Page 46 of Don't Say You're Sorry

“I had a drink,” he calls after me, and I stop, my eyes falling shut. “It was only one. And it was a few hours ago. I can?—”

“No,” I bite out. “I’ll drive you.”

“Okay.”

Steeling myself, I turn around and walk back to him, feeling his eyes burning two holes into my lowered head. Wordlessly, I take his keys and climb into the driver’s seat of his car, doing my best to hide the rage simmering inside me as he slides in next to me.

“Easton,” he says hesitantly. “What just happened?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head, fighting like hell to keep my voice even. “Forget it.”

“E—”

“I said forget it, Adam.”

He doesn’t say another word as I drive him home.

CHAPTER 18

ADAM

Easton’s gone.

Not just out, butgone.

I don’t know where he is or when he’s coming back. None of us do.

And if this is even a fraction of the way he felt when I left him…

I hate myself.

CHAPTER 19

EASTON

FOUR YEARS AGO

“Which of these stars do you think have burned out?”

I turn my head to look at Adam, his hair tickling my nose. “What?”

“The stars.” He’s lying on his back on the lawn beside me, the joint resting between his pink, full lips, eyes fixed on the night sky. “Look at that one.” He points. “Say it’s ten thousand light-years away. That means we’re seeing it as it was ten thousand years ago, right? Do you think it’s still there? Stars live for millions of years, so they can’t all be gone. Maybe some of them, though…” He trails off, head tilted as I inhale deeply—weed, grass, and the sweet scent of his shampoo clinging to his hair. “Easton?”

“Hm?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“I’m listening to your voice. Does that count?”

He breathes a laugh, finally turning his face toward mine. “Hi.”

“Hi. Feeling good?”

“Mm. My lips feel weird.”

I chuckle, dropping my gaze to his lips. It’s his first time smoking weed. He’s usually pretty sensible, choosing not to indulge even when everyone else does, but today’s the fifteen-year anniversary of my mom’s death, and when I walked out of the party we’re at to smoke a joint in the backyard, he followed me and asked if he could have some. I hesitated, but only for a second. Adam’s a big boy. If he wants to get high, who am I to stop him?

How we ended up on our backs on the lawn, so close that I could count his eyelashes…not a clue.

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