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My memory of that day is crystal clear. I hadn’t seen Killian for a year after my attempt, and suddenly there he was—seething, hurt, afraid, and awkward as hell. I’d understood him perfectly in that moment because I felt the same.
Truth is, I’d goaded him to hit me. I wanted it. For both of us. Because a good hit was simple. A good hit was something we both needed.
Despite myself, a smile wobbles over my lips. “You want to know the crazy thing? I preferred that response to silence. It felt like the real us, the way we used to be when one of us would piss the other off, and we’d settle it with a punch on the mouth before getting back to business.”
A broken laugh leaves Killian, and he leans back to scrub at his wet cheeks with the heel of his hand. “Nobody can piss me off quite like you.”
Snorting, I wipe my eyes. “The feeling is more than mutual.”
We sit in silence, each of us trying to get it together.
“You are my brother,” he says after a minute. “Life without you doesn’t … It doesn’t fucking work.”
Guilt washes over me, fresh and burning. “I fucked things up—”
“No!” His stern shout snaps between us, and we both flinch.
Killian sucks in a breath. “No, John, you didn’t. Not with this. That’s what I’m trying to say. You did nothing wrong. You are the strongest person I know. Don’t you ever fucking say this was your fault.”
He stares at me like he’s trying to slice through my skin. “I fucked up. The guys fucked up. We are the ones who let you down. It’s no different if you had a broken leg and we let you limp along.”
A short, humorless laugh escapes me. “It’s a little different. You can see the broken leg. You can’t see what’s going on inside my head.”
Killian shakes his head. “Maybe so. But when you tried, it was pretty freaking apparent that you needed help. I’m not going to let you down again.”
The determination in his voice has me turning to face him, and he stares back unflinching. “Whatever you need, John. Whenever you need it.”
“Thing is,” I tell him, “if it had been you who tried, I would have reacted the same way. I would have been pissed as hell that you didn’t come to me.”
His brows wing up in shock, and I give him a bitter smile.
“No one reacts perfectly. Don’t try to. I’m just over being the elephant in the room. Let it go, man. Treat me like before.” I glance his way and smirk. “Be the dickhead you used to be instead of the dickhead holding this shit between us.”
Killian rubs a hand over his face. “I can do that.” He sits straighter. “I will do that.”
“Good.” I clear my throat. “And thank you.”
He knows I’m not only talking about his agreeing to my request. His shoulder presses more firmly into mine. “Any time.”
We sit like that, propping each other up, not saying a word. And though it’s hard for me to admit it, even to myself, the physical connection and the familiarity of my oldest friend sinks into my bones like a balm.
Stella was right; I did need to hear this from Killian. I’ve been holding so much shit in—again—and never realizing it. Stella knew exactly what I needed and got it for me. Even though I stomped on her heart and cast her aside, she helped me.
The pain in my chest becomes bright and ice cold. All the miles I’ve run are a wasted effort. I can’t keep her out of my head or my heart. She comes crashing back in, so hard that I flinch.
Where is she? Does she hurt the way I do?
Stop thinking about her.
Killian eyes me sidelong. “My pet sitter called to tell me I’d better get my ass home and be there for my best friend. Now, you’re wearing a look I am way too familiar with because I wore it myself when I cut Libby loose. Talk to me, man.”
“Stella,” I croak. “I fell in love, freaked out, ended it.”
“Bonehead.” He slaps my head for emphasis.
I rub the spot absently, but it’s my heart that hurts, not my head. “She’s better off with someone who isn’t messed up. She needs someone dependable.”
Killian frowns as though smelling something rotten. “You’re seriously trying to peddle that bullshit?”
“It isn’t bullshit. I am unreliable. I’m a fucking mess.”
“And yet she loves you anyway.” He levels a hard stare. “Don’t give me that look. She called me right after you stomped on her heart. She loves you.”
Damn it, I am freezing. I rub at my shaking chest. “I doubt she does anymore.”
“Because it’s so easy to turn those feelings off.” He snorts. “How’s it working for you?”
“Not so great.” Understatement of my life.
