Always has.
“You’re better than him. Better than most of us,” he insists. “Dirty shit like revenge is moremystyle.”
I laugh at the joke and settle against him more when his arm slips around my waist.
“It’s never too late to learn new tricks,” I say back.
“Nah, you’re one of the good ones. Don’t let one asshole’s mistake change you.” He’s quiet and I feel the weight of his stare again. “Well …twoassholes’ mistakes.”
I know he’s talking about himself, know he’s referring to how his lifestyle ultimately proved to be the death of us.
Without much thought going into the action, I place my hand on top of his, where it rests on my stomach.
“You always know what to say. Why is that?”
He chuckles softly and his breath moves strands of my hair across my neck, and then comes the spinetingling chill.
“Just saying what’s true,” he concludes.
I consider that, whether his words are true universally, or just from his perspective. I’ve never considered myself to be‘one of the good ones’,mostly because I don’t exactly come from good stock.
An apple never falls far from the tree, right?
“Get some sleep,” he says quietly, easing my phone from where it’s locked in my fingers.
His weight covers me for a moment when he reaches across to place it on the nightstand and everything about him sends my mind into nostalgia overdrive. His scent, the feel of him.
We were good together once and I can’t make myself forget that, even with all the effort I’ve put forth.
He settles behind me again and I feel something I’ve lacked for a while now. Since Mom bailed, since Hunter was taken away.
Peace.
And … I missed this.
“Sleep,” he says again, just before yawning.
I lift my head when his arm replaces my pillow, and I already feel myself relaxing. Guess I needed this, neededhim.
“Thank you for showing up,” I breathe against his skin. “Not many people do that for me.”
A soft kiss to the back of my shoulder comes before words, a declaration I would’ve known even if he never said it.
“I’ll always show up for you.”
Chapter 2
WEST
Something told me not to let Joss pick the music, but I fucking did it anyway. Should’ve gone with my gut.
When the hell did sad-girls-on-acoustic-guitars become a music genre, anyway? A montage of weak-ass breakup songs is the last thing I want to hear right now.
She’s been over at our place practically all day. After the bus brought us back to the school parking lot early this morning, she only went home long enough to drop off her things and check in with her parents. Then, half an hour later, security phoned to announce she was on her way up.
But in hindsight, if I’d known I’d be forced to listen tothisshit at some point in the day, I would’ve removed her ass from our list of authorized visitors without hesitation. Friend or not.
Mostly, she hung with Dane, either in his room listening to music, or in the theater room binging bad reality TV. But when she got bored, she’d wander into Sterling’s space or mine to check in. She never pressed for conversation, though, which was a good thing because I had none.