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Except you do have a choice…
At the reminder, a bitter smile crawls up my face. Gabe says something, but I ignore him, and scoot forward, flattening my lips, and closing my eyes, holding my breath.
I count to five, because any longer would probably draw concern.
But for those five measly seconds, in the darkness that resides behind my closed lids, I summon forth that pain that lingers there just out of sight. Lowering the wall just a couple inches to allow it to filter in, and spear me right through the chest.
Fuck.
And when it’s all trapped in my chest, knotted up in all its ugliness, then and only then do I release it, extinguishing the flame of the birthday candle while simultaneously releasing the shit that comes with this day.
I don’t make a wish.
I don’t see the point.
Not anymore.
My friends cheer, and Gabe throws his arms around me, giving me a big drunken kiss on the cheek.
Scowling through a laugh, I shrug him off.
“Bottoms up, Jer!”
And a row of shots appear before me.
I glance at Gabe, and he wags his brows, grabbing one. “I’ll help,” he says, and I roll my eyes, plucking one of the glasses for myself.
“To twenty-fucking-one, baby!” he yells, and we clink glasses, before tossing the tequila back. Someone hands me a lime, and I quickly shove it in my mouth, making faces as I suck the juices from it to tamper some of the foulness of the liquor.
A warm, muscular arm comes around me, tugging me into a hard chest. “Fuck, baby, you smell good,” Sam says burying his face in my hair.
Biting back a smile, I meet Gabe’s glassy, amused gaze.
He mouths something I can’t make out—my mind too sluggish. But it looks like encouragement, so I just shrug and grin, and sink into the warm, strong body cradling mine.
Sam and I have been hooking up here and there the last couple months. He lives in the same apartment building I do—the one I managed to move into not even a month after returning home for summer break.
After the mother of all tense encounters with Mason…
I just couldn’t do it.
I needed out.
I thought I could handle it—being around him again, being home—but the second my defenses fell, I lost my mind.
Mom and Dad tried to convince me to hold out for the summer, but even they could tell I was crawling out of my skin, reverting back to my old hermit ways, barely leaving my room. I could tell it hurt them, but I also didn’t miss their relief either. Because moving me into my apartment meant they no longer felt obligated to stay in a house they’d rather much sell…
But can’t.
While, unofficially, the house hasn’t been up for sale for months—with each new offer coming in being rejected, to the point the realtor even started turning people away—they finally bit the bullet and told the realtor to take it off the market.
So, now, it mostly just sits abandoned, save for the cleaning lady my parents hired to stop by every other week to dust and make sure there are no issues.
“Hey,” Sam says into my ear, his voice gruff in that way I love, vibrating over my skin.
Tugged back to the present, I twist my head, meeting his glittering black orbs.
He licks his lips, and something stutters in my chest.
