Page 20 of Kissing Chaos
He’s not wrong. This time of year, my mind goes into survival mode. During the day, I keep my hands busy. At night, I slip down to the gym by the ranch and hit the bags until my brain turns off. I’ll sleep for an hour or two then do it all over again.Nothing about February is ever easy. Too much loss over the years.
When I don’t answer Jace, he sets the glass down and leans against the bar to catch my eye.“Two weeks out,” he says. Nothing more. He just waits.
I stare at the cowboy decor behind the bar while taking another long pull from the green bottle, knowing Jace won’t add anything unless I acknowledge the date that is quickly approaching. I almost brush him off, but Jace is too intuitive for his own good and would bring us full-circle to what the month of February entails.
Giving in, I nod while trying to keep emotions from clogging my throat.
“How are you holding up?”
It’s a miracle the bottle doesn’t shatter with the grip I have on it. My knuckles are nearly white. I take a breath, forcing my hands to relax and pasting a smirk on my face. It isn’t Jace’s fault that this month holds too many rounds of trauma to count.
“Might just skip February this year,” I grumble, taking a swig of beer. I’ve worked every allowed overtime hour for the last two weeks in an attempt to ignore the mental anguish that lives rent free this time of year. I wish there was an easy solution to this, or someone to share my struggles with. Images of green eyes and messy hair flash through my mind, but I push them away as soon as they surface.
No one deserves to get dragged through this pit with me.
“Noah.”
“Jace.”
My best friend sighs. “Is that really what you want? To pretend nothing’s bothering you?”
“Trace and Farrah are in town staying at my mother’s house for the next week or two. Mom’s already called and asked when I’ll be making an appearance. Oakley has been blowing up my texts between flights. Apparently, I should be overjoyed for the opportunity to spend time with family.”
I can’t help the bite of sarcasm that slips in. Jace is one of the few who know about my dad’s death and the guilt I still carry over a decade later. I’m more than a little damaged from the things I’ve seen, and trying to pretend like I’m not is infinitely more difficult when under my mother’s roof. She has never placed the blame on me, but seeing the heartbreak in her eyes even after all these years eats away at what is left of my heart. My brother is a different story; time has not lessened his hatred of me.
“Mama Slater loves when you visit, man.”
“I’d rather her just come here, ya know? Instead of Trace spoutin’ off at every turn. I’m pretty sure I’ll put him through a wall if he says something to make Mama or Oaks upset, even if it is deserved.”
“Take someone with you who can run interference. Hell, I can get someone to run this place for the day and go with you. Kelsey would probably jump at the chance to spend time with your sister.”
Shaking my head, I rock back and balance the barstool on two legs for a second before settling back down. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Never said you did. But you need your friends.” Jace waits for me to meet his eyes before continuing. “It’s okay to ask for help, man.” He slides a soda in front of me, a brow arched as if daring me to argue.
“What? Am I on the Drew drinking plan, now?”
“Tired of my friends making poor decisions. Figured it’s time to force y’all into better habits when I have the chance.” He swipes the empty bottle from the counter and tosses it before something across the room catches his attention. “Still think if you just don’t talk about the other elephant in the room, it’ll magically get better?”
“Damn it, Jace,” I grumble, pushing away from the bar with a half-cocked plan to storm out.
Jace quickly slips around the bar and forces me back onto my stool. “Don’t storm out of here pissed at the world, man. You need to talk about her. Especially if you want to make anything happen with the little number that just walked in with her brother.”
“You know it wasn’t like that with Maya.”
“Do I? Because you haven’t been with anyone since her.”
“How do you know?”
He cuts his eyes at me, that eyebrow arched.
“Yeah, okay. I haven’t been with anyone in three years. So, what?”
“You need to let yourself move—”
“I have moved on.”
“No. You’ve let grief for something that wasn’t your fault keep you from finding someone who could love your surly ass. And my money says she just walked in.”
