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I knew what her response would be long before I got it, and I berated myself for already knowing what I would tell her when her text did come. I didn't even have to think about it, and that was a problem.
A big fucking problem.
I'll be right out to take him home.
My fingers hovered over the keypad as I stole a glance at Lucky. He was leaning back against the side of my truck looking completely worn out. But he refused to make eye contact with me. Instead he was staring off to his right at absolutely nothing.
"Are you ready to go?" I asked him.
He didn't ask where and he didn't ask about Minna or his apartment or anything else. All he did was nod his head. I wanted to believe it was because of his inherent trust in me to watch out for him, but I knew that wasn't it.
He was done. Just done. And I had no doubt I was the cause.
I helped Lucky into the truck and got him buckled in. He made no effort to assist me, nor did he acknowledge me in any kind of way. His bleary eyes stared out the windshield. I closed the door and went around to the driver's side of the truck. By the time I climbed into my own seat and got the vehicle started, Lucky's head had lolled to the side and his eyes were shut.
The ding on my phone reminded me of Minna's last message.
I sent Lucky one more glance and told myself the right thing to do would be to send him home with his friend.
That was the right thing to do.
But that wasn't what I did.
Instead, I quickly typed a message to Minna and hit send before putting the truck in gear and pulling away from the curb.
Taking him with me. He'll text you in the morning.
Chapter 8
Lucky
I was never going to drink again.
I remembered telling myself that same thing the last time I'd gotten drunk, which had been closer to the start of the school year. I'd just started seeing a guy who, thankfully, had been very comfortably out of the closet and hadn't looked even a little like Zach. I'd foolishly gotten my hopes up that it was a sign that I’d finally found what my fathers had with each other… or at least the start of it. Unfortunately, the guy hadn't gotten the same message from the universe because I'd caught him fucking his Biology TA the morning after our third date.
The asshole's insistence that none of it would've happened if I'd just loosened up and put out had been a stinging blow, and I’d spent the evening doing shots with my friends at a local bar. Min had tried to cut me off at a certain point, but I'd been too busy trying to silence the voice in my head that had reminded me that yet another man had found me lacking.
That was the night I'd met Davis Teasley. He'd flirted with me in the privacy of the bathroom when no one else had been around and when he'd put my hand on his groin, all I’d been able to think about was losing yet another cute guy because of some childish notion that my soulmate was out there waiting for me. By the time Davis had come all over my hand, I'd felt sick to my stomach. I’d wanted to blame the alcohol but my nausea and my regret had had nothing to do with the booze. It had felt cheap and easy, which was the complete opposite of what my dads had.
I’d figured I'd never see Davis again, but when he’d appeared at my apartment the next day with a bottle of aspirin and some soup, my naïve heart had fallen for all of it. We'd spent the afternoon in my bed and in between the hand jobs and then ultimately the oral sex I’d performed on him, Davis had held me in his arms and told me how amazing I was. I'd once again felt sick to my stomach, but there'd been this warmth in my chest that I hadn't been able to deny. I'd soaked up his praise, and in the following months, I'd eagerly dropped to my knees whenever he’d wanted. I’d convinced myself that the fact that he wouldn't be seen in public with me hadn't been a huge problem… that it was something we'd work through eventually.
The reality was that I just hadn't wanted to give up the feeling of being wanted by someone.
But it had never been about someone… it had been about one particular someone.
And that someone hadn't been Davis Teasley.
I wanted to curse the fact that I'd overindulged the night before when I hadn't had so much as even a drink after I'd learned Davis had a girlfriend, and a very pregnant one at that.
