Page 55 of Last Destination

Not that I really knew what that meant, either.

I was completely out of my depth with no cell service to dive into a WebMD rabbit hole.

The bus hit a bump the size of a fucking Jurassic tortoise and I gritted my teeth at the interruption. Between the amusement park ride I never signed up for and this anxiety spiral of doom, I wished I’d requested some sedative, too.

“Stop it.” The low words came from beneath Nikki’s bowed head.

“Stop what?” I muttered, relieved to hear his voice, but perplexed by the command.

“I can feel your spiral from here.” Nikki raised his head and slowly turned, looking me in the eye. “You’re like a coiled spring when you get this way, have you noticed? You’re radiating panic.”

“I am not panicking,” I grumbled, irritated by his uncanny ability to read people even half drunk. “You’re not speaking to me. Marley’s in a coma. What do you expect me to do?”

“I’m not speaking to you because I’m hungover as all hell, and I don’t want to consider a future without you or Marley. Sue me.” He pressed his head back against the vinyl and let out a long sigh.

“Sooooo,” I tentatively drew out the word, “you’re not mad at me?”

“Mad? I’m fucking savage.” He drummed his hands against his knees as if it was the only part of his body still alive. “I’m yearning for a man who doesn’t even want to come back to my home to see me. And the worst part is it's completely logical.” His voice rose louder with every sentence. “Of course, you don’t. Two weeks don’t change a lifetime, no matter how traumatic, isn’t that right? The plane part, completely understandable. But me? I’m mourning a life I might have had.”

Christ, he was dramatic when he was in withdrawal. Or, in this case, suffering the consequences of not being in withdrawal.

“At what point did I say you weren’t in the picture?” I hissed, aware his antics were bringing curious stares, especially since we were speaking in English. “I’m a pretty shitty actor, Nikki. Better than Marley, but if you think I’m making up the attraction or caring for you, you’re just dumb.”

“I’m not dumb,” he shot back, sticking out his lip like a petulant child. “I’m being realistic.”

“I don’t even know what my options are!” I argued, reaching for his hand and squeezing it between my fingers. “Nik, I’m pretty sure my company voted me out when we were stuck in the jungle. I was on a razor’s edge as it was. I don’t know if I have a job to go back to. Hell, I don’t know if you or Marley will want me when the shine wears off and you realize I’m actually a fucking asshole who hates people and hates change.”

I tugged his hand into my lap and caressed the pads of his fingers with my own, feeling each individual scab and scrape from our week in hell. “You think you’re insecure? Welcome to the fucking club.”

“So, I’m still in the running?” Hope bloomed in his eyes, and now that I could see both of them without those stupid broken glasses covering one, the vivid, brilliant green and warm gold held me completely captive.

“Did my feelings just evaporate because I may get a hot shower today and be able to check Instagram for the first time in weeks?” I blew out an aggressive breath through my lips. “No, Nik, they haven’t. But I’m just as tired as you are, and I don’t have a fortuneteller in my back pocket, so let’s give things a few days, okay? Let’s get clean, and Marley back to baseline.”

I brought his hand to my lips and pressed a gentle kiss to his worn knuckles. “Next time, can you just talk to me instead of burying your feelings inside a bottle?”

His eyelids fluttered closed, and he huffed a forceful breath through his nose. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at regulation.” He squeezed my hand in a death grip as if the next words brought him physical pain to say. “Until the crash, I hadn’t gone a day without a drop in nearly fifteen years.”

Shit. Since he was a teen? No wonder he was struggling.

“Couldn’t resist a party, huh?” I immediately cringed at the terrible joke. I was about to take it back when his hand went from a death grip to completely lifeless and his words made me do the same.

“My equal love of the sexes never matched the ‘traditional values of the crown.’” He forced a shaky laugh, but didn’t open his eyes to look at me. “I got caught in my youth and paid the price for it with boarding school and a modern version of conversion therapy. I loathed myself. Alcohol let me loathe myself less.”

Oh, fuck me. I knew what it was like to live under the rigorous rules of an intense family, but mine was from the pressure to perform and live out a legacy. Would my father care if I told him I was bi? He wouldn’t love the idea, but he might even be relieved. My divorce from Theresa was a family embarrassment, and now he could use my sexuality as the reason.

But conversion therapy? Never.

The back of my throat burned with compassion, but I swallowed it down before all of my own confessions could escape.

“I know what it's like to never meet expectations,” I said instead, rubbing small circles over the tight skin along the back of Nikki’s hand. “But I hope you don’t loathe yourself now. You’re pretty special, Nik.” One eye flickered open, the side glance of golden green hesitantly meeting mine. I nodded toward the seat to our right. “I’m not the only one who thinks so. Maybe it’s time to lean into what makes you great instead.”

A hum came from the back of his throat. “Yeah. Maybe.”

I continued to hold his hand between our thighs on the sticky seat in silence, only releasing it when the bus driver let us off on the outskirts of the city. From there, Nikki had arranged for a town car to pick us up, courtesy of his sister. The driver looked like he’d sucked on a whole lemon, his face puckered with disgust when he held the door open for us to get in and he drew up the glass partition without asking as soon as we all settled into the car.

That drive took another hour, Marley still under partial sedation and requiring two of us to keep her upright between our shoulders for the entire trip. When the chauffeur dropped us off in front of a beautiful glass and stucco two-story building overlooking the ocean, relieved tears made their way down my cheeks as we dropped our meager belongings in the foyer.

“I will get her situated.” Madman carried Marley up the open metal and glass stairwell to a loft bedroom just visible at the top, and Jamie immediately went toward the open kitchen area to the left where, according to Nikki’s sister, the fridge had been stocked. So, too, had the large bar at the back of the open living room, and my heart sank watching Nikki hold up each bottle and scan the labels and their contents like they were precious jewels in his family’s collection.