Page 42 of Fall Wherever They May

I exhale a long breath. “I’ve orderedusa ride. You seriously think I would leave you here by yourself? We both have far too much alcohol in our systems. We can have a conversation tomorrow when we’re both sober.”

The hurt expression on her face causes a foreign discomfort in my chest. Knowing that I did this to her, that I caused her pain by telling her I didn’t want her or her friendship, I can’t bear it. I try to pull her into a hug, but she fights me off. So, I try again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I don’t want to hurt you.” Finally, she relents and curls into me, and her tears soak my shirt.

We wait in the alley until our ride pulls up. I usher her into the car. The ride is eerily silent the whole way home. She stares out the window and wipes the errant tears from her face as she silently cries. I scoot over and pull her against me, holding her the rest of the way home. When we make it home, I walk her to her door and give her another hug. I place a kiss on her forehead and mumble, “I’m so sorry, Firecracker. I truly didn’t mean what I said. Let’s talk tomorrow. Okay?”

She nods, and without a word, she steps into her house. I turn around and walk back to my lonely house. Once I make it up the stairs and plop into my bed, regret slams into me. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! My fist comes down on my pillow over and over. Something in me has to change. I can’t keep doing this to myself or to her.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Aspen

I feel a tongue lapping at my face and crack an eye open. Groaning, I roll my face into the pillow trying to stop the assault. Puck sniffs around my neck, tickling me, and I realize I’m never going back to sleep. Reluctantly, I roll over and check the time—it’s ten in the morning. I drag myself out of bed and trudge downstairs to feed Puck. My phone pings. When I check the screenI see a text from Evie telling me the boys are playing and not to rush—to pick up Tucker whenever I’m ready.

I fire off a text thanking her, then spend the morning lounging around and trying like hell to get rid of this god-awful hangover. I’m still camped out on the couch watching a trash reality show when River finally emerges from her room.

“Rough night, huh?”

“Understatement of the century. Remind me never to drink like that again,” I state, shifting my focus from her back to the TV.

“Want to talk about it?” She settles in at the end of the couch, then grabs a throw blanket from the back, resting it over her lap as she tucks her feet underneath her.

I shift my focus back to her. “Not particularly, no.” Then I amend with a puff of air, “Cal and I got into a huge fight.”

She hums but waits for me. I don’t want to go into the confusing details. “Ugh. I don’t know what is going on with us, to be honest.” I’m not in the headspace to deep dive into my complicated relationship with Cal, so I change the subject. “I’m sorry I left you like that. It was inexcusable.”

She waves a hand in the air like it’s no big deal. “I made it home okay. Plus, I had Hannah and the guys with me. When I saw you run after Cal, I knew you wouldn’t be coming back. But hey, thanks for leaving me with Carter.” She laughs, but I still feel like a shit friend.

By three o’clock we both finally feel alive enough to make it to Evie and Ivan’s house to pick up Tucker. Evie opens the door to greet us. Her beautiful brown skin simply glows, and her baby bump is a bit bigger than when I met her. Curly chestnut hair is pulled into a mess on top of her head, and she’s wearing red Adidas joggers. Evelyn Lukov is stunning. Even if this woman showed up to a gala in a trash bag, she would still hold the attention of every person in the room. Brown, calculated eyes stare back at me as we sit across from each other on her couch.

“The boys are playing in the game room. I put on a pot of coffee; it looks like you could really use it. What did you get into last night?” She asks me, but River cuts in with her big fat mouth.

“Let’s see, after the hockey game, we went to The Sapphire Lounge, where she got possessive over Cal because the bartender called him Hotshot. Then he got possessive over her because she was dancing with another guy. He went batshit crazy on the guy, and I’m pretty sure he broke the dude’s nose. Then she and Cal had their first fight. Well, first fight as ‘friends.'" She uses quotations. “That pretty well sums it up, right?” She giggles at my expense.

“Oh my . . . Want to talk about it?” Evie asks me with both brows raised.

Taking my hair down, I retie it back into a tighter ponytail. I curl my feet underneath me on the couch, and I get comfortable, knowing this is going to be a long conversation. I’m recounting in detail what happened when Ivan walks through the living room. He makes everyone a cup of coffee, then hands one to each of us.

“The guy is in love with you. He may not know it yet, but that doesn’t make it false.” Evie tells me while Ivan sits down quietly, keeping his thoughts to himself.

I shake my head in denial. “He’s not.”

“Either you’re blind or dense . . .” River trails off seeing my annoyance. “I’m just saying.” She holds her hands up defensively.

Evie stands, moving to sit beside me, and places her tiny hand on my knee. “Did you know that Ivan and I hated each other for the longest time?” A laugh lurches from her chest as I look at her incredulously. These two are the epitome of a perfect couple. There’s no way they ever hated each other. “It’s true. He was my brother’s best friend in high school. I thought he was a pompous shithead, and he thought I was . . .”

Ivan cuts her off. “Don’t go assuming you know what I thought, Sparrow . . . I always thought you were perfect.”

My brows draw in confusion. “Sparrow?”

Evie rolls her eyes. “He used to say I was loud and annoying; he said that I squawked like a bird. He’s been calling me Sparrow since my junior year in high school.”

Ivan shakes his head. “That’s not why. It’s because a sparrow is a type of spiritual symbolism, and Baby, being ‘round you makes me feel closer to heaven.” He chuckles.

She barks a laugh. “Damn right. Do you know how many times you came close to heaven in high school? Every time youpulled a prank on me, you were on the verge of death.” She raises one eyebrow at him, and we all bust up laughing. “This one time, I had just showered and washed my hair. I have type three-b hair; let’s just say it can get nappy. Well, when I tried to use a wide-tooth comb, it wouldn’t easily move through my hair like normal. I couldn’t figure out why. I finally went to the shower, grabbed the co-wash bottle, and smelled the contents. This asshole had replaced my co-wash with some white girl shit that doesn’t mesh well with my hair type. I think it was Suave or something cheap like that. I was already late for school, so I had to go to school with an afro. I rocked that shit, though. But I was so mad; I could’ve choked him out.” She laughs.

“Eventually, you did . . .” Then I catch him mouthing to her:with your thighs.The way they are with each other, seeing a true connection like theirs, makes me want the same thing for myself more so than I ever have.

Evie giggles and rolls her eyes, then directs her attention back to us before clearing her throat, “Anyways,” she exaggerates the word. “We drove each other up the wall. We were always bickering, and pulling pretty shitty pranks on each other . . .”

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