Page 1 of The One I Love
Prologue
Shane
~ Seventeen Years Ago ~
As soon asI open the door and take a seat on the front steps, I instantly feel the tightness in my chest ease. There’s at least a hundred people inside Simon’s house right now. And yes, I know they’re all here tonight for me and to send me off to the Army with one last bash, but I wish they’d all leave.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m grateful. I know Oliver planned this party for weeks. And though he complained about something every day, the man was in his element with this. But in reality, I would have been just as happy with a bonfire, a case of beer, and my four best friends hanging out until the sun came up. That’s how I really wanted to spend my last night before I’m gone for who knows how long. A night with just me, Oliver, Simon, Wes, and Amelia would’ve been perfect.
“Oh! Shane! I didn’t know you were out here.”
I flinch at the sound of Emily Babcock’s voice. I know she can’t help it, but her voice might be the worst sound on theplanet. I turn around and see Emily stumbling out of the house. And stumbling is the nice word to say. The girl can barely walk.
“Emily. How about we sit down?”
She nods, but she’s so drunk she looks like a bobble head. “Thanks, Shane. You’re so nice. You’ve always been so nice to me.”
I don’t respond as I guide her—which means carry her—to the porch swing. Sitting her on a moving object might not be the best idea in the world, but it’s my only option at this point. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”
She swings her head to look at me, which is when I notice that her hair and makeup are a mess. I can only guess how that happened—or with who.
“Just a little,” she says as she pinches her fingers together. “You’re hot. You know that?”
I only know that, or that she thinks that, because she tells me every time she’s drunk. Which is a lot now that our senior year has come and gone. I think there’s been a party every night since we graduated a month ago.
“Thanks, Emily.”
She flings her arms over my shoulders, nearly punching me in the process. “Why don’t we kiss? We should kiss. You’re leaving. I’ve always wanted to kiss you.”
I gently lift her arms off me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Emily.”
“Why? Am I not hot enough? Do you think I’m hot?”
Oh, how do I answer this…
“It’s not because of that,” I say. “It just wouldn’t be a good idea.”
She lets out a huff. “Why not?”
I came out here to get some air. I didn’t come out here to be grilled by a drunk girl who hits on me every chance she gets since freshman year. I’m sure as hell not going to tell herthe truth of why it wouldn’t be a good idea. No one knows that.
But just as I go to give her some sort of half-assed answer, I feel her head on my lap. I panic for just a second before I realize that she’s not trying to suck my dick. She’s legitimately passed out.
“Fuck,” I groan. I throw my head back in frustration when I hear a familiar laugh.
“I see we’ve come to the ‘Emily finds you and hits on you until she passes out’ part of the night.”
I look up to see Amelia leaning against the door of the house.
“Something like that.”
I gently lift Emily’s head off my lap as I stand, doing my best not to move the swing any more than I have to. I quickly take off my flannel shirt and make it into a ball so she has something for her head. Luckily, it’s still in the eighties, even though it’s well past eleven at night.
“You’re really too nice,” Amelia says as she goes to sit on the front steps.
I drop down next to her. “Don’t say that too loudly. People might catch on.”
She gives me a smile that, like always, hits me right in the chest. “You know you won’t lose your reputation if people find out you’re not the grump and the asshole everyone thinks you are.”
