Page 42 of Penny For Your Thoughts
“Are you ready?”
Another chuff, and Echo wagged her tail.
We were both glad to get out of the dusty closet of a security room, although the cool March air did nothing to calm me down.
***
I sat in the café parking lot where I was to meet Doyle. Convincing myself not to drive away took willpower. Muttering a pep talk and strangling the steering wheel until the leather creaked, I considered calling Tallus. Hearing his voice would center me, but I didn’t want to admit how apprehensive I was at the notion of sobriety. Howremaining in the endless loop of suffering, one failure after another, was easier.
Tallus would remind me I was strong, but I didn’t feel strong. Not today. For the first time in my life, I wanted to flee, and I was not usually one who chose flight over fight. But I also wasn’t sure this was a fight I could win.
Maybe I was a coward after all.
Echo panted, tongue lolling as she peered across the middle console with her happy dog face and squinty golden eyes. It was hard to be stressed in her presence. Her patience was unending. She would sit there all day until I was ready, and she wouldn’t complain.
I thumbed the power button on my phone and stared at the wallpaper before it went dark. I tapped it again. Stared. Smiled. It was a picture of Tallus, chin resting in his upturned palm, seductive bedroom eyes peering at me from behind his newest pair of come-fuck-me frames. Seeing him never failed to make my stomach swoop.
He was perfect, and he was mine. He loved every fucked-up part of me.
I would do anything for Tallus. Anything. He deserved the best version of me possible, and if that meant wading through hell and tackling this addiction monster, I would do it.
I clicked the power button one last time, savoring a final look at my sexy boyfriend before getting out of the Jeep with Echo and heading inside.
Aslan Doyle side-eyed my dog as I approached. He noted her vest and seemed to come to a conclusion since he didn’t ask the stupid and invasive questions most people asked. Smart man. I wasn’t good at biting my tongue, and I’d promised not to be an asshole.
I sat, and Echo slipped under the table to lie across my feet. She knew the drill at restaurants, and her weight anchored me to the present.
“You made it,” Doyle said once I was situated.
“You say it like you didn’t expect me to show.”
“I wondered.”
I couldn’t make eye contact, so I scanned the dining area instead, noting everyone present.
“How have you been doing?” he asked.
I shrugged, knowing the gesture didn’t convey even an ounce of the anxiety I’d been feeling over this meeting.
Uncomfortable silence prevailed.
A waitress took our orders and brought drinks.
I jittered a knee but stopped when the table jostled.
“Nervous?”
“No,” I snapped.
Doyle nodded, clearly not believing me. “Tell you what. I’ll go first. I get that vocalizing your struggles is difficult. I’ve been there, but we won’t get anywhere if we sit in silence. You have to be willing to be vulnerable.”
“I’m not good at that.”
“No one is at first. We don’t know each other, Krause. Opening up to a friend is hard enough, but I’m practically a stranger. Whatever you tell me, I will keep it in confidence. I hope you give me the same courtesy.”
As hard as it was, I met Doyle’s gaze and nodded.
“I had my first drink in high school, but it was college when things got out of hand. I was rarely sober. Attended every party there was and pretended I was in control. I told myself I wasn’t an addict even when I drank every night. Even when beers with the guys turned to beers by myself. When they became midmorning pick-me-ups. When I poured whiskey into my coffee at seven a.m. before class. Nope. It wasn’t a problem. I could quit anytime I wanted.”
