"Nothing," I mumbled, embarrassed to be caught in my ritual. "Just something my sponsor taught me."
Dex nodded, not pushing further, and I felt a rush of gratitude for his quiet understanding.
"So, about that girl with the pink hair..." he said with a mischievous grin.
"She's just someone I've noticed, that's all," I said, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. The pink hair comment kind of gave away who I was talking about. It wasn’t exactly common around here. “Not that it matters. I'm not... it's just not a good idea right now."
"Says who?"
"Says every recovery book ever written. Dating in early sobriety is a recipe for disaster."
"Who said anything about dating? Maybe you just need a friend who isn't me or your brothers. Someone who didn't know you before. Besides, it’s not like you’re in your first week, Xander. You have to pick up your life again at some point."
"I will. I am," I said firmly, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up my neck. "Like I said, bad idea." Even if all the ideas of what I wanted to do to her kept me awake most nights.
"Why is your face doing that?" Dex asked, waving his hand in front of me and I quickly slapped it away.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You went starry-eyed and then got that same expression you had when I almost convinced you to jump off your grandfather's barn roof."
"When you almost convinced me to nearly kill myself you mean?" I shook my head in exasperation as the memory came back. Did I mention that Dex might have been a bit reckless when we were kids?
"I still think the mud would have broken your fall!"
"It was a puddle," I deadpanned. "And it was only an inch deep."
"There was straw in it too, and there was probably a squishy layer at the bottom."
Dex shrugged like I was worrying about nothing and I decided that the next time we were at the ranch I was recreating that damn puddle and making him climb onto the barn roof. Then we'd see how much he thought jumping would be.
Second thoughts, he'd probably do it just to find out for definite.
He might be infuriating at times, but I kinda liked having him in my life.
"How on earth did we survive this long?" I laughed softly as thoughts of all our other misadventures filled my mind.
"No idea. But seeing as we did, might as well make the most of it, right?"
Make the most of it.
We were back to that damned unanswered question then.
What the hell was I going to do with the rest of my life?
Last night's nightmare flashed through my mind—the one where I was back in the ER, a critical patient coding in front of me, and my hands were frozen, useless. In the dream, the patient's face kept shifting between strangers and people I loved, but I couldn't save any of them. I'd woken up drenched in sweat, heart pounding.
I hadn't told anyone about the nightmares. Not even my sponsor.
"Hey," I said, changing the subject. "Did Booker tell you about Jasper's pushing his offer to fund the rehab center expansion again?"
Dex's eyebrows shot up. "No, he didn't. Your old man's actually opening his wallet?"
"He tried," I said, feeling a strange pride. "Booker turned him down. We want to build this ourselves, prove we can do it without his money."
"Bold move," Dex nodded appreciatively. "Risky though, isn't it? That kind of facility costs a fortune."
"Yeah, well, some risks might be worth taking." I found myself smiling despite the weight of everything we'd discussed. "We've got a good plan. And we've got something to prove—to ourselves more than anyone else."