Page 115 of Exposing Colorado

“We won't be needing that tonight,” he smirks, glancing over my shoulder. “Looks like you've got company.”

Following his line of sight in confusion, I turn toward the exit doors, and immediately freeze in place. My lungs forget how to work, heart lurching into my throat so hard I nearly choke.

“Hey, Sal.” Taylor stands at the back with a pissed off expression. Christian waits beside him, arms crossed and equally irritated. “Forget about us?”

My feet move before my brain can even process what I'm doing. I start toward them tentatively, picking up speed the closer I get until I'm running. Taylor's gaze softens as he throws his arms wide, and I collide with his body. My arms wrap around him tightly, a choked sob leaving my lips because they're here. They're here and they came for me and I'm not alone anymore.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” I blubber into his neck, yanking Christian closer so I can hug him, too.

“Four fucking months, asshole,” Tay mutters into my hair.

Christian huffs out a shaky breath. His arms lock around us tight. “You really thought you could get rid of us, chica?”

I shake my head against Taylor’s shoulder, tears streaking down my face. “I'm so fucking sorry for everything. I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry Logan’s gone. He's gone, and I couldn't save him. I fucked everything up so bad.”

I wish I could go back.

Taylor pulls back enough to tip my chin up, his expression more serious than I’ve ever seen it. “You didn’t fuck anything up, Salem. Life imploded for all of us. But you running away didn’t help.”

“I know, I just couldn’t… Everywhere I looked, I saw him. I still see him. This was the only way.”

At least, I thought it was. But now that they’re standing in front of me, I understand that facing this shit alone was a waste of time. I wasn't facing it, anyway; I was repressing it.

Tay swallows hard and wipes away my tears. “Then maybe it’s time you actually saw him.”

“What?” My fingers clutch onto his denim jacket, afraid if I let go he'll disappear forever.

Christian squeezes my shoulder with a smile. “We’re not just here to visit, Sal. We’re here to bring you home.”

“I…” Reality slams down around me, and I step out of both their holds. “How are you even here right now? Where did you find me?”

“Arya asked your friend Cedar for a favor. Guess she's friends with Symbiotic's drummer.”

Ah. Damn you, Cedar. You beautiful bitch.

Heaving a sigh, I cross my arms and glance over at Pepper—said drummer—as she eye-fucks the guitarist, Quinn. I tend to avoid those two as much as possible, though I feel that under normal circumstances, Pep and I could get really close. She's just a bit intimidating with her brightly colored contacts and dommy-mommy outfits.

Tay brings me back into the conversation when he pries my arms apart. “We'd have been here sooner, but did you know it takes fucking months to get a passport? Like, holy shit. Did not expect that.”

“I told you it would, cariño,” Christian argues, shoving his best friend's shoulder.

“You said it might. Not would. How was I supposed to know I'd need my birth certificate? Who the fuck just carries that shit around in their wallet?”

I can’t help the blubbery laugh that bursts out of me. God, they’re ridiculous. I’ve missed them so much it hurts. Still, I shake my head in disbelief. “This is insane. You crossed the entire world for me?”

Christian snorts. “Uh, yeah. You’re family, fool. We would’ve gone to fucking Mars if it meant getting you home.”

“Not just us,” Taylor adds with a grin. “Everyone’s here. Friendcation.”

The weight of their love crushes my chest, stealing my breath away. I look at the hope in their tired eyes as dread settles in my gut. “I'm thrilled that you're all here, but we aren't staying long. We’re off to Brisbane tomorrow.”

Though I wish we were. God, I wish I could wrap myself around them and never let go.

Tay tosses me an irritated look. “We're going to have a serious talk about you gallivanting off with my favorite band, but it's Thanksgiving, Salem. Spend some time with your family.”

“Australia doesn't have Thanksgiving,” I sigh, backing up a few steps. It feels like I'm falling apart all over again. “And I have work to do. I'll see you after the show, though, and maybe I can spend a few hours seeing everyone.”

But it'll kill me to leave again.