Page 64 of A Totally Platonic Thing
I stepped out onto the little tiny porch area at the top of our stairs and called Aidan.
He answered on the first ring, probably waiting to hear from me like the fucking incredibly loyal friend he was. The background noise had dropped off; the bar had closed, and they were all cleaning up. I could hear a few voices and a clatter, but no music and no shouting.
“I’m sorry, but I need a favor, a big one,” I said without preamble.
“Lay it on me,” Aidan said. And I did. Everything. In brief, and leaving out a lot of detail, but explaining that Chris and I had gotten together, but that he’d promised me this wouldn’t happen again, and how I had to go back to school but couldn’t leave him alone like this. And how if Sebastian wasn’t around to pick up the pieces in the morning, I was frankly terrified of what might happen next.
“Hmm,” Aidan said, and went silent for a minute. “Okay, yeah. Shit, dude. That’s all fucked.”
“Yep.” Not much more to add. And that one syllable felt like it rhymed with the horrible cracking noise of something breaking inside me.
“Okay. Sebastian just texted me, actually. He’s been Xanax-napping since, like, seven, and he woke up. Is it okay if he naps again in your bed, if he comes over? I’m sure he will. Come over, I mean, but also nap. He’s going to be up for a while, but you know how much he likes to sleep.”
The fondness in Aidan’s voice felt like an additional punch to the solar plexus, like I fucking needed one. They loved each other. They were engaged, building a life together. Exactly what I wanted and didn’t get to have.
Although guilt hit me almost as hard. They’d had some serious issues. If Aidan could get over Sebastian’s parents sending him to prison, and deal with Sebastian’s panic attacks so smoothly, and Sebastian could get over Aidan having been his high-school bully…did I really have a good reason to run out on Chris when he needed me?
But the answer to that didn’t even take much thought. Sebastian’s panic attacks and Aidan’s criminal record weren’t Sebastian’s doing. He hadn’t chosen any of that. And Aidan’s behavior was in the past, over and done with. He’d proven himself.
None of that applied here.
“I’m sorry,” I said belatedly, feeling like a dick. “Is Sebastian okay? I mean, what happened? Stress, or anything worse?”
“Article in the news about his mom,” Aidan said with a funny edge to his voice somewhere between pissed-off and laughing. “She’s being prosecuted for securities fraud. Which is fucking awesome and hilarious, since Sebastian’s not listening to get upset about it, and it’s not like he doesn’t know she deserves it. But it brought up all kinds of crap, you know? He’ll be fine. He is fine. This was a one-Xanax night, and once he has coffee he’ll be totally chill. I wouldn’t have been so pissed about Chris tonight if I hadn’t already been late to work staying with him to make sure he was all good before I left.”
“Shit. I’m sorry. Don’t tell Sebastian I said this, but…that’s awesome. Aside from the panic attack thing.”
Aidan laughed. “Yeah, right? I think Sebastian’s going to be on the popping-the-champagne train himself tomorrow once he’s had time to process. Okay. I’ll go home soon, I’ll pick Sebastian up and bring him over and get him settled in. He probably won’t want me to stay, but I’ll text you. And he’ll have his phone. He has that spare key, right? So you can take off. We’ll be there in, like, forty-five minutes.”
I thanked Aidan profusely and then let him get back to work.
And then I had to go back inside, write Chris a note, take a shower, and go back to work myself.
I really didn’t know how I’d walk away, but I had to.
And it hurt more than anything ever had. Like my guts were being ripped out with a rusty wire.
Chris still lay in the same position when I went inside.
I went over to him and crouched down beside his bed. Jesus, he was so wonderful. I wanted to kiss him. Touch him, hold him, never let him go.
I allowed myself one brush of the lips on his cheek, savoring the softness of his skin, and one stroke of my fingers through his messy hair.
“I love you,” I whispered.
And then I walked away.
Chapter Fifteen
Chris
I woke up with a start, gasping, and my headache hit me like a freight train.
Where had I—home, okay, I was home. My bed. And there was Lucas’s bed. A flash of blond hair.
“Lucas?” I croaked, trying to turn over. Oh, God, everything hurt so much. I didn’t remember…I’d had a glass of wine…oh, fuckingGod.
“Wrong blond,” said a familiar voice that wasn’t Lucas’s.
