Page 86 of The Long Way Home
She groans into her drink. “I’m never drinking again.”
“Lies.” I shoot back.
“I’m serious.”
“You said the same thing that one New Year’s, then took Tequila shots out of a measuring cup.”
“Maybe I should stop drinking Tequila.” She peeks at me over the rim of her mug. “Why do you remember all of this?”
“I remember fondly, that’s all,” I say. “I enjoy ourfriendship.”
Her thumb presses into the ceramic mug, and she nods once, small. I nudge the donut box closer to her, just in case she raids it again.
“I, uh…” I scratch the back of my neck, gesturing toward the hallway. “I laid a clean towel out in the bathroom if you want to shower before heading home. The cabinet’s got spare clothes. It’s my stuff, but it’s clean. Big and soft. Whatever you need.”
She looks up. “Thank you, Rhett.”
“Anytime.”
She glances down the hall, then back at me. “Did you sleep on the couch?”
“Guest room,” I say, leaning on the counter with a donut in my hand. “Didn’t want to wake you. You were finally out.”
“You didn’t want to sleep in your own bed?” Her brow furrows.
I shrug and take a bite. “I figured you needed it more than I did.”
She stares at me for a beat, then drops her eyes. “Right. Thanks.”
I grin a little, trying to cut through whatever guilt she’s starting to spiral into. “Besides, you were starfished across the whole thing. No room for me even if I wanted it.”
Her head snaps up. “Was I?”
“Like a menace,” I say, grabbing another donut. “But a cute one.”
She groans, dragging the sleeve of my hoodie up over her face so she can disappear into it. Her hair flops forward, wild and unbrushed, and I can’t help the smile tugging at the edge of my mouth.
I lean closer over the counter, chewing slowly, watching her just exist—barefaced, bundled in my clothes, as she heads towards the bathroom. Her shoulders are still tense, but there is a smile on her face.
“I’m going to try and shower this hangover off me. Thanks again, Rhett.” She lifts her tea in a little wave as she disappears down the hall.
And hell, if she isn’t the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Chapter Twenty
RACHEL
Why is it so bright out? It’s completely unnecessary for a day like today. I pull my sunglasses lower on my nose, but it doesn’t help. Everything feels too loud. My head aches, pulsing with every car horn and birdcall. Why is everyone so cheery and awake already?
Ugh, I’m never drinking again.
Flashes of last night come back. Bits of him, of the cemetery, of myself. I try to push them away. I grip the steering wheel tighter as I pull into the driveway. The house looks exactly the same as when I left it. But I feel different. Blurry around the edges.
Ben’s car is in the driveway. I shouldn’t be surprised. He lives here, at least for a little while longer. I was hoping to avoid this conversation, at least until the hangover eased, but it’s impossible. It’s now or never.
I kick off my shoes by the door and toss my keys into the bowl. My stomach churns, and I know it’s not just the hangover. It isthe impending conversation that last night made impossible to ignore.
Just breathe, Rachel.
