My uncle seems miserable in his tasteless existence, and I deserve nothing less. But he’s also kind of a dick, so maybe losing his sense of taste is the universe’s way of serving him a big old helping of karma.Maybe that’s what’s happening to me. Or is this some new symptom of grief? Or guilt?
That kid lost his leg from a drunk driver.
Jesus, that could’ve been me. I could’ve ruined someone’s life the way Chase’s crash ruined mine. If that’s not a mindfuck I don’t know what is.
“Everything okay over here? You’re looking a little pale?” Beck rests his elbows on the counter and leans toward me.
“It’s December, Beck. Everyone’s pale.”
“Pasty then. Are you sick? You’ve barely touched your food.” His eyes are full of the concern I’ve come to loathe, though at least now it doesn’t stem from sympathy so much as worry I’ll spew what I’ve consumed all over the bar. I still hate the attention, but at least it’s about my ability to keep food down instead of the pity I don’t deserve.
“All good, just tired.”
He studies me for a second—looking for the lie I think—but when I don’t falter he sighs and heads off to serve another customer.
It’s rare for Beck to be silent, and I’m actually feeling a little smug that my stony face put him at a loss for words. If only that worked on everyone. I might reach the end of the day without the crushing headache I usually get.
I take a celebratory sip of beer, enjoying my moment of peace. That reprieve is short-lived when Hayden takes the seat next to me.
I smell him before I see him, and the cedar cherry—no almond—scent I now associate with him has my stomach doing backflips. Not the good kind, where I’m excited for the chance to rile him. The kind where I think I’ll care what he’s getting ready to say, and I don’t know how to handle that.
It’s been months since I cared what people said. What they thought. Aside from my parents, Mom in particular—whom I’m conscious oftrying not to hurt more than she already has been—I haven’t given two shits about anyone or anything. I know there are whispers behind my back, and I could probably guess what they are if I cared enough to try, but I really fucking don’t.
Hell, I can’t even find the energy to care about what people say to my face. They’re worried, they’re sorry, they want to help…blah, blah, blah. In one ear and out the other. Most of the time. Yet Hayden’s blunt explanation of what happened to Max has been ringing in my ears all day, and deep down I know that’s because I don’t want him to put me in the same category as the guy who hurt Max.
Why his opinion of me matters now, after I’ve spent weeks trying to piss him off, I don’t understand. Hell, it’s still in my best interest that the guy hates me so he doesn’t try to put me on the mountain. Yet for some reason my stomach twists at the thought of Hayden believing me capable of hurting someone else through my negligence.
Probably because he’d be right.
The thing is, he probably already thought that about me, butIdidn’t think that about me, so I convinced myself Hayden was being a jerk because he is one, not because I gave him reason to be.
And I have a feeling he’s about to call me on that.
I deserve whatever lecture he’s about to give, but I’m afraid to get it now that there’s a tiny crack in the wall I’ve built around myself. A crack that’s making mefeelwhen that’s the last thing I want. If that stupid crack is the reason I’m starting to care what Hayden thinks of me, I can’t risk it getting bigger. Maybe if I’m my usual charming self he’ll get so annoyed he’ll skip the lecture.
“To what do I owe this surprise, Frosty?” I keep my eyes carefully forward as I sip my tasteless beer.
“You didn’t tell me the reason you got a DUI.”Is that a trace of sympathy in his voice? I can’t handlethat right now.
“Does it matter?”
“As far as making a bad decision, no it doesn’t matter. It was reckless and selfish, and there are better ways to deal with your grief.” I breathe a little easier knowing he’s still pissed at me for that. I’ll take pissed over sympathy any day. “But maybe making a mistake doesn’t make you a bad guy.”
Oh hell no.
“Don’t play nice cause you suddenly feel bad for me.” I’ll be damned if I’ll accept his pity. Besides, if he starts acting nice it’ll take away what little pleasure I get from riling him up, and Ineedthat. I can’t explain why, I just know I do, and he’s the only one who can give it to me since he’s the only one that doesn’t hold back around me.
“This isn’t me being nice. It’s practical.”
“How so?” I twist my glass in circles on the bar top.
“A guest really wants to ride with you, and we want to give them a good experience. They’re only here for two weeks.”
“The kid?” It’s hard not to choke on those words. Why would anyone want me close to him when I could’ve been the one to hurt him?
“Max.” Hayden nods his head.
“You tell them why it’s a bad idea?”
