t trust anyone.
Guys will tell you what you want to hear, shower you with compliments and sweet nothings, and then once they’ve taken what they want, they’ll crush your heart with their bare hands.
“You can leave now,” I snap when he starts making himself comfortable in the chair.
“Can’t.”
“Conner, this isn’t going to work for me. I need you to—”
“Go, yeah. Got the memo. You hate me. You never want to see me again. Well, guess what, babe?” He leans forward, swaying gently. “I don’t fucking care. I’m not leaving until someone removes me. So you’re stuck with me.”
“I’ll go then.” I sit up, crying out when pain splinters through me.
“Shit, K,” Conner leaps up, rushing to my side. His hand slides over my shoulder and our eyes connect. The air crackles, thick with the ghosts of our past. Emotion shines in Conner’s ocean blue eyes, but I know it’s only guilt. But then his gaze drops to my lips and he swallows as if he’s imagining kissing me.
Strangled laughter bubbles in my chest. I’m losing my mind. That or I’m still high on the pain meds Dr. Miles gave me. Conner doesn’t want me. He never did. That’s why I’m lying here broken and bruised, on the inside and out.
“Kenny,” he whispers as if my name is sacred. It does strange things to my heart, but I silence her. It doesn’t matter if his touch is gentle or his words are kind. Conner left me. He pushed me into Warren’s arms and... He. Left. Me.
“Get the hell away from me.” I use all my might to shove him away.
Conner stumbles back, shock etched into his expression. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Whatever, Conner. Just go.”
He narrows his eyes with defiance. “I’m not leaving. I can’t.”
“Fine.” Indignation burns through me. “But I’m done talking.” Turning my face away from him, I close my eyes and hope sleep will come easily while knowing that it won’t.
Silence engulfs us as I lie there, still and unmoving. I can hear Conner, every gentle inhale and exhale.
After a few minutes, I think he’s fallen asleep. But then his voice pierces the darkness.
“I’m sorry, Kenny. I’m really fucking sorry.”
The next time I wake, Conner is gone. I should feel relieved, but part of me can’t help but feel disappointed.
I test the waters and sit up. Everything hurts, but I persevere. I need to get up today. I need to put on a brave face and show Conner and everyone else that I’m okay.
Maybe then James will let me leave without a fight.
A knock at the door makes me groan.
“Yeah?” I call.
“Hey, it’s me.” Hadley appears. “I brought you some supplies.” She slips inside and places the piles of clothes and toiletries on the desk. “I figured we’re about the same size.”
“Thanks.” I give her a tight smile.
“Listen, I just wanted you to know that I won’t tell anyone.”
My lips purse. When she’d stopped by last night, I hadn’t really told her anything. She’d deduced what had happened and I didn’t deny it.
What was the point?
Girls knew. They had some kind of weird female intuition about these things. I’d known the second she stepped into the