Page 105 of The Has-Been

The teal fabric with scattered pink and purple hearts is plastered tightly over my form, hiding little of the package I carry—but at least I’m covered as I slip out her door on my way to grab our clothes and two cups of coffee.

I’m standing at the end of the hall when I hear Brennan’s impression of a female’s voice.

“Oh, yes, Liam, take it off me!” He swoons mockingly.

My mouth gaps as I stall, hesitating instead of turning and heading back down the hallway so the idiot I’m gawking at doesn’t see me dressed this way.

But I don’t have a chance to flee as I make eye contact with Brennan.

I’m not sure which of us is more shocked at what we see.

Brennan—whose eyes go wide as they look me up and down, standing in the hall with my hand over my junk and Aubrey’s heart sleep shorts practically painted on me.

Or me, choking back a laugh as Brennan stands in Aubrey’s dress, clearly reenacting what he assumes happened last night.

I guess he’s not entirely wrong. That did happen, just in fewer words.

About the time we are silently having a standoff, Rory bursts through the entryway. She freezes when the door closes behind her. She slowly reaches for her headphones, looking at Brennan standing in a woman’s dress and me standing in a woman’s nightclothes. She bites her lip as she shakes her head.

“Look—” Brennan finally begins to explain as I still stand in the threshold of the hall and the living room.

Rory’s chest slowly begins to shake with silent laughter. Then she tips her head back, howling with amusement loud enough to surely wake the rest of the house.

She quickly fishes her phone out of her pocket to snap our pictures.

Brennan lunges for her, but trips on the dress and falls face-first.

Rory shakes her head as she steps over Brennan’s form on the ground, saying, “Sorry to interrupt your fun...” She starts down the hallway and calls back, “I’ll leave you guys to it.”

She chuckles as Brennan flips her off and chases her down the hallway.

I use the moment to collect mine and Aubrey’s clothes. Since they are still damp from where we did snow angles after I fell, I throw them into the dryer, unsure what to do with them, but know they are probably ruined regardless.

After heading downstairs, and deciding I could use a quick shower. I can’t help but keep thinking of last night, knowing my face probably says enough.

I can’t stop smiling.

Not just because of the mind-blowing sex…I mean, that’s partly it.

But because it felt like old times, like thousands of other times we lay together.

My stomach drops as I think about everything last night entailed, though—what her dad said, calling me his almost son-in-law, and how upset that made Aubrey. Then there was that comment from her mom—about Aubrey mourning…

Then I think about her panic attack at the hospital.

And as much as I want to be with her, to sleep with her, to fuck her.

I don’t want just parts of her.

I want all of her. Including whatever it is she isn’t telling me.

She’s seen the ugly part of me—the dark parts I don’t even let myself think of.

And that hasn’t stopped her. So what is severe enough that she feels like she needs to hide it from me?

Sure, I messed up before, lost myself. No matter how many therapy sessions, I’ve always blamed it on a thousand different things.

But that’s not the truth. Not really.