Wrath (Sinful Secrets 4)

I sigh. “Those things aren’t the issue, for me. I just feel like…I’m not the same Josh. I feel like if you remembered me—” Just say it, Josh. Damn. “I feel like if you did remember me, you would be really disappointed now.”

Ezra looks shocked. “Why?” Then his face falls—so dramatically, I know exactly what he’s thinking.

“Not like that,” I tell him quickly. “Not for that reason.” I’ll tell him about Dom Bryant at some point soon, but I don’t count him as a hookup. I was drunk off my damned ass, and I still called it off because of Ezra.

“Because I didn’t handle it well when you left,” I force myself to confess. “I did so much dumb shit. And all that time, you had real problems. I was so stuck in my own head, I almost fucked this second chance up.”

I can see the wheels in his head turning as I stop at the last red light before my street. Finally he says, “You can tell me, Josh. I did some pretty bad shit, too. Stuff I’m not proud of. You tell me your stuff, and I’ll tell you mine. It can be like a confessional.”

I can’t help a snicker at that. “Hell yeah, it can be.”

He grins. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m only second worst. You’re most definitely the worst. Remember that whole story I just told you? Grabbing dick on the roof?”

I shoot him a judgy look, and Ezra laughs at that. “C’mon, Miller. I’m not a hundred percent sure where we are, but I think we’re near your apartment. Why don’t we both spit it out. Tell me your fuck ups, and I’ll tell you mine. We can offer up the context later.”

Another deep breath in, and puff my cheeks out…blow it out. “You sure?”

“Hit me,” he says, looking stoic. “I can take it.” Ez lifts his brows, and I know it’s a cue for me to spill it. “Okay. I’m just gonna say it,” I tell him. “I started drinking when you left, and taking pills. I got high and drunk and ran my car into a tree. It fucked my mom up. Made her so sad. I gave up a soccer scholarship to Montevallo because their team did twice a month drug tests. Went to Auburn, got here, started drinking every day and taking Xanax sometimes. No prescription, so I bought the fake stuff you saw in my bathroom. One night I took too much different shit, and when my friend was over, I basically overdosed. Started getting sick, and couldn’t stop, and passed out. Jenna was scared that I was dying, so she called an ambulance. After that, instead of quitting all that shit, I just cut back. Tonight I felt…feelings.” I roll my eyes at myself, and then swallow so my voice won’t break. I whisper, “I felt lots of shit. All for you. So I went for the Xanax.”

It’s a long second before I can bring myself to look at Ezra. Even though he doesn’t remember how I used to be, I do, and it’s still embarrassing as fuck for him to know how much I fell apart.

I’m thinking what a fuck up I am when he lifts our clasped hands, pulling mine into his lap. He lifts them again and kisses my hand. He presses the back of it to his cheek.

“Mills, the only thing that makes me feel is sorry—that I fucked your shit up. It makes me wish I was here.” Ezra laughs, the sound soft and choked up. “Damn, dude. I’m really sorry.” He tucks my hand against his chest, his hand on top of it, rubbing. “You feel okay when you take that stuff. Or does it make you feel like shit?”

“It makes me feel like shit,” I whisper. “At first, I started doing it so I could sleep.”

“After I left?” His voice is low and hoarse.

I squeeze his hand. “Yeah.”

Then I’m turning into my apartment parking lot. I’m parking in the shadows, and he’s hugging me so tight and hard, it almost hurts. His lips brush my cheek and my temple. He drops little kisses on my jaw.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Miller.”

I hug him back. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.” I run my fingers into his hair. “I don’t blame you. Not at all.” I pull away so I can see his face, and I’m surprised to see tears on his cheeks. “Not even one percent, Ez.”

He nods. I hug him again. I’m hugging Ezra. “You wanna tell me your stuff inside?” I ask quietly. “Let’s go to the couch again, or to the bed.”

“You’ve gotta change those pants, Millsy.” I feel him smile.

We walk up the steps, not holding hands this time, but when we reach my level, his hand grabs mine and holds tight as I unlock the door for us.