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As I sat up, the vile taste in my mouth overwhelmed me. I sniffed the air but there was nothing around me but the scent of lemon. Not like the mornings during the worst of my addiction. Waking up in my own vomit was gross but not uncommon.
I glanced around and spotted Reed sitting in one of the leather chairs near the fireplace, staring down at his clasped hands.
The firelight illuminated his face. A profile that, if I was an artist, I could sketch from memory alone.
He looked devastated.
Or was I just seeing myself in him?
“Reed,” I called out his name in a hoarse whisper.
He shot up out of the chair and rushed over to my side.
I shook my head, dizzy and lightheaded.
“Jesus, Tate, you scared the shit out of me,” he replied and offered me a glass of water.
I gratefully accepted it and washed away the bitter taste of bile.
“Sorry,” I croaked out, then took another long gulp of water. “How long have I been out?”
“Not long. I was going to call an ambulance, but Korry checked you over and said that you’d be okay.”
“He’s a doctor as well as a bodyguard?” I griped, my jealous flare igniting.
“No, he was in the military and has seen a lot of medical emergencies.”
“I need to call my sponsor,” I blurted out. “While you were saying goodbye to Korry, I… I had a horrible flashback about my stepdad, Kenny. Fuck, I want a hit. I want it so bad. I’m so fucking sorry.”
The tears came again, and the full body shakes along with them.
There was so much to lose now. Too much.
“It’s all right, love, it’s okay,” Reed murmured and pulled me into his arms.
His familiar scent and his soothing touch made me cry harder.
“I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to get through this together, just like everything else.”
“Why? Why are you even with me?” I muttered against his shoulder. “You could do so much fucking better.”
“No! And don’t say that again.”
Reed pulled back and his gaze burned into mine.
“It’s true,” I implored. “I act like I have it together, but the truth is, I’m a fucking mess. It’s taken me so goddamn long to come to terms with my sexuality. I don’t know if I’ll ever be the confident person that I play. Don’t you get it, Ree? I don’t know who I am. I’ve spent most of my life wishing I was someone else or pretending to be someone else. Tate Aduma is a character I created. He’s not real.”
Reed sighed but didn’t let go.
“No, love, you’ve got that all wrong. You—” He paused and cupped my face. “You are the only real thing. Look at everything you’ve accomplished, despite the horrible shit you’ve been through. You, Tate Aduma, are a stubborn, ambitious, infuriating, smart, beautiful, talented man.”
“Ree—”
“I’m not finished,” Reed continued, “You’re the man that I love. And I see you very clearly, the good and the bad. I see it all.”
“Baby, I?—”
“You told me you loved me. Was that a line?”
