Page 134 of You're so Bad

I called him when I was a little tipsy last night and told him everything. He’d wanted to go to the wedding with me—if Iinsistedon going—but I told him I already had a date. He could hardly argue since he’s been trying to convince me to talk to my grandfather for months.

“I don’t understand why you’re going in the first place,” she grumbles.

Truthfully, I’m not one hundred percent clear on that either. I definitely don’t consider Bianca a friend anymore. Even so, it feels like this is something I have to go through with, maybe because Leonard and I started this together. If it weren’t for this stupid wedding, I might never have realized that there was more to him than the sinfully attractive buffoon I’d vowed to stay away from.

“Women are complicated,” Reese offers as he pets Bertie.

My grandmother laughs. “Oh, my dear boy.Menare complicated. You’re told never to express emotions, so when they hit you it’s like an atomic bomb going off and everyone has to flee for cover. Our society has done you a disservice, if you ask me, with all that stiff upper lip nonsense.”

“I have emotions,” he objects. “And so does Leonard. He texted me happy birthday as soon as he got sober yesterday. It’s not easy being thrown in the slammer.”

“I imagine not,” Nana says.

Delia clears her throat, her gaze flying to me. I eat another, especially large, spoonful of cake and ice cream.

“Lucas says Leonard’s doing better. He’s…” She purses her mouth to one side.

“It’s obvious you feel like you shouldn’t say whatever it is you’re about to say,” Nana tells her. “But you should do it anyway. We all love that fool boy.”

Reese rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t say I love him, but he’s my bro.”

“Your bro, really?” I ask, pointing my ice cream spoon at the little stinker.

He inclines his head. “I guess I love him in a bro way.”

God, this kid is special.

“It’s just…” Delia meets my gaze. “Burke said he’s going to start seeing his therapist. Twice a week.”

“Oh, thank God.” My bowl drops from my hand and hits the floor, bottom down, and Bertie doesn’t even hesitate. He’s on the ground in an instant, attacking it. It’s some good hustle, and I’m not even mad. I just set my spoon down on the coffee table.

Delia leans her shoulder into me. “He wants to get better,” she says softly.

I feel hopeful for the first time in a long while, like I just walked out into a sunny day after a month of rain. I want him to get better. Even if he still doesn’t want to be with me—a thought that gives me that sinking sand feeling in my stomach—Ineedhim to get better. I’d just wished…

I’d wished we could do it together. That he’d let me help and support him.

“Screw this noise,” I say, shutting off the TV. “Let’s go to the bar.”

“Can I use my fake ID?” Reese asks, his eyes brightening.

“No, but I’m sure Mira has some juice boxes in the back.”

* * *

We stayedat Glitterati past midnight, because Mira insisted on making us a round of birthday shots. Much to Reese’s dissatisfaction, his was non-alcoholic.

Unfortunately, my phone took a dive into a toilet well before we even reached midnight, so now it’s living in a bag of rice while I head over to a coffee shop to meet my grandfather. When I get there, he’s already sitting at a table in the back, wearing a white suit. What’s with all the men in my life dressing like pimps?

I grab a coffee from the kind-faced server and join him.

He stands from his chair and holds out his arms. Even though I haven’t forgotten about him being a tool, I walk into his hug. I’m surprised by the tears that form in my eyes as I take in the familiar scent of his Old Spice.

He’s a salty old bastard, so it comes as no surprise when the first thing he says to me is, “It’s been a hundred and eighteen days since I last saw you.”

“Seriously, Grandpa Frank,” I say as I lower into the chair across from him. “I don’t need a guilt trip about it. You’re the one who left us.”

“I didn’t say it as a guilt trip,” he says, adjusting his tie. Red, like Leonard’s suit. I feel a pang inside of me because I was supposed to be going to this nightmare of a wedding with him. “I’m saying it because I’ve noticed. You and your grandmother always say I wouldn’t notice if my glasses fell off my face.”

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