I fucking need him.
Oh god.
“HEY,” RAFE sighs when I open the door. He looks tired but happy to see me. I still can’t get over the way he’s actually happy to see me.
“What’s wrong?” he says, immediately wary as he looks at me closer. “Did something happen?”
He reaches a hand out to me and I stumble as I go to him.
“Sorry,” I say. “Sorry, sorry, but Brian saw you, and he asked who you are and I don’t—something’s wrong with me because I wanted—just, I don’t know—and I had to get out of there, and—”
“And get drunk,” Rafe says, holding me at arm’s length.
I squeeze my eyes shut. A child’s logic that if I can’t see him, then I can’t be seen. He sighs loudly and lets go of me, going to sit on the couch.
“I’m sorry,” I say, sitting on the other side of the couch. “I know you’re mad. But I didn’t mean to. I just… I was freaking out, and I couldn’t—look, don’t be mad, okay?”
He shakes his head tiredly.
“No, I know you are,” I try. “I mean, you seem mad. And I’m really sorry. But—”
“It’s not about you, Colin.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s about drinking. You don’t like it. I know. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, but—”
Rafe shakes his head again, not looking at me, and bites off a bitter laugh.
“No, I mean, it’s not actually always about you, Colin!”
“I—what?”
“Do you know why I was on my way here when you called?”
Oh. Shit. I didn’t even ask. I shake my head and he grabs my wrists, looking right at me with such intensity that I want to look away.
“You said you needed me. You said you needed me, Colin.” Heat rises in my face at how desperate I was with his arms around me and his breath on my neck. “And what did I say to you?”
I search my memory, but all I come up with is how safe he made me feel. Well, and how hard he made me come.
Rafe winces. “I said that I need you too.” He pushes me away and starts pacing the living room. His hands are on his hips, and I notice for the first time that his hair is coming out of its braid, like maybe he’d forgotten it was tied back and run his hands through it anyway.
“I—did something happen?” I ask.
“Do you know what that means to me?” he asks.
Shame washes over me when I remember the conversation we had before Pop’s funeral. Rafe said he was jealous of his sisters because they have him to go to. Because they know that he’ll always be there for them. Because that’s what he wants: someone who he knows will always be there for him. Fuck.
“I needed you tonight,” he says softly, and the hurt and disappointment in his voice make my stomach curdle.
“Tell me what happened.” I reach for him but he shrugs away from me.
“I don’t want to talk to you when you’re wasted,” he says.
“I’m not. I swear. Not anymore. I can listen, I promise.”
He narrows his eyes. “You don’t understand.” His hands are fists at his sides and his teeth are clenched. “When I’m around it… any of it…. I still want to use, okay?” He sounds disgusted with himself. “It’s always there, at the edges of my mind. As an option. As a thing I’m not choosing. It’s never just… gone. Even after all these goddamned years, I still remember what it felt like.” His voice goes dreamy. “What it feels like to get away. To escape. To breathe because it’s not all my responsibility. To make a move without thinking through every possible consequence. To take something because I want it. To shrug and have every fucking thing fall away.”
He shakes his head and shrugs for real, like he hopes it’ll have the same effect. When he meets my gaze, he looks ashamed.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry. You can count on me. You can.”
It sounds hollow even to me, and Rafe’s face makes my heart sink because I can see how much he wants it to be true and how much he doesn’t believe me.
“I’m not sure I can do this.” Rafe’s voice is the shocked whisper of someone confessing a secret he has only just now realized.
My heart starts to pound so hard it makes me light-headed.
Rafe puts his hand over his mouth.
“Oh god,” he murmurs. He sinks down to the floor, looking up at me, his hand still over his mouth. “Oh god, I’m not sure I can do this.”
“Rafe, no,” I say, kneeling in front of him.
He’s trembling, his eyes wide.