ling to myself, I have to admit, it was fun.
“What?” Boone nods his head toward me as he reclines on the couch.
I shake mine, still smiling all stupid. My high is in full swing. “I was just thinking about how much fun you were today.” One thing about methamphetamines? They make you brutally honest. “I wish you could be like that more often. Just confident, not cocky.” I eye him.
This actually gets a quick smirk from him. “Well, have dilemmas you need help with all the time, and I’ll come to the rescue.”
I roll my eyes, and move to sit on the arm of the couch. “What is with your freaking hero complex?”
“I like doing what I can for other people.”
“Meaning”—I use my fingers to make air quotes—“saving other users.”
He shrugs a shoulder. “I told you before, it keeps me straight. Takes away the boredom.”
“So it’s a completely selfish thing, this need to save me.”
He seems to get uncomfortable and adjusts his position, pressing harder into the couch cushion. “We’ve had this conversation before, Melody. Let’s leave it alone this time.” He frowns. And I know it’s because I’m high. I’m pushing his buttons. Causing him to crave.
Guilt pools in my stomach, and I almost ask him to leave. But then I remember why I even wanted him here in the first place; to help him relax. It’s the least I can do after he did help me today. Getting me past the cravings so I could ride and at least win one race. That high far outmatched the one burning through me now, that’s for damn sure.
But this one isn’t bad.
I scoot off the armrest and plunk down onto the seat. Bounce a couple of times to get closer to him.
“Mel…come on.” He rolls his shoulders, easing himself away from my close proximity. “Look, falling off the wagon is a part of recovery. I’m not judging. I’ve been there.” He finally looks me in the eyes. “But I can choose not to commiserate with you while you’re hurting yourself.”
My mouth tightens into a clenched frown. “God, why do you do that?”
His head jerks back. “What?”
“Just…” I shake my head, trying to find the right words. “Just so preachy. I get it, okay? You do what you do to stay on track.” I run my fingers loosely through my hair, massaging my scalp. It feels so soothing. “Just don’t push it on me. Especially right now. Not feeling it.”
He huffs out a long breath. “Fine.”
He’s all tense again. Ugh. I scoot another inch closer to him, so our thighs touch. “We ever going to talk about the elephant in the room?”
No response.
“Okay, then I’ll just dive in.” I lean in close to him, rest my arm against the back of the couch. “Why do you brawl, Boone?” I trace a finger over the bruise purpling his cheek.
Looking down, he rubs a hand across his forearm, drawing my attention to the colorful tats decorating his skin. Finally, he shrugs. “If we’re going to play twenty questions, you have to answer honestly when it’s your turn.” He cocks his head in my direction and raises his eyebrows.
Yeah, I don’t like how he’s spinning this. But since I don’t have cable, or anything else entertaining here, I might as well play along until I don’t want to play anymore. “Deal,” I say.
Holding my gaze, he says, “I already told you that I lost someone close to me. But I didn’t tell you how.” He pauses, and I can see him debating just how much to reveal. “His name was Hunter. I just…I should’ve been the one watching out for him, but I always bailed. And that night, I got high—like really fucking high—and did what I did best back then. Found some chick to bang. Because being high and fucking was pretty much all that mattered.”
I want to tell him that it’s okay—that most guys pretty much roll like that. But I know he’s not done. There’s an ending to this average story that’s not so average, that will change everything, because obviously, it changed him. I bite my bottom lip, antsy, waiting. The crank working itself more into my bloodstream by the second. It’s hard to keep still.
“Anyway,” he huffs out. “The person Hunter was with wasn’t stable. She was a user, too, and she shot up more than her usual. She OD’d. Which would have been tragic enough on its own, but she was driving at the time…and they said she started convulsing. With Hunter in the car.”
Shit. I rest my hand on his arm. He doesn’t have to say it, to finish. I know the outcome.
“I was the one called in to identify them both. High. High like a motherfucker, looking down at the two, still bodies. And I could’ve just cashed out right then. Just ended it. I wanted to. But I’m a fucking coward. As guilty as I felt, as much blame as I owned, all I could do was think about getting another fix to dull my senses. To not think about them. About Hunter.”
He runs a hand through his hair, eyes wide, and shakes his head. “When I finally did decide to stop using, I found out that being sober sucked.” I allow myself to offer him a slight smile. “Everything you don’t think about while high, well, it pounds the hell out of you when you’re not. Demanding to be heard. I nearly lost myself in the guilt over what happened, and I couldn’t function. I decided that everything I enjoyed while high had to go.”
I lick my lips, my mouth so dry. “You cut out sex.”