Page 80 of The Drummer

“More insight into you.”

Warm pressure spreads through my hand, and I shift my focus to our fingers locking together.

“I’m so sorry, Casey,” she says with a mix of pain and bewilderment. “And yet you stood by him? Cared for him?”

She’s not the only one who has trouble understanding the contradiction. This sordid story is full of them, but I suspect she’s had enough surprises for one conversation.

“We were both hurting,” I say, tracing the floor tiles with my eyes. “Maybe I thought we were standing by each other in the beginning. But I wasn’t the reason for her downfall, he was. I was able to forgive myself and continue to love her after she was gone. Luke’s pain was different.”

With a sharp exhale, she tackles me with a vigorous hug. I close my eyes as her arms constrict around me.

“You’re a special person, Casey Barrett,” she murmurs against my neck.

I release a sad laugh. “You’ve only known me a few days. I’ll get on your nerves soon enough.”

Her arms tighten as if rebelling against the thought. It feels so good to be close to her. To connect with someone who truly gets it. Getsme.It gives me strength I haven’t felt in years. Hope I haven’t felt in… ever.

It’s incredible, surreal, and so freaking exhausting.

My soul needs a break.

We part just enough to see each other. A spark catches in her eyes when they search mine with a quiet plea. My body reacts, screaming for the same thing.

But we’re both rocked by what just happened. I’m afraid this kiss wouldn’t be about us, but about my trauma, and that’s the slippery slope that got me into trouble in the first place.

With incredible effort, I withdraw from her arms and force the brightest smile I can muster.

“So does that mean I’ve won enough points to continue ourDead Headmarathon?” I ask.

There are some things only zombies can fix.

Her melodramatic groan drops us right back into our easy banter.

“Do we have to? Right before bed?” she whines.

I give her my best puppy dog eyes.

She sighs with plenty of self-asserted martyrdom. “Fine. But I maintain the Power of the Mute Button.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Movement wakes me the following morning. My neck feels like it’s in a trash compactor from two nights on this couch, but I’ve slept on way worse for a lot longer. Those early years of touring put us in some questionable sleep situations, not to mention the hard decade before that.

I struggle to a sitting position and squint toward the presence hovering over me.

“Morning sunshine,” Callie greets, way too chipper for this time of day.

She motions for me to move so she can join me on the couch.

But instead of settling in, she slides her open laptop onto my chest.

Confused, I remain still as she drops a quick kiss on my forehead and says she’s going to shower.

I blink after her, wondering what the hell just happened.

Once she’s gone, I glance at the screen a few inches from my face and inhale a sharp breath.No way.

I shoot a stunned look in the direction she just left, but it appears she really did just drop this bombshell and run.

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