Except I must have passed out for longer than fifteen minutes, because a knock on my window startles me awake. The sun is sinking toward the horizon. It’s Billy.
I quickly swipe the back of my hand across my mouth to make sure I’m not drooling, then try to roll down my window, except the key isn’t in the ignition and the car isn’t on, so nothing happens.
I turn the engine over, nearly pee my pants at the loud music, turn it down, and then roll down the window.
His wide blue eyes dart around the inside of my car before they land on me. “Hey, are you okay, Teagan?”
“Yup! Just fine. I was waiting for a message, and I must have fallen asleep. Guess that’s what I get for bingeing an entire season of Stranger Things last night.” Why am I lying? I can’t seem to help it.
“Do you need me to drive you home? We can pick your car up tomorrow,” he offers.
“No, no. I’m okay.” I wave him off. “Thanks for making sure I didn’t spend the night sleeping in the parking lot.”
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home?” He glances at the passenger seat. The contents of my purse are strewn about, and there are a couple of empty energy drink cans on the floor. Normally my car is clean and doesn’t look like the inside of a garbage can.
“I’m sure. I’m good. Thanks, though.” He steps back, and I put the car in gear and drive home, feeling pretty awful after that nap. I hate napping. It makes me feel out of it for hours afterward, and getting a decent sleep tonight will be virtually impossible.
My day goes from bad to worse when I get home and find Aaron’s truck parked in the driveway.
It annoys me that the first thing I want to do is hug him. I want to curl up beside him and close my eyes and listen to the sound of his heart beating until it lulls me to sleep. But he’s the reason I’m feeling like this in the first place. If he hadn’t pushed me and made everyone worry about me unnecessarily, everything would be fine.
He steps out of his truck as I pull in beside him. He’s parked to the right, which means I can’t get to the door without passing him.
“I can’t deal with this right now.” I hate that I’m snappy and emotional. I try to brush by him, but his legs are way longer than mine, and he steps in front of the stairs leading to the loft.
“How long are you planning to dodge my messages?” His voice is soft.
“I don’t know. As long as it takes for me to get over what you did, I guess.” I stare at his chest.
“I get that you’re upset, Teagan, and maybe I should have broached this differently, but I care about you, and I just want you to be okay.”
“Does that mean you’re bringing back all the stuff you took?” He has my extra antianxiety medication, and I can’t fill the repeat for the one I have for another week. I’m down to my last two pills. If I had that, then maybe I’d be able to calm my mind enough to get a decent night’s sleep. I want things to go back to the way they were last week, before everything imploded.
“Really, Teagan? That’s what you’re focused on?” He drags a hand through his hair. “I don’t understand how you can’t see that this is a problem.”
“The problem is you coming in trying to be a savior and then telling my brother you’re worried about me. Now everyone is on me, all because you think I have a problem. You know, I get why you’re the way you are, Aaron, and I’ve never tried to push you outside of your comfort zone. I kept this light because I knew how hard it was for you to let people in, and what do you do in return? You throw my damn life into upheaval!” I tip my chin up, fighting tears. “As if I needed any help in that department! Everything is fucked up, and you made it worse for me. So thanks for all your concern, but I don’t need it or you. I was fine on my own before, and I’ll be fine on my own again. We’re done. I don’t want to see you anymore.”
Half of me wants to call those words back and bury them, but the other side of me wants to lash out. I nudge him out of the way, stomp up the stairs, and lock the door behind me.
A minute later gravel pops under his tires as he leaves.
I should feel relief that he’s gone.
But all I have is emptiness.
CHAPTER 25
IT’S DARK AT THE BOTTOM