Page 103 of Catcher's Lock
“You know what would be fucking awesome right about now?”
He leans back on his palms and squints up at me. “A hammock?”
“A hammock.”
We make the short drive back to his trailer in the dark. He rests his hand on the back of my neck while he guides the truck down the driveway, the gesture’s casual ownership setting butterflies aloft in my chest. I’m pleasantly sore and used, happy to bask in the afterglow, but the niggling little voice in myhead is waking up, telling me that, while the sex was amazing, it started with another fight. It’s also reminding me how long it’s been since my last fix, and ratchety tension is creeping back into my languid muscles.
“Well, how was I?” I ask when I can’t sit still any longer. “Good enough to make you forget the SFO Radisson?”
His fingers tighten, digging into my pulse, before he pulls his hand back with a sideways glance.
“Are you trying to pick a fight right now?”
“You’re the one who told me sex doesn’t fix anything. I’m just trying to figure out if you’ll ever forgive me for all the shit I pulled before we started fucking. Or ever trust me again.”
“You’ve only been sober fortwo days. Which is also exactly how long we’ve beenfucking.”
“Do you know the last time I voluntarily went more than twenty-four hours without a drink?” I sure as hell can’t remember. It has to meansomething.
“I’m not sure if that’s helping or hurting your case. And I don’t know how long it will take me to fully trust your sobriety. My dad sometimes went months between benders. You’ve barely started. But,” he sighs when I slump in my seat, and his hand drifts over to stroke my knee. “Iforgaveyou as soon as I heard your voice on the phone and knew you were alive.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” I quip, but I capture his fingers with mine so he can’t pull away again.
“I never said I wasn’t angry.”
“Forgive but never forget, huh?”
“Do you really want to forget?” He pulls into the parking space outside the trailer and kills the engine, then turns in his seat to study my face in the dim light from the porch. “Our history is part of us. We both made mistakes in the past, and I don’t mind paying for mine if it means we get to say wesurvived the worst of each other. As long as we learn from it. As long as we do better moving forward. I’m not ending up like my parents—trapped in the same patterns of resentment and avoidance until one of us dies.”
I shake my head. “You never make mistakes. Unless this is one now. What if I can’t do it? What if I hurt you again?”
“Stop. You’re already doing it. Look at us. We’re worlds beyond the SFO Radisson. And don’t tell me I never make mistakes. I selfishly pushed you on my birthday when you weren’t ready. I enabled your addiction that night and a hundred nights before. Hell, I made all your shit with Shilo worse because I wanted her approval so badly. I failed you so many times, Gem. I was so worried about being in love with you I forgot how to be your friend.”
“You were everything I ever wanted in a friend. I strung you along for so long it’s a miracle you didn’t snap long before your birthday. That wasn’t selfish. It was brave. I fucked it up with my bullshit. I fucked up ENC all on my own. You were never gonna stop me from drinking back then, and you couldn’t have stopped my mom from leaving or from falling in love with Cheyenne.”
“I could have set better boundaries and paid more attention to what was going on with you, rather than letting my own fears write our story. I could have fought harder for you. Fuck, at the very least, I could have taken your side after your mom came home.”
“You were fucking starved for parental affection, Rocket. I was an asshole to be jealous of you when you found it. You deserved to be the favorite.”
“Good parents don’t have favorite children, Quill.”
“Only least favorites.”
“Wait until you see how they react to having you back tomorrow,and then talk to me about ‘least.’”
Tomorrow. Fuck.
I’m not ready.
I give his hand one last squeeze, then let myself out of the truck and head toward our temporary sanctuary, trying to steel myself for the inevitable invasion.
It’ll be okay. I’m working on my shit, and this is one more piece of it. And I have Josha on my side now. I’m not alone.
“They want you to be happy, Gem,” he says, catching up to me. “They fucking love you, whether you want to believe it or not.”
“They’re my family. They have to love me.”It doesn’t mean theylikeme.
Grabbing my arm, he spins me around to face him.
