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“I don’t have to choose sides to be there for my friends, Chip.”
“I know. And I appreciate you.” I sling an arm around her shoulder and smoosh my cheek to hers. “I really love you. You know that, right? My first friend in a new town. My best friend,” I ramble.
“I love you too, you lush. Now listen. You have a really bad habit of keeping people at arm’s length, like you’re ready for them to give up on you. Even when we don’t deserve it.”
I drop my arm. No hugs for her when she’s being a meany head.
“Excuse me for being blindsided by his colorful past,” I mumble.
Sam waves her hand. “You can’t hold his past against him anymore than he can hold yours against you. His past is his past and yours is yours; nothing’s going to change it.” She takes a sip of water before continuing. “What you need to figure out is if you can see forward—if you can move past this and see a potential future for the two of you.”
“How am I supposed to see anything?” I snicker. “I’m damn near seeing double. But anyway, do you see him beating down my door to talk to me? Cause I sure don’t.”
“You’re not being fair right now and you know it. You’re stubborn, Chip, sometimes to your own detriment. But don’t you think you’ll feel better no matter what happens if you talk to War and clear the air?”
I see the sliver of reason in her words. I’m not planning on leaving town, and a feud with the town prince is probably ill-advised. But I don’t know if I’m ready to talk to him about it.
“I’m ready to go home now.”
Sam rolls her eyes at me, but we pay our bar tab and she drives me home. Getting back to the bar in the morning for my car is going to be a bitch, but I’m in no condition to drive.
I wobble my way up my front porch and unlock the door before turning around and giving Sam a hug.
“Thank you for being my friend,” I whisper into her hair, trying not to cry.
She rubs my back and squeezes me to her for a minute before pulling back.
“You’re welcome. Go inside. Drink some water, take a few pain killers, and go to bed. I’ll be over in the morning.”
I nod and open the door before flicking on the living room light.
The house is silent and cold. The open floor plan mocks me.
Maybe I should get a dog. One who’ll be happy to see me when I get home and hopefully remove some of the crushing loneliness that comes with actually being on my own.
I stumble through following Sam’s orders, first drinking some water and then taking some ibuprofen. It takes me what feels like ten minutes but is probably much less to get to the top of the stairs toward my room, and there are a few near-death misses as I climb the death trap.
In the bathroom, I strip and start the shower, wanting to wash the day away. Once I’m done with that and dry, I crawl under the covers of my bed and get hit with the spicy smell that is Warrick.
Not having washed my sheets since he was here last means his smell is still on them, and pain lances my chest.
Do I really push people away and keep them at arm’s length? Is that really something that I’ve done to keep myself safe from being hurt?
The more I think about Sam’s words, the more wisdom I see in them until my breathing is choppy and I realize that I didn’t even really give Warrick a chance.
Not a real one anyway. I just assumed that he had nefarious plans and cut him off.
My last thought before I fall asleep is that I haven’t been fair to either of us.
And that’s on me to fix.
* * *
“Wakey, Wakey, eggs and bakey.” The singsong voice sends a shard of glass through my brain, and I groan and roll over to bury my head in the pillow.
“Sam, if you value your life you will leave.” I groan.
She ignores me and walks to the drapes, flinging them wide open and letting the weak winter light into the room.
