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She clinks her mug against mine. “Some things never change.”

No, they don’t. The guilt is still heavy. The secrets still burn. But at least I’m not alone.

“Drink your weak-ass tea. Then we’re ordering. I’m hungry.”

“B…”

“Non-negotiable.” She flops onto my couch, spreading out like a cat. “I’m too high to argue, and you’re too fucked up to win.”

Some battles aren’t worth fighting. Not when you’ve got someone in your corner who knows all your scars and stays anyway.

EIGHT

BRANDON

You’re not at your parents, not at Blake’s, so you have to be here.

My knuckles rap against her door before I can talk myself out of it. Again. The hallway’s too bright, too quiet.

C’mon, cupcake. Open up.

I bounce on my heels. I need to see her, to make sure she’s okay, especially after how she sounded on the phone.

The door opens a crack, and I’m face to face with Blake. Her hair is a mess, and her mascara is smudged under bloodshot eyes.

“Nope.” She moves to slam the door, but I wedge my foot in.

“What, no welcome cocktail?”I ask. “And here I thought we were friends.”

“Fuck off.”

“Where is she?”

“Not here.” Her lips curl into a sweet but toxic smile, the kind that could curdle cream. “And even if she was, you’re the last person she needs right now.”

“Didn’t realize you’d been promoted to her personal bouncer. Must’ve missed that memo.”

“No entry.” She scrunches her nose. “You smell like a distillery had a one-night stand with a bar floor.”

“And you look high as balls.” I point at her eyes. “We done stating the obvious?”

“You’re not getting in.”

“Watch me.”

“Jesus.” She rubs her temple. “What part of ‘fuck off’ isn’t registering? Need me to write it down? Use smaller words?”

“The part where you think you can stop me from seeing her.”

“Because you’ve been so concerned lately.” Her voice drips venom. “Too busy drinking yourself stupid to notice she’s—” She grinds her teeth.

“She’s what?” My pulse thuds hard in my chest. “Blake. Spill.”

“Nothing.” She straightens. “Go home. Sleep it off. Maybe try adulting for a change.”

“Not until I see her.”

“Why?” She lowers her voice. “So you can pretend to care? Play the concerned boyfriend for your little arrangement and then bolt?”

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