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Casey’s cheeks flush and he scratches at the stubble on his jaw, chuckling. “Charlee doesn’t need makeup. She’s beautiful the way she is. And I already notice her,” he adds with a sideways glance.
“I know that.” I fold my arms over my chest. “So why aren’t you making a move?”
“Should I?”
“Well, do you like her?”
He stands and walks back to the kitchen, returning with the drinks we left there. I'm still unimpressed with my juice box. “I thought we were talking about you and my new niece or nephew.”
I level him with a look, making him laugh.
“Do I like her?” He runs a hand through his hair before he flashes me a grin. “Only for the last ten years or so.”
It’s after eleven when I finally tumble into bed, having watched Casey drink way too many beers while I crushed seven grape juices and ultimately felt like my bladder was going to explode.
I plug my phone into the charger and wait for it to power up, pulling at my lip.
I’m unsurprised to find six missed calls and seven texts from Avery.
Avery: Claire, where are you?
Avery: I went to your apartment. You’re not there.
Avery: Are you ok?
Avery: Please just let me know you’re safe.
Avery: Casey called. I’m glad you’re safe. You can call me anytime.
Avery: I can’t take this. I hate being without you, and I hate fighting.
Avery: I love you.
I just finish reading those texts when a new one rolls in, and those tears I tucked away a couple hours ago come streaming down my face again.
Avery: I can’t sleep without you. I miss you so much. My heart hurts without you.
We haven’t spent a single night apart since we started dating. Not a single one. He’s wrapped around my body like a koala bear every night, and I feel empty and lost without him here.
So I start typing out a message back, telling him how much I love him, that I’m sorry for being stubborn and irrational, and that I can’t wait to see him tomorrow, to kiss him, hug him. My thumb hovers over the send button while I reread my message, making sure it’s perfect.
But before I can send it, the bedroom door whips open, and the slice of moonlight streaming through the window illuminates Casey’s heaving chest.
“Claire. Get up. We need to go.” He flips on the light switch, letting me see the tears soaking his cheeks, his frantic face.
“Dad’s in the hospital.”
***
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Avery
She left me on goddamn read all night, those three little dots squirming around the screen, as if she’d passed out in the middle of responding. Had it seriously been that easy for her to sleep without me? Because I didn’t sleep a fucking wink. I gave up at 3:38am and went down to the gym.
That’s why I’m storming through the front door of the brewery at 8:30 this morning, hopped up on caffeine and hellbent on seeing Claire. I refuse to go a minute longer without talking to her, hearing her voice. We need to fix this, and I’ll drag her out of here if I need to.
I take the stairs three at a time, thankful for my long legs, and jog right by Julie as she calls out to me. Claire’s office is empty, again, but I don’t believe for a second that she called in sick. She almost never takes time off. If she did today, this is way more serious than I thought, although, to be honest, it’s always felt serious to me. Watching her pack her shit and haul ass away from me will do that, I guess.
