Page 192 of Goodbye Note

“Fuck. They would, too.” I exhaled, tipping my head back to look at the ceiling so I didn’t keep looking at him.

Why the fuck did he have to look so good? Fucking fine wine bullshit.

“Want a hit?” Varian asked, drawing my attention back to him. He held out a mini vape. That his mouth had most definitely been on.

I’d never get through this without taking a hit, but I didn’t trust myself either. I leaned forward and took it, inhaling a long-ass draw. I needed this shit to work fast.

“The THC is high in that. Be careful.”

“I can handle it.” I took a second hit before giving it back. “I bet no one else knows we are even missing.”

“Aren’t you always missing?” He took another hit, then tucked it in his pocket.

We sat in awkward silence until I realized I didn’t care. I closed my eyes, enjoying the high.

“You don’t have to answer, but did you get it tattooed?” Varian asked after a while.

I didn’t have to ask what he meant. I pulled up my sleeve and let him see the entire note tattooed.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I didn’t want to forget. I wanted the reminder of it every day when I looked in the mirror. It’s worked better recently.” My word vomit was confirmation that smoking with him was the worst idea.

“I don’t think I could have looked at it every day.”

I lifted my shoulders. “You get used to all kinds of pain you didn’t think you could live through.”

“I feel that in my chest.” He rubbed his sternum, and I couldn’t stop looking at him. His hair was still long, but today, he had it pulled back in a low ponytail, something he never used to do. He wore a plain white tee. But it fit him like a fucking skin, revealing pecs he never had before. He was like the adult version of the boy I used to love, complete with about twenty pounds of extra muscle because the universe really hated me. “How did the interviews go today? Get asked about ‘Star-Crossed’?”

“How’d you know?”

“I was slated to do the calls after you all morning.” It made perfect sense. It was normal album promotion.

“Twice. One of them was pretty covert and didn’t push. The second was a real asshole. Asked about our rumors and then pressed it when I didn’t answer.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” A frown pulled between his brows. He had lines in his forehead and crow's feet, but somehow, he was the same guy. It fucked with my brain.

“What about you?”

“I got a few. No one pushed it, but they took my last call off, and I’m betting that’s why.”

I nodded. “Yup.”

“What did you say to him?”

I gave him a rundown of my answer.

“Good for you.” He took the pen back out and took another hit.

I held out my hand. Maybe I could get myself so obliterated I couldn’t speak.

“Do you think there is a way we can be friends?” Varian asked, and his words sucked all the oxygen out of the tiny space.

“I can’t be friends with you,” I managed somehow, because my lungs were empty and my veins were bled out. I had nothing left.

I didn’t know how to stay away from him. It’s why I had him blocked for the last seven years. Because the second he called, I’d be there, and I knew I couldn’t do that anymore with him married.

“Why?”

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