Page 144 of Before You Fell

I lift my beer to my mouth. “Cruz, while you’re standing there, grab these two fuckheads another beer.”

Cruz doesn’t move. “You have two working legs.”

“So does a table. I don’t see that fetching drinks either.”

Cruz sighs and heads toward the kitchen.

I take a long drink and look at Willow. She is smiling.

The three assholes are still talking shit. But I don’t hear any of it. All I see is her.

Cruz returns, handing out the beers.

For a while, the apartment becomes something close to warm.

Willow sits with a plate on her lap, eating a little while the guys talk over one another. I remain silent, allowing them to dominate the conversation, observing her eyes light up each time she finds something amusing.

They love her. But not the way I do. Thank fuck for that, because I’m possessive enough when I am behaving. But they love her.

So I sit here and let her have the room. No stage or spotlight. No need for me to drag every eye back where I am used to having it.

For once, I don’t want to own the moment. I just want to watch her live inside it.

The guys know I’ve changed since the hospital.

They have said nothing about it, but still they questioned me about Wills during our daily phone calls on tour.

I can see it in the way Cruz studies every move I make. It’s as if he is waiting for the old me to crawl back out and prove this was all just guilt wearing better clothes.

I know it too. Something inside me cracked and whatever grew back in its place does not fit the life I had before.

Later, while Willow is halfway through telling Jett about her rehab routine, Cruz catches my eye from near the kitchen.

“Phoenix,” he says casually. “Help me grab more drinks.”

There are already drinks on the counter. Fresh, open ones. Enough to keep Jax loud until Christmas.

Cruz sees them. I see him seeing them. So whatever this is about has nothing to do with drinks.

I set my beer down and stand anyway.

Willow glances between us, but Cruz is already heading to the kitchen.

I follow because he has earned the right to say whatever he wants to say.

We move far enough from the living room that the voices blur behind us. Jax says something obnoxious. Willow tells him he is unbearable.

Cruz opens the fridge, stares inside, and takes out absolutely fucking nothing before closing it again.

Real Subtle.

I lean back against the counter, folding my arms. “You drag me in here to admire the condiments?”

He turns to face me and I see the charm has gone.

“If you fuck with her again, I’ll kick your fucking ass.”

“I know.”