Page 17 of The Drummer

I push up from the leather chair to follow him toward the elevator, and our pact of silence continues on the awkward ride up. Even Aiden must sense the tension, because he’s uncharacteristically quiet.

The sound of walking has never been so loud, the distance to Luke’s suite so long.

The click of the lock is deafening.

He leaves the door open after entering to let me know I’m welcome to follow.

“I’m sorry,” I say once we’re inside.

“Don’t.”

“Luke…”

“Don’t,” he hisses, turning on me. “You of all people will not apologize to me. Ever. For anything. Got it?”

I wince and avert my gaze to the tile floor of the foyer.

His self-hating response only makes me feel more guilty.

I sense his gaze and almost choke when I meet it. It’s all there. Raw and messy.

The pain. The love. The regret.

How much he’s missed me, needs me, and is so fucking grateful I showed up. But he has no clue how to say it. And I have no clue how to acknowledge it.

So I swallow the words he doesn’t want to hear and pack them away with all the other unspoken truths poisoning our relationship.

I love you too, brother.

I miss you.

I wish you’d let me in.

I need you too. So damn much.

He blocks any chance for a heartfelt confession when his addiction to numbing the pain pushes him toward the bar.

I watch with a cracking heart as he fills a glass and kills the moment with an 80-proof bullet.

“You heading out soon?” he asks. I can’t tell if there was fear or hope in that question. Does he want me to leave or stay?

“Flight leaves at five. Have to get back for the Calisto Festival.”

He nods, but I can’t read his expression. “Since I ruined breakfast, order whatever you want from room service.”

“French toast?”

He doesn’t smile at my joke but I can tell he wants to.

“I’m going to lie down. Room key is on the island if you want to use the gym or pools.”

He won’t meet my eyes before disappearing down the hall with the crystal-glass best friend that’s replaced me.

I havezero intention of hanging out in a suffocating hotel room alone while Luke drinks himself into a stupor. A workoutsounds promising, so after changing into gym clothes, I head to the onsite facilities to blow off steam.

It feels good to strain my body instead of my soul for a while. With each machine and movement, I’m in control again. Only when my muscles are shaky with exertion and my mind is focused, do I let myself leave the gym.

I’m a new man when I head back to the room with a clear head and a few sandwiches.

---