“She kicked me out of her life, Tackle. Not that I didn’t deserve it. I fucked up pretty bad.”
I’d heard the story from both him and Tara, and I had to admit I wasn’t sure she’d ever come around. She might’ve forgiven him for lying about his identity, since she’d done the same thing, but his accusing her of being in the art-forgery business with her father, who had also turned out to be innocent, was something she couldn’t get over.
“What do you think I should do?”
“Give her time,” I responded, regretting it as soon as I did. What had I said to Sloane? I’d told her I couldn’t be that guy anymore. I couldn’t be passive, sitting around, waiting for something to happen that never would and then, after months had gone by, giving up completely. “Forget I said that.”
Halo turned to me. “Said what? That I should give her time?”
“Yep. She’ll never forgive you if she doesn’t know how truly sorry you are.”
“I apologized, Tackle. It wasn’t enough.”
“Make it enough.”
“I wish I knew how.”
When Halo ordered another round, I joined him, wondering why in the hell I wasn’t following my own advice. My reasons for staying away from Sloane were twofold. First for her protection. Second, though, was me waiting until I thought enough time had passed that she might give me another chance. Another chance at what? What did I want from her? Until I knew the answer, I had no business asking for anything.
When Halo ordered his third shot, I agreed to join him only if he promised not to call Sloane to give our drunken asses a ride home.
“Poor peanut,” he muttered. “She’s got enough of her own shit to deal with.”
“Is she okay?” All the weeks she’d been inexplicably sick raced through my mind. I hadn’t talked to her since the doctor’s appointment she’d told me she had scheduled. What if something was seriously wrong with her?
Halo threw the shot back. “Yeah. Sorry, Tackle. I shouldn’t have said anything. I can’t talk about it.”
I put my arm on his and waited until he turned to look at me. “If she’s ill, you have to tell me.”
He hung his head. “She’s not. Not in the way you’re thinking.” Halo took a swig of beer. “I’ve already said too much.”
I suddenly regretted every ounce of alcohol I’d consumed. I wanted to get in my car and race over to Sloane’s place and dem
and she tell me what was wrong. And I couldn’t. Not shit-faced.
“Want another?” Halo asked, pointing at my beer.
“I think we’ve both had enough.”
“What made you ask me to come out with you tonight?”
The bar had gotten significantly more crowded than it was when we arrived. “I’ll tell you on our way out.”
“Copy that.”
“Where should we drop you?” Halo asked once we were in the cab.
“Same place you’re going.”
He rested his head against the back of the seat. “Sure, I guess you can crash there.”
I laughed. “Thanks, man, but I meant next door. I’m going to be living there while I finish fixing it up.”
He raised his head. “Seriously? That’s awesome. We can hang out all the time. I can even help you with it.”
“That would be great,” I muttered, wishing I’d asked him to take me to my parents’ place instead. How was I going to find time to see Sloane when I was with Halo twenty-four seven, either at work or at the duplex?
19