Almost-Moments

At some point during my shower, I’d decided that tequila was the best way to forget the crushing sadness and grief I’d been suffocating beneath all day. Hair wet and face scrubbed clean of all traces of my earlier tears, I hopped up on the kitchen counter and poured myself a shot. As it burned warmly down my throat, a nagging voice in the back of my mind suggested that alcohol wasn’t really the best way for me to deal with my multitude of issues. I quickly silenced that voice, throwing back two more shots in rapid succession.

When Lexi walked in several minutes later, I was feeling the best I had in weeks. I couldn't forget that today marked the fourteenth anniversary of my mother’s death – it was indelibly imprinted in my soul, ingrained in my DNA – but the tequila helped to dull the pain lancing through my chest and blur the edges of memories I didn’t want to see anymore.

“Ooh, we’re drinking!” Lexi exclaimed, swiping the tequila from my grasp and taking a swig straight from the bottle.

“Give it back, Lex,” I said, reaching out a hand. “I need it more than you do,” I added, muttering under my breath as I reclaimed the bottle and poured a fourth serving for myself. Lexi cheered in support as I threw back the shot.

“What’s this, by the way?” I asked, the tequila burning in my throat as I picked up the sheet of paper lying on the countertop next to me. It was an invoice for E.S. Electric, an electrician based in Charlottesville, according to the document. I wasn’t aware that we’d needed any rewiring done, and I sure as hell hadn’t requested it.

“Oh, this guy came by today,” Lexi said, snatching the bottle back from me and taking another gulp. “Our landlord sent him. He said he had to fix our wiring or something. Don’t even ask me what he did – I don’t speak engineer.”

“Electrician,” I corrected.

“Whatever!” Lexi rolled her eyes.

“Wait, our landlord sent him? The same landlord we had to practically take to court when our toilet broke, because he was so unwilling to fix it? The very guy who didn’t seem to care that the locks on our doors and windows didn’t lock when we first moved in?” I stared at her in shock. “Are you trying to tell me that he voluntarily fixed something and we didn’t even have to complain about it for six months first? And he paid for it, too?”

“That’s what I’m telling you,” Lexi grinned at me.

“Well, if that doesn’t call for celebratory shots, I’m not sure what does,” I giggled, reaching out again for the tequila.

Within the hour, Lexi and I had finished off half the bottle and were unabashedly twirling around the kitchen, slurring our words as we serenaded each other along with the radio’s latest hits.

“Lets go out!” Lexi squealed, hauling me towards her bedroom and pushing me down on her bed while she beelined for her overflowing closet. Too tipsy to argue, I clutched the tequila bottle to my chest like a lifeline and watched her shimmy out of jeans and into a slinky pink halter dress.

“Put this on!” She tossed a bright red scrap of material at my face, followed by a pair of spiky black peep-toe stilettos that nearly took an eye out as they careened past my face and landed on the bedspread.

Maybe if today hadn’t been what it was, and if I hadn’t already had too much tequila coursing through my veins, I might’ve resisted Lexi’s demands. Then again, it was hard to deter her even in my most sober, mentally-stable mindset.

My head swam as I stood up and removed my jeans, swaying into the wall as I tried to tug off my sweater. Lexi laughed at me when she caught sight of my struggles in the mirror of her vanity, where she was applying makeup with the speed and ease of a professional. By the time I’d managed to pull on the strapless red dress, which was so short on me it must’ve been a shirt on Lexi’s tall frame, she’d finished applying her makeup and began attacking my face with a multitude of brushes and powders.

Fifteen minutes later, we were in a taxi on our way to the bar. In my less-than-sober state, I didn’t think to ask Lexi where we were headed. I knew I shouldn't have been surprised when we pulled to a stop outside Styx, given Lexi’s newfound love interest, yet I was still shocked that she’d bring me back here. By the time I’d managed to formulate any kind of objection, Lexi had tossed a twenty to the driver and yanked me from the backseat, leaving me standing openmouthed as I watched the cab’s taillights disappear around a corner.

“Lexi, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, spinning around to face her and nearly falling flat on my face as my heels caught the pavement. Note to self: pivoting in five-inch stilettos while intoxicated is highly inadvisable.

Lexi laughed at me and shrugged, clearly unapologetic. “The band is great, the drinks are cheap, and it’s not like you even have to talk to Finn. Jesus, Brookie, you make it seem like the boy is some kind of obsessed stalker who steals your used tissues and photographs your every movement,” she rolled her eyes at the thought. “Seriously, he’s probably forgotten you by now. I mean, have you seen the boy? He’s not exactly hurting for attention.”

Ouch.

As bitchy as Lexi had sounded, I had to agree that when she laid it all out there like that, my actions over the last two weeks did seem a little ridiculous. It was probably presumptuous, arrogant even, to assume I’d so much as crossed his radar – let alone that he wanted to be friends with me. I’d likely been avoiding him for no reason at all. Suddenly, I felt as brainless as one of his drooling groupies.

“Damn, I hate it when you’re right,” I complained, linking my arm through Lexi’s as we bypassed the crowd waiting to get in and approached the bouncer.

“Billy!” Lexi squealed in greeting, placing a swift peck on the cheek of the obscenely muscular man guarding the door. I had no idea how Lexi knew him, but he immediately pulled aside the velvet rope to allow us inside. Lexi blew him a kiss as we cut the line and disappeared through the doors. I waved playfully at the line of club-goers still awaiting admittance, and their answering groans of complaint were quickly drowned out by an amplified voice that sent chills racing down my spine.

My eyes immediately found Finn onstage. Damn, he looked good. A tight black t-shirt put his well-built chest on display. Low-slung dark jeans graced his hips, and his dark hair fell messily over eyes I knew to be the darkest shade of midnight blue. I couldn't deny that he was attractive, wishing for the hundredth time that I could simply sleep with him without any emotional complications. I tried to remind myself that he was dangerous, that I couldn't get involved, that sex wouldn’t be enough for him – he’d want to know me.

Then again, he’d slept with all kinds of sorority fangirls without forming any sort of attachment – wasn’t I being conceited in assuming he’d treat me any differently?

Lexi shook me from my drunken mental ramblings, leading me to the densely packed bar. We wheedled our way to the front of the line, heedless of the pushing bodies and close-quarters. It was no great surprise to see Tim bartending again, and he recognized me as soon as I approached.

“Brooklyn,” he said, smiling. At least he remembered my name. “What are you lovely ladies drinking tonight?”

“Two Long-Islands, please,” I said, smiling flirtatiously. Maybe I’d get a free round out of him. I knew it was shameless and under normal circumstances I’d probably feel bad for encouraging him, but this guy was an ass and I was too drunk to care anymore. Unsurprisingly, he passed me the drinks and refused my money. I grinned in thanks, turning back to Lexi and passing her one of the glasses.

“Cheers, bitch,” she said, clinking her glass to mine and heading to a small alcove off to the side of the dance floor where several private tables had been set up. Most of them were occupied, but we managed to find an empty one near the back of the section, relatively far from the stage. Lexi, of course, was disappointed by our location, but I took comfort in knowing that I wouldn’t have to deal with Finn tonight, since he likely wouldn’t spot me back here. It wasn’t a huge club – we were only about 50 feet from the stage – but he rarely broke eye contact with the swarm of scantily clad girls writhing at the front of the crowd.

I sipped my cocktail and let myself appreciate the timbre of Finn’s voice as it flowed over me. It was seductive, deep and slightly rasping as he sang into the microphone. I remembered the first time I’d heard his voice, semi-conscious after my spill on the sidewalk. Even then, when I hadn’t known him, his words had resonated sultrily in my mind.

Lexi and I chatted idly and observed the frenzied crowd as we finished our first round, only breaking off when Lexi felt the need to comment on a particularly outrageous outfit or to cheer for the band between songs. We’d laughed ourselves through two rounds and nearly into tears when the band announced they were taking a half hour break. Despite Lexi’s earlier assurances that I had nothing to fear from Finn, when she went to find Tyler I excused myself and made my way to the bathroom in the back corner of the club. It was far from the bar and the stage – a perfect place to wait out the intermission and avoid awkward encounters.

To my surprise, the bathroom was nearly empty; like Lexi, the other female club-goers must’ve been enticed by thoughts of seeing the musicians on their break and opted to hold their bladders. I’d never seen a bar restroom so deserted, and I appreciated the quiet as I attempted to touch up my smudged makeup in the mirror.

I was drunk. I knew I shouldn't have let myself get to this level – I usually stayed in control – but tonight was an exception. I was far too sad to be responsible; too hurt to dwell in the memories. I’d needed an escape, and tequila had given me one.

An added benefit: the effects of the alcohol had fully numbed the pain I was sure would otherwise be crippling my feet from the skyscraper high heels Lexi had forced me into.

I giggled at the thought as I stumbled into a stall, hiking my micro-dress up over my hips and emptying my bladder. I hovered over the toilet as I peed, precariously balanced on my stilettos, and heard the door swing open as someone entered the bathroom. Flushing quickly, I readjusted my dress and walked to the line of sinks.

I’d just finished washing the soapy bubbles from my hands when I felt the tingling weight of someone’s gaze on my neck. Looking up abruptly in the mirror, I saw the reflection of a man standing a few feet behind me. I immediately screamed, spinning around too fast on my heels and grasping the edge of the sink to catch myself from falling.

“Jesus, could you have screamed any louder?” a voice drawled calmly.

I slowly righted myself and forced my gaze up to meet Finn’s eyes. They were twinkling with mirth, undoubtedly amused by my fright.

I was going to kill him.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, FINN,” I yelled, striding forward and shoving his chest with all the strength in my arms. He didn’t even shift off balance, which only served to incite my anger further. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?” I demanded. He opened his mouth to reply, but I cut him off. “This is the LADIES room, Finn. Are you a lady?”

He was struggling to hold in his laughter now, shaking his head in answer to my question as a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. The dimple in his right cheek was out in full force and, despite how adorable it was, at the moment I had an urge to smack it right off his face.

“Then what the hell are you doing in here?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes at him and planting my hands on my hips. Finn took several steps toward me, following as I backed away from him into the bank of sinks. When I had nowhere else to go, he propped his arms on the wall around either side of my body, effectively caging me in. The laughter was fading from his eyes, his irises darkening as they filled with unnamed emotions.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he stated, holding my gaze. “I want to know why.”

It was a statement, not a question – one that demanded an answer. I didn't have one to offer him, though, so he was shit-out-of-luck if he thought he could intimidate me into explaining.

“I’m not avoiding you, Finn. I just don’t like you,” I glared up at him, raising my chin haughtily and refusing to back down despite his proximity. “And gee, cornering a girl in an abandoned bathroom is definitely the way to get her to want to be around you.” I practically sneered at him. He just smiled.

“Brooklyn, we both know you’re lying,” he whispered, his mouth grazing my earlobe. “And neither of us is leaving until you tell me why you’ve been pretending I don’t exist.”

“I’m not lying!” I might have been lying. “And could your ego be any bigger? Seriously, how do you even live with yourself?” I was slurring a little bit. Damn. Of all the possible times that this conversation could’ve occurred, of course it had to happen while I was wasted.

“You’re deflecting,” he said, “Just tell me, ‘cause I’m missing my break for this.”

“Ah, yes, precious time with your groupies is going to waste. All the more reason to leave me alone!”

“You know, I thought you were cute when you were mad, but you’re even cuter when you’re jealous,” he grinned cockily.

“And you are delusional.” I decided I’d had enough, pushing at his chest to get him to back away from me. I was absently noting how firm his chest muscles were beneath my fingers, my drunken mind conjuring up images of him shirtless, when he suddenly snatched my hands firmly in his grasp. His large fingers fully encompassed mine, his grip steely as his dragged me up tighter against his chest. We were fully plastered together, every part of our bodies perfectly aligned. In my heels, the top of my head was nearly level with his mouth, and my emerald irises were mere inches from his blue ones.

We stared at each other for several long seconds, my eyes moving unchecked between his dark gaze and the full lips nearly touching my forehead. I felt my breaths quicken and recognized the telltale desire pooling in my stomach.

Shit. The tequila was wreaking havoc on my self-control.

Finn’s eyes widened infinitesimally as he looked down at me, seemingly as affected by our closeness as I was. He angled his head toward mine, moving further into my space as he brought our lips dangerously close together.

“We shouldn’t do this,” I whispered against his mouth, knowing it was far too late to stop whatever was about to happen between us. Worse, knowing that I didn't want to stop it.

“Shh,” he breathed, his lips grazing mine as his hands moved up to tangle in the loose curls at the base of my neck. Just as our lips finally brushed with a gentleness I hadn’t thought Finn capable of, the bathroom door banged open, slamming against the wall with a smack loud enough to shatter the almost-moment we’d just experienced. We quickly sprang apart as three girls stumbled in through the doorway.

“Ohmigod! You’re Finn! Ohmigod!” The blondest of the three began bouncing up and down in excitement, her surgically-inflated cleavage nearly spilling out of her top as she completely dismissed my presence and honed in on the lead singer of her fantasies.

I avoided looking in his direction, cursing myself for what I’d almost allowed to happen. I assured myself it was only because I’d been drunk, only because my guard had been down after the shittiest day of my year. It wouldn’t happen again. Ever.

I squeezed around the trio of fans, nearly running in my haste to get out of the bathroom and away from his presence.

“This isn’t over, Brooklyn,” I heard him call after me as I fled.

***

“Remind me never to listen to you again,” I said, sliding back into my seat across from Lexi. “And to kick your ass.”

“What did I do this time?” Lexi grinned impishly, sliding my Long Island iced tea across the table. I took a fortifying gulp, hoping it might erase what had just happened in the bathroom.

“Remember how you assured me that Finn had absolutely no interest in me whatsoever?”

“Maybe?” Lexi’s eyes widened in anticipation; whatever she’d been expecting me to say, it wasn’t this.

“Well, he just cornered me in the bathroom. And tried to stick his tongue down my throat.”

“And you didn’t let him?”

“Lexi! Jesus. I don’t even like him.”

“Who cares? He’s gorgeous.” She said, looking at me like I was crazy. “And since when do you care about liking the boys you sleep with? We both know you don’t do relationships. Neither does Finn. The way I see it, this could be absolutely perfect.”

“It’ll get complicated. It always gets complicated.”

“Sweetie,” Lexi sighed. “Finn doesn’t commit. He’s a serial dater – if you can even call what he does dating. You’re clearly into each other and you’re both attractive, so just screw and get it over with. Then you can walk away, like you always do. A clean break.”

Lexi made it sound so simple, so easy. At that moment, I wanted to cave in. After the scene that had just played out between me and Finn in the bathroom, I doubted I would be able to resist again. The truth was, I wanted him. I’d wanted him since the first time I’d laid eyes on him.

Sex with no strings had never been a problem for me before. I’d never let emotions get in the way with any of my relationships; as soon as I felt that things were getting too intense, I’d broken them off. Maybe it wouldn’t be any different with Finn – I’d just have to be more careful than usual. He had a way of getting under my skin like no one else. He saw things in me no one else seemed to.

I’d have to hold him at arms length. I might consider sleeping with him, but I’d certainly never consider trusting him.

“I don’t think so, Lex,” I said, my voice unconvincing even to my own ears.

“Mhmm,” Lexi hummed placatingly, not believing a word of my protests.

I chose to ignore her, turning back to the stage to watch the band members prepare for their second set. Finn looked completely normal, laughing at something Tyler was saying and clearly unaffected by our interaction in the bathroom. It was silly to have thought I’d ever mean anything to a boy like that. I was just another piece of ass to him -- only, unlike his groupies, I offered a challenge because I didn’t spread my legs on command. He was interested in the chase, nothing more. For some reason that realization struck me like a heavy blow to the chest.

Ignoring the pang, I took another sip of my drink and refocused on Lexi, who was, as usual, blabbering about Tyler’s many virtues.

“And the drummer really is the one who holds the whole group together, you know? I mean, without Ty, they’d be nowhere. So—”

Lexi broke off mid-sentence, her eyes wide as she caught sight of something behind me. Before I could turn around, I was lifted from my stool and dragged back against an unfamiliar chest. Two beefy arms encircled my waist, holding me so tightly that even attempting to fight was useless.

Not that it stopped me from trying like hell to escape. My stilettos propelled wildly in the air, trying to make contact with a shin or, ideally, the body part several feet higher and infinitely more precious to my attacker.

“Calm down, baby, I’m just messing with you. I know how skittish you can be.” Abruptly, the hands released their hold on me and I fell several feet to the ground, losing my balance and nearly landing face-first on the sticky club floor. One massive hand shot out and caught my arm just in time, halting my descent and hauling me face to face with my assaulter – Gordon O’Brien.

Gordon had been a mistake, one induced by too many tequila shots at a frat party last spring. He was a football player here, supposedly a good one, but I couldn't be sure considering I’d never actually attended a game. One of those guys you could tell had been raised with money and bred to believe in his own superiority, he was good looking in a clean-cut, Ralph Lauren model kind of way. The attraction stopped there.

Gordon was the quintessential jock from every high school movie I’d ever watched and rolled my eyes at – always the first to make fun of the nonconformists who refused to bow down to his clique of followers. If there’d been lockers at college, he would’ve been the one stuffing freshman into them.

He also seemed to have a problem with rejection. After our drunken hookup, I’d fled the scene as quickly as possible. Though he’d tried to contact me numerous times since, I’d always turned down his offers for a repeat performance. Four impossibly long minutes of a sweaty behemoth grunting on top of me had been enough Gordon to last a lifetime, thank you very much. There wasn’t enough tequila in the world to convince me otherwise.

“Aren’t you gonna give me a proper hello?” He said, lips pursed in a seductive expression I’m sure he’d practiced in the mirror.

“Hello, Gordon. Goodbye, Gordon,” I said, spinning around to face a wide-eyed Lexi and my table. I heard the band launch into their first song, a Bon Iver cover I loved.

“Not so fast, Brooklyn.” His hands wrapped around my upper arms tighter this time, with enough force that I knew I’d likely have twin bruises tomorrow. He gradually increased the pressure as he pulled me back against his chest once more, causing my eyes to water in pain. Lexi, recognizing that this situation was more than I could handle, hopped off her stool and made a beeline for the door, no doubt in search of Billy the bouncer.

“Let go of me, asshole,” I demanded through clenched teeth. My arms were aching and my breaths were getting shallow. I didn’t like to be casually touched by anyone unless I was in control of the situation, and this was far more than I could handle.

“Brooklyn,” he whispered, his mouth in my ear and his rapid breathing hot against my neck. He was excited by this, by hurting me; he was sicker than I’d originally given him credit for. “Why can’t you be nice to me, baby? You were so nice last spring. Don’t you remember?” He shifted suddenly, and I could feel his erection pressing against my lower back.

I looked desperately for Lexi, but didn’t see her anywhere among the crowd. Everyone else in my vicinity seemed conveniently occupied – either too intoxicated, scared, or self-absorbed to get involved. Finn’s voice filled the air around me, singing lyrics about running home and former lovers. I tried to focus on it but all the sounds from the club were quickly dimming. Everything seemed somehow distant now, blurred around the edges. Gordon continued to whisper to me, but it was no longer his voice I heard in my ear. It was another voice, a voice I’d tried to forget for fourteen years.

I’ll fuckin’ kill her. Don’t you fuckin’ come any closer or she’s dead.

A gun pressed against my temple. A grip so tight I couldn't breathe. Blood, so much blood. Yelling police officers. Wailing sirens.

Put down your fuckin’ guns or she’s dead.

I couldn't get a breath into my lungs. Gordon was still talking, but I was long past hearing. My eyes squeezed shut as I tried to make it all go away. Distantly, I thought I heard the abrupt sound of the music cutting off, but I wasn’t sure of anything at that point. My head was spinning from a lack of oxygen.

Then, as suddenly as it had taken hold, Gordon’s grip was simply gone. I crumpled to the floor and didn’t even attempt to stand up this time, knowing I was out of commission. Hearing the unmistakable sound of fists meeting flesh, I lifted my head enough to see Finn straddling Gordon, repeatedly punching his face.

“Don’t you ever fucking lay your hands on her again.” Finn snarled. Gone was his normally playful grin; he was feral, his brutality fully unleashed on the writhing linebacker beneath him. Though Gordon was bigger by at least thirty pounds, Finn was clearly faster and more skilled.

“You hear me, fucker? If you so much as think about talking to her again, I swear it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

Gordon moaned in response, unable to form words.

Abruptly, Finn stopped raining down punches and the rage cleared from his face. He leapt off Gordon, who didn’t look like he’d be getting to his feet anytime soon, and was at my side faster than I’d have thought possible.

His arms hooked beneath my knees and around my shoulders as he scooped me into his arms, not unlike he’d done the first day we met. I immediately turned my head into his shoulder, blocking out the rest of the world as he carried me out of the club.

When we reached a truck in the parking lot, he opened the door and climbed up onto the front bench seat without ever loosening his hold on me. When the door shut behind us, he continued to cradle me in his arms, his mouth pressed into my hair. It was silent except for his occasionally murmurs.

“You’re okay, Bee. You’re okay. I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

I was still hyperventilating. With conscious effort I tried to slow my breathing.

“That’s good, Bee. You’re alright now.”

My hands were fisted in his t-shirt in a death-grip and I was shaking with repressed sobs. I wouldn’t cry. If I cried now I might never stop.

Time passed – it could have been minutes or hours. Finn didn’t seem like he was in any hurry to leave; he didn’t push me, or tell me to stop crying, as any other boy would have. He simply held me and let me breathe.

Eventually, I stopped shivering and felt the panic dissipating from my system. My voice was nearly unrecognizable when I tried to speak, a cracking, shaky whisper that surely belonged to someone else.

“What…” I cleared my throat before trying again. “What happened?”

“You had a panic attack,” Finn said simply, as if that explained everything.

“But…you were on stage?” My voice was unsure, seeking clarification.

“I saw that asshole gripping your arms and then I saw your face. I had to get him off you.”

“So you just leapt off the stage mid-song?” I said incredulously, my voice sounding more like my normal self. “Jeeze, do you have a flair for the dramatic or what?”

“You must be feeling better if you’re back to insulting me already,” Finn said. I could hear the smile in his voice and felt the tension drain from his arms.

“Thank you,” I whispered, not sure what else to say.

“Don’t thank me. Believe me, it was a pleasure to hit him. That guy is a total tool.”

Silence descended once more. I could’ve – should’ve – moved out of his embrace, but I didn’t. I felt safe here, cocooned in this warm pair of arms, somehow far removed from everything that had just happened. It was a good feeling – one I couldn't remember experiencing since I was a little girl.

I didn’t want to break the silence between us, but I felt I owed him an explanation of sorts. With anyone else, I would have brushed off what had happened, but Finn would see through any lie I spun. I was better off saving my breath and telling him at least a semblance of the truth.

I forced myself to move out of his embrace and sat on the seat beside him. Making sure no parts of our bodies were touching, I turned to face him. If his eyes had held any pity, I might have simply climbed out of the truck and walked away, but they were carefully guarded against any visible emotions. I took a deep breath and began.

“I’m sorry if you’re looking for some sort of explanation. I can’t really give one to you.” I swallowed nervously. “He grabbed me too tightly, and sometimes that triggers my panic attacks. I don’t like strangers touching me. I can’t handle being confined in a grip like that. That’s it.” I looked at him, waiting for some kind of reaction. “Thank you for helping me,” I added, almost as an afterthought.

He was quiet for a long time.

“Okay,” he said.

“That’s it?” I asked. “No questions? No demands that I explain?”

“Brooklyn, you’re not the kind of person who reveals anything she isn’t ready to. So I’ll wait. As long as it takes, I’ll wait. Because when you’re ready, you’ll tell me.” He sounded so confident, as if it were inevitable that I’d one day lay my soul bare to him.

“You might have to wait a long time,” I said doubtfully. “You might be waiting forever.”

He shrugged, as if the prospect didn’t bother him. “I’ve already been waiting my whole life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, my eyes narrowing in suspicion.

He just smiled a sad sort of smile, ignoring my question as he turned to put the key in the ignition. The engine flared to life and we began rolling out of the parking lot.

“What about Lexi?”

“She’s with Ty. Don’t worry.”

“And your set?”

“There’ll be other shows,” he shrugged.

With anyone else I might have demanded to know where we were going, but all my fight was used up. I was exhausted, emotionally drained and ready for this hellish day to finally be over.

“My mother died fourteen years ago, today.” Was that my voice, saying that? Out loud? To Finn, of all people? I was losing it.

He looked over at me, surprised. Of course he was. After all, hadn’t I just told him that I didn’t do explanations? That he’d have to wait forever?

“Death sucks,” he said. “It never really gets easier. People say bullshit clichés like ‘time heals all wounds’ to comfort themselves. But anyone who’s experienced real grief knows that it never goes away – you just get better at lying to yourself, at covering up the signs, at faking normal.”

He spoke from experience; he’d lost someone too. It was comforting, in a twisted way, to know that there was someone who’d felt the loss I did and was still standing. I wasn’t alone in my ceaseless battle with grief.

I didn’t say anything else as he drove me home – I don’t think he expected me to. When we pulled up outside my house, I hesitated before reaching for the door handle.

“Whose truck is this?” I asked, realizing that since we weren’t on his motorcycle, we must be in someone else’s car.

“It’s mine, actually. I use it when the weather’s bad or when I have to move the band’s gear before gigs.”

“Oh,” I said, wondering how a college boy could afford not only a motorcycle but a relatively new truck as well. “Well, it’s nice.”

“Thanks. Hey Brooklyn?”

“What?”

“Just for the record, we’re officially friends now. Once you get into a fistfight for someone, there’s no going back.”

I smiled. “Figures, you’d want something in return. I suppose chivalry really is dead after all,” I said teasingly. “I’ve never had a male friend before.”

At my words, a strange expression flashed across his face, but it was gone too quickly for me to process. His grin was back, and I almost thought I’d imagined the dark look.

“Well, I don’t exactly do the female friendship thing myself, so it’ll be new for both of us,” he said.

I hopped out of the truck and turned around to say goodbye, but Finn was already jumping down from the driver’s seat. Coming around the truck, he grabbed my hand and towed me to the stairs leading up to my apartment.

“What are you doing?” I asked, rolling my eyes. “You don’t have to walk me to the door.”

“As your friend, it’s my duty to get you home safely. Its also my duty to point out that you are the most stubborn, pigheaded girl I know.”

“Thanks, friend.”

“Anytime.”

We reached the top of the stairs, and I unlocked the door. Turning to face Finn one last time, I did something that surprised even myself.

Standing on my tiptoes – a feat, I might add, in stilettos – I twined my arms around his neck and tucked my face into the hollow of his throat. His chin came to rest on the top of my head as his arms wrapped around my waist. Standing this way, we were like two puzzle pieces rejoined. A perfect fit.

A content sigh slipped from my lips as he held me. Friends hugged, right? This wasn’t crossing any boundaries. This feeling of utter security, of safety, was a perfectly normal reaction to a friend. But, a small voice in the back of my head nagged, even on the rare occasions that Lexi and I had hugged, I’d never felt this way. Crap.

“Thanks again,” I whispered, slowly lowering my feet and unwinding my arms from his neck. I turned quickly to the door, not wanting to look into his eyes – afraid of what I might see there. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Bee.” I heard him say quietly, as I closed the door between us. I watched him walk down the stairs, climb into his truck and drive away. My legs weakened and I slowly slid down to the floor, bracing my back against the door and curling into a ball. A glance at the illuminated microwave clock informed me that it was 12:03 AM.

The anniversary was finally over. What a day.

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 451