Page 144 of Best Served Cold

“Really good. Was that leftovers or did I eat River’s dinner?”

“It was your dinner. Gray made it.”

“He did?”

“He brought it over after work. He’s an amazing cook and always has a freezer full of prepped meals on hand. He figured this would be easier to eat than whatever I could come up with. Way better tasting too.”

My chest ached. Gray did that—for me?

“Do you want anything else? We don’t have a lot of sweets in the house because River can’t be trusted around them, but we have chocolate popsicles.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Zane settled on the couch with me, his eyes serious. “Can you talk about what’s going on?”

“Do I have to?” I grumbled, feeling as childish as I sounded.

“No. But it might help.”

“It’s no big deal. It just happens sometimes. I get in these moods and…”

“You told me about your depression and anxiety.”

I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Of course I did. Great. Now you know for sure I’m crazy.”

“You’re not crazy,” he said firmly. “So cut that shit out.”

“Aren’t I?”

“No. And I don’t give a shit what the Sky Daddy worshipers you grew up around say. You have an illness. That’s it. That’s the end of it.”

“It’s hard to remember that when I still hear their voices in my head. When it’s a constant loop of being told it’s my fault I’m like this and I could be cured if I just accepted Christ into my life.”

“Unless your antidepressants are called Christ, then that’s bullshit.”

Another memory hit. Us in his car the night he’d come to get me from Chrysalis.

“Unless you have a plug called ‘the devil’ up your ass, then you can knock that shit off.”

Had we already had this conversation?

“Is this because of me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“No.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed. “This started right after we hooked up at Crimson. And I fucked up so bad yesterday.”

“It’s not because of you.” I sighed, wishing I could be anywhere else but here. These kinds of pointed conversations were hard, and I wasn’t used to them. “And you didn’t fuck up yesterday,” I told him.

“Yeah, I did. I’m just…I’m not good at this and I fucked up and today you’re—”

“You didn’t fuck up.”

“I left you alone after we…and I didn’t say anything when we were in your truck. I’m not good at talking, and I forget people can’t read my mind so I don’t say the things I should.”

“You didn’t leave me alone.” I picked at the sleeve of the oversized hoodie. The thing was as soft as butter inside. “I was with River.”

“You know what I mean. We shared that and it was everything, but I didn’t think about how it might make you feel when I bailed.”

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