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I nod.
“Liv is…addicted to love. Well, people, actually. It’s hard to explain, but this is only the second time she’s felt this way. She always avoided it, because the first time she was addicted to someone, some bad shit happened.” Day exhales slowly. “Tyler being Tyler, he forced his way in, and together, they’re insane. Their addictions mesh, Tessa. Him to her body and her to him in general. It’s both scary and fascinating to watch. They don’t even realize how good they are together.”
“Except we’re not,” I butt in, sitting up. I look at Tessa, my vision blurred. “We’re not good—not for each other. We are the very worst thing either of us needs because neither of us are strong enough to walk away. We’re stuck in an endless circle of craving and needing. His addiction feeds mine and mine feeds his. We are so fucking dangerous for each other, and every day, it gets worse because feelings get involved.”
“I missed something,” Day says quietly.
“It’s fucked. We are fucked, because if either of us was going to walk away, it was going to be me. But I can’t. Not now. I’m more than addicted to him,” I whisper. “Talking to him just now made me realize. Addiction hurts, but not this much. Addiction doesn’t slice your soul in two if you’re apart.”
My best friend takes a deep breath. I know. She knows.
I look Tessa in the eye, too afraid to meet my best friend’s gaze. “For some awful reason, I am completely in love with the guy. And emotion and addiction don’t go well together. It’s as painful as it is pleasurable, but I can’t stop.”
His twin stares at me. Her eyes give nothing away, her impassive face the perfect mask. Slowly, she steps toward me and crouches in front of me.
“If love doesn’t hurt, then you’re doing it wrong.” She reaches up and swipes her thumbs across my cheeks. “He is my brother and he is the biggest fucking arsehole I’ve ever met in my life, so I’m not just saying this for the sake of it, okay?”
I nod.
“He likes to think he’s big man protector where I’m concerned, but the guy couldn’t break the wings off a bloody fly.” She smiles. “He’s not perfect, Liv, and apparently, neither are you, but if anyone is going to love him, I’m glad it’s you. Maybe, when you both start living and stop fighting, you’ll see what I do.”
“What do you see? Because all I see right now is emptiness.”
“Put enough imperfections together and, eventually, you will achieve perfection. But even then, perfection is all about perspective. Maybe you and Tyler and your imperfections will make the kind of perfect you both need.” She cups my cheeks and kisses the top of my head. “Sit here, drink wine, and I will go and call my pain-in-the-arse twin to make sure he’s not taking a hammer to a door or something.”
“Um, say what?” Day calls after her as she darts out of the room.
Tessa reappears with our wine, which has been topped up, and has the biggest grin on her face. “When we were eight, he pulled the head off my Barbie and threw it down the toilet. In retaliation, I hid all his BB gun bullets in the pantry. This was around the time Mum decided to put a lock on the pantry door because he kept creeping in in the middle of the night.”
“I see where this is going.” Amusement hints at my lips.
“He stole the hammer from the shed and knocked the door down to get to them. I ended up with several bruises from all the times he shot me after that, but it wasn’t as bad as the grounding he got for breaking the door. Believe me. That boy had—and still has—a temper. As long as you can tame it, you’re fine.”
Day smiles at me. “Oh, she can tame it. You should have seen him when you called him to tell him about that dickhead.”
“I bet he went all caveman psychotic, didn’t he?” She winks. “Well, my ex-husband is still alive, so I’ll believe you can calm him down. Although, if you don’t mind, I don’t want the details.”
I smile now. “I won’t make you hear them.”
“Good. I’m gonna call him. I’ll be a minute.” She closes the door behind her.
I sigh, sip the wine, then set it down. Silence hovers between me and Day before I say, “Day?”
“Liv?”
“It’s okay if I love him, isn’t it?” I finally meet her gaze.
“It’s always okay to love someone.”
“Even if it doesn’t always feel good? Even if it kills you as much as it makes you feel alive? Then is it okay still?”
Her lips turn up sadly. “I don’t know.”
After three hours of putting truffles into tiny little bags, labeling them, and tying them, I was more than ready to crash and not wake up for a very long time. Unfortunately, my mind had another idea—thousands of them, in fact.
I spent the whole night tossing and turning and only got a couple of hours of sleep when I got a cab home at four a.m. The sleep was broken and restless, but it was there at least.
I yawn and scratch Angus’s head. “Oh, buddy. What am I going to do?”
