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I can’t be that guy anymore.
I swallow another gulp of Coke. How is it possible to feel this empty? How did I let this even happen to me? To have these feelings about a woman…it was never supposed to happen. I’d trained myself to not show emotion, to not be impacted by a woman because it’s dangerous when mixing business with pleasure. My business is a dirty one, and it’s impossible to keep anyone clean and protected.
I get up from the couch, wander back into the kitchen, and drum my fingertips on the counter, waiting. Do I say something? Do I just let this go? Do I tell her that the pain from my beating is nothing compared to losing her?
Uh, no. I will not be saying that, for fuck’s sake.
These feelings are screwing with my head. Like I need any more help on that front. I’m messed up enough as it is.
I glance over the half-wall at my dad sitting on the couch. His head is leaned back, and his eyes are closed. How the fuck am I gonna explain this to Mom and Shaye when they get back from their trip? It was only a short shopping trip in the city. I don’t have a month to figure this all out.
“Max,” Dad calls out to me.
“Yeah?” I pick up my phone, staring at the screen, still trying to figure out how to keep this communication thing going with Sloane. I’m panicked that if I say the wrong thing, I’ll fuck myself forever.
Ha. As if I’m not already.
“What are you doing in there? I can hear you pacing. Nobody is going to storm the house.”
“It’s not that.” I let out a deep breath and slump against the counter.
“What’s the problem? I can’t fall asleep with your grunting and groaning.” He smirks and his eyes open. “I told you not to worry about me.”
“Well, ah, this time it’s not entirely about you.” I wave my hand in the air. “It’s Sloane.”
Dad’s eyebrows lift. “Sloane, as in Shaye’s best friend, Sloane?”
“The one and only.”
“So you finally made your move.” He sighs, his face twisting into a grimace as he shifts his weight. “About fucking time.”
“I guess everyone was watching and waiting, huh?”
“After seeing you together for so many years? Yeah. We all were.” He nods at my phone. “What’s the problem?”
I sink onto the couch next to him, my head in my hands. “Last night, I was on my way to pick her up for an event when Mikey jumped me.”
Dad nods. “You stood her up.”
“Again. So I could save you. And remember what happened on Thanksgiving?”
“How could I forget?”
“Well, I chose to go to Brooklyn that night and save Layla instead of going to see her.” I clutch my head. “And I saw Sloane this morning at the hospital.”
“Why’d you go to the hospital?”
I shake my head. “Long story. But she was there with some doctor who was drooling all over her. Rocco saw them together last night at Couzin’s. I can’t blame her. He probably won’t go running out on her because he found some sawed-off fingers in the front seat of his car, ya know?”
“Did you tell her—?”
“Hell no!” My eyes widen, and I sit up straight. “How could I? But she still saw me, like this, and she just texted me to see if I’m okay…” I groan and fall back onto the plush couch cushion. “I just want to be with her. I want simple. And happy. And easy.”
Dad’s breathing is labored. “That’s not our life, Max. It never will be, and you have to accept that.”
“What if I don’t want to accept it? What if I don’t want it anymore?”
“You know you don’t have that choice.”
