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But because I took the choice from him, and now he won’t have a chance to beat himself up over it when he tucks tail and runs. Now he won’t have to try to muster the courage to come back, face me—approach me—all on his own.
As if I’d ever turn him away…
But in that complicated, twisted-up, anxiety-ridden brain of his, it’s no matter if it’s me or even his parents…some part of him will actually think he’s not worth our time.
If I didn’t piece it together that day in his bedroom years ago, after walking in on him hurting himself, when he all but spelled it the fuck out—I don’t want to burden anyone—I’m sure I would have at some point in the last six months since I got sober, with insomnia as my new friend and years’ worth of shit and regrets to stew on.
Now, though…
Now, all of that is forgotten, as a perfectly spaced path in the crowd forms, one that leads me directly to him.
Jeremy straightens when he sees me striding straight for him.
And whatever doubts I had before that this couldn’t possibly be him—Jeremy Montgomery, the boy I’ve always had to look for in the shadows. The one who hides behind long tangled golden blond hair and melts into his surroundings in his oversized clothes, and averts his gaze when a single look is aimed his way…
The one now currently standing out like a goddamn beacon in a crowded room with shorn hair that practically glows in the shadows pressing up around him—hair that’s been styled away from his face, rather than brushed forward to hide it—a thin long-sleeved shirt rolled up to his forearms that molds perfectly to his narrow frame, and black skinny jeans…
Those doubts are gone. They’re dust. As if they were never even fucking there to begin with. Because those eyes…
Those warm amber eyes widening at my fast approach.
I’d recognize this boy anywhere.
Jeremy.
One second his mouth is parting as if to say something, and the next he’s gathered against my chest in a fierce, forceful hug that pushes an Oomph from his lips as I lift his slight frame right off the ground, and swing him around.
He sucks in a sharp breath, and throws his arms around me, more out of reflex than anything—something to steady him—but that’s okay. I’ll take it.
“Mason,” he chokes out in a startled laugh. “What are you…”
My eyes squeeze shut, and my arms tighten around him. So tight, it steals his voice with a hitched gasp.
I missed you. Is that wrong? I think.
Deep down, some part of me knows it is. Not so much the fact I missed him, but how much I’ve missed him these last nine months.
But I don’t want to think about that right now. Right now, I just want to focus on the fact that I’ve got my best friend back after months and months of waiting as patiently as I could for him to come home.
Home…
Finally, slowly, I lower him to his feet.
He quickly pulls away from me, but when I open my eyes, I find him arching a completely unobscured brow, and it just…
Fuck, it absolutely pummels me how…how free he looks.
Free and…and…
My heart slams against my ribs.
He crosses his arms, shoulders rigid as he chews his lip, darting paranoid looks around. “People are, um, looking…”
Right.
Blinking out of my daze, I tune into the crowd of people gathered around us. Most are in fact not looking at us—they’re too busy sloshing drinks about as they sway and sing to the music I’m only now registering playing from the speakers.
But rather than try to assure Jeremy no one’s actually staring at him—at us—because I know some are…and not for the reasons he’s probably building up in his head…
