Painkiller

But even though she knew they could never be in a relationship, and he’d probably never reciprocate her feelings, they were as close as two people could be.

He didn’t care that people called her the nerd or geek in school. In fact he had no problem kicking their asses because of it, and had on several occasions.

He was the only one she could really talk to, unload on. But they had nothing in common, and maybe that was why they got along so well? Maybe that was why he’d never see her as anything more?

I’d rather have him in my life as a friend than nothing at all.

And that was why Rosie would never tell him how she felt, because the risk of him being disgusted or uncomfortable was too high, and she didn’t want to risk losing what they had.

She headed downstairs and went into the kitchen. After grabbing something to eat and drink she went over to the window by the sink.

Staring out the window, she leaned forward when she saw Rebel’s car off to the side, and barely made out his big form sitting in the driver’s seat.

Squinting because she didn’t have her glasses on, she tried to see what he was doing, but the glare from the streetlamp, and the blurriness of her not being able to see clearly, didn’t allow her to make out what was going on.

I sure as hell hope he doesn’t have someone in the car with him.

There had been one time she’d walked in on him about to have sex. It had been her own fault, though, because she hadn’t knocked before going into his room. But God, that vision would never leave her, and neither would the pain she’d felt afterward.

You can’t be upset when he doesn’t even know how you feel.

About to turn and head back to bed, because she didn’t want to see if there was someone else in the car with Rebel, she stilled when she saw his car door open. He climbed out of the car, braced a hand on the hood, and just stood there.

For long seconds he didn’t move, and she felt her brows knit in confusion. But then he shut the door and started making his way toward the back of the house where the walkout basement door was. He was swaying pretty badly, and she knew he was drunker than shit.

But then again he wasn’t nicknamed Rebel because he liked to stay at home and follow the rules.

After about five minutes she heard banging around downstairs, and as much as she told herself to just go to bed, Rebel was the only person she was close with. She wanted to make sure he was okay, and at least didn’t fall asleep on his back and choke on his own vomit.

Walking to where the basement door was on the other side of the house, she grabbed the doorknob and slowly turned it open. The lights were off, and she couldn’t even see the steps that descended, but then a light was turned on and she blinked back from the sudden brightness.

More banging, some cursing from Rebel, and she found herself shutting the door behind her and going downstairs. Once on the bottom landing she looked around the corner and saw Rebel in the bathroom.

Rebel had a nice setup down here, with the basement being fully finished, having its own bathroom, and even a little kitchenette off to the side. But whatever her stepfather and mother were thinking when they agreed to let Rebel have this as his room, including the private entrance, was unknown to her.

And then she heard Rebel throwing up, and she sagged her shoulders, hating that he allowed himself to get like this. Whatever was going on with him he’d never tell her, no matter how close they were.

He kept this wall up around him, and it was so high that even if she wanted to break it down it would be one hell of a feat.

Rosie headed toward the bathroom and stopped when she was standing in the doorway. Rebel was standing over the toilet, one hand braced on the wall, the other holding onto the back of the tank.

“Are you okay?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

He turned just his head and looked over his shoulder at her. His short darker blond hair was a mess around his head, and his eyes were bloodshot. The scent of vodka also came from him strong enough she probably could have gotten drunk from the fumes alone.

“What are you doing down here?” he asked just as softly, and gave her a half grin. Even hurling after a night of partying he still could look so charming.

“I hope you didn’t drive this way.”

He shook his head and straightened before turning and going to the sink to wash his face and mouth. “You know me better than that.”