Page 61 of A Little Broken

“Not a chance,” she finishes for me. Her words are heavy with melancholy, only adding to the weight of regret sitting on my chest since long before my run-in with Paxton tonight.

Anxious to end this conversation as quickly as possible, I face the opposite wall and close my eyes. “Goodnight, Squeaks.”

“Can I ask you something?” she adds.

“Yeah?” I sigh.

“Do you ever…do you ever wonder who has it easier?” she whispers. Her words swirl into the black abyss separating us, leaving me more exposed than I’d like.

Knowing I’ll regret it, I roll onto my side and face her again. “What do you mean?”

“Archer’s gone.”

The familiar pang in my chest sharpens, but I force my breathing to stay steady.

“And he…he never knew how you felt, and you have to live the rest of your life wondering what if, while knowing you’ll never get the answer,” she continues. “Meanwhile, Jax is…Jax is very much alive, and I did shoot my shot, and yes, he had every right to pump the brakes, but it’s been years now, and even though I know how stupid it was to tell him how I felt, he neverreached out. Never…tried to make amends or…or even tell me why I wasn’t enough.”

It’s bullshit. She’s more than enough. Hell, Rory Buchanan is incredible. She literally ticks every box on every guy’s perfect girl list. Probably because she’s a fan of lists in general, and the idea of not completing said list to its fullest is considered a travesty in the girl’s eyes, but still. You can’t change your age. And ten years is a hell of a lot of them to look past.

Trying to lighten the mood, I say, “I mean, technically, you blocked his number and vowed to never see him again, so I’m not sure how he could contact you to make amends, but…” Her quiet sniffle is louder than a foghorn in the silent room while also making me feel like shit for being so blunt. “Shit. I’m sorry, Rore.”

“I think we both know why I vowed to never see him again, Tate.” She pauses. “Do you want to know the really stupid part? Even though I have no reason to be hung up on him, and honestly, I’m not anymore, I still can’t get myself to like, open up.” Her quiet voice cracks. “To anyone. And how ridiculous is that, you know? It was a stupid, meaningless crush, and I still can’t let it go? I know I’m pretty. I know there are plenty of fish in the sea, but the idea of being vulnerable enough to open the door with one of them feels about as freaking pleasant as rolling around on shards of glass.”

I grimace. “Ouch.”

“Exactly. And then there’s you, and don’t take this the wrong way,” she warns, “but you’ve basically decided to cope with your lack of emotional intimacy by jumping into bed with any hot guy who says he’s interested.”

I jerk back. “I repeat, ouch.”

“You know I’m right,” she argues. “And honestly? You do you, but?—”

“Thank you, and I will.”

Ignoring said interruption, she repeats, “But.Seeing a guy who looked at you tonight the way I would kill to have a guy look at me, and yet you want nothing to do with him feels…empty, almost.”

My body tenses at her observation.

Well, shit.

If Rory was anyone else in this moment, I’d probably chuck my pillow at them. But Rory is Rory. My confidante. My one and only. My sister from another mister. She’s the only one who’s managed to slip past my defenses since her brother’s death, and even though I like to give her shit for being little miss rainbows and butterflies, I almost envy her. The way she’s able to find a positive spin on most situations despite the matching shit-sandwiches we were given by fate. Even if I’m the one who claims the invincible title more often than not, she’s always been stronger than me, and I think we both know it.

Tucking my hair behind my ear, I carefully point out, “I’ve been empty for a long time, Squeaks. You know this.”

“Maybe we both are.”

She sounds so…broken. So lost. It kills me.

“Nah. Don’t lump yourself in with me.” I climb out of bed and pad across the cool floor. Grateful Hades is on Rory’s opposite side, I slide in beside her, pulling her against me the same way I wish my older sister would. “You’re amazing, Rore. And one day, you’re going to find a guy who’s worthy of you. I promise.”

She sniffles and burrows closer. “I think you will, too, you know.”

“Always the hopeless romantic,” I quip.

Another sniffle cuts through the quiet room. “Someone’s gotta cheer for us, right?”

My heart cracks. The two hopeless underdogs. We’re a real screwed-up duo, that’s for sure.

“I’ll always cheer for you,” I announce, giving her one more squeeze. “Now, you need to let me get some sleep, since apparently, I’m not allowed to call in sick or I’ll wind up on your shit list.”

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