Page 78 of Scandal
That seems to bring her back a little. “Just us.”
I lean in, gripping her chin, almost ready to kiss those lips I’ve been dreaming of, when a knock comes at the door.
“Yes?”
The door opens, and Niall appears. “My lord, your guest is here.”
“Good.” I give Merc one last reassuring glance. “Bring him in?”
“Of course.” He disappears for a moment, and when he returns, he’s not alone.
But our guest? It’s not who I thought it would be.
“Evans?”
My longtime friend and the original bass guitarist for Manic at Midnight gives me a wide smile. “Hey, mate. Long time, no see.”
With a relieved smile and a reassuring pat on my shoulder, Mercury returns to her history lessons down the hall, allowing us some privacy to catch up.
Not that I know what to say.
Maybe that’s been my problem all along.
Evans has always been the quiet, perceptive one.
Growing up, Darius was always charming and funny. Mitch was cocky and a bit rough around the edges, despite his posh upbringing. And I was just angry. Angry and willing to do anything to change my fate.
“Thanks for not turning me away,” Evans says as we both take a seat on the velvet sofa. He’s cut his hair since the last timeI saw him. He’d let his honey-brown hair grow out a bit since rehab, but it’s back to its short style. It suits him.
He runs his hands over the rough denim of his jeans, looking oddly out of place. Although he also came from money, his father made his fortune in tech, so he wasn’t accustomed to the stuffy generational wealth the rest of us had.
I always liked that about him.
“That was my mum,” I say. “I had no idea Darius was even here that day.”
“Would it have made a difference?” He echoes the words Mercury asked when she first got here.
“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. “I wasn’t in a good place at the time.”
“I can appreciate that.” He nods. “I’ve been there a time or two.”
“I know you have, and I’m sorry to let you down after everything you’ve been through to come back to us.”
“I didn’t go to rehab for the band, Ash,” he reiterates. “I went to rehab because I’m an alcoholic. What decisions you or anyone else make don’t change the fact that I needed to go—for me, and only me. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah,” I acknowledge. “Of course it does.”
“Good. Then I need you to stop blaming yourself for everything that has happened to the band.”
“I—”
He holds up a hand, halting my argument. “You don’t think we don’t see it, Ash? Ever since Mitch, you’ve been different.”
“I just didn’t want to make the same mistakes again, but?—”
He shakes his head, already knowing what I’m going to say. “I am not Mitch,” he says. “I know you beat yourself up because you think you failed Mitch in some way, but he was the sole cause of his own demise, Ash. It wasn’t drug addiction. It wasn’talcoholism. It was just his own inflated sense of self-worth that took him down a path none of us could follow.”
I swallow hard, hating the memories of that time in our lives. I still remember the phone call from Mitch, begging me to help him out.
