Sure they do. They worried enough to show up to my brother's funeral-an endless line of broad shoulders in black waiting to shake my hand and avoid my eyes. And after that? Nothing. "You could visit him, you know."
Chris flinches and averts his eyes. "It's just . . . hard."
"You should visit." I stare at him until he meets my gaze again.
He nods. "Yeah. You're right. Okay. We'll go this week."
Satisfied, I nod and turn to leave. "Excuse me."
"Go put that basket in the laundry room and put on your swimsuit. Join the party."
"I couldn't. Arrow wouldn't . . ." The rest of the words fizzle away as Arrow walks up behind Chris, his hands in his pockets, his eyes on me.
"Arrow wouldn't what?" he asks, making Chris turn.
"Nothing." I take advantage of the moment to push out of the bathroom and past both men.
Chris says something to Arrow, but I can't make it out. I keep walking.
I'm hanging clean towels in the master bathroom when I sense someone behind me.
"Come to the party," Arrow says, his voice low.
"I'm working." I keep my head down. I can't look at him. For the first time since I took this job, I feel shame for being the hired help. Which is bullshit. I work hard and pay my own way. Always have. Always will. That's nothing to be ashamed of.
"You're the nanny, not the maid."
I open the cabinet with more force than necessary, and the handle clacks against the wall. "What, are you in charge of my job description now?" From the baby monitor clipped to my hip, I hear Katie fuss. "I need to check on the baby. Go back to your friends, Arrow."
I don't turn until I hear him leave, and then I stop in the doorway and lean my head against the wall, breathing deeply. Even though I just gave Chris a hard time about never visiting Brogan, I've been relieved not to have to face the team. Having so many of them here is too much of a reminder of how things used to be. Before. And it's too easy to give in to the game of what-ifs. What if I hadn't asked Nic to come get me? What if I'd told Brogan the truth? What if I hadn't left with him that night? What if I hadn't let Arrow comfort me when I was hurting?
I hate that game. It's painful and pointless.
The worst part of having a party at my house is that I can't just leave when I'm done with it. I was done with this party about twenty minutes after everyone arrived. Not a party, I mentally correct. I'm not allowed to have parties. But the judge encouraged me to "keep company" with people he deems a good influence. Namely, the guys from the team. The ones I let down.
I don't even know how to be around people without being trashed anymore. House arrest comes with those fun little piss tests, though, so my using days are behind me. Drugs and booze never offered the oblivion I was looking for anyway. Some demons can't be escaped.
Keegan came back not long after I kicked him out, and I took his apology with a silent nod. "You can talk shit about any of us," Chris told him, "but Mia's off-limits." And I was grateful he said it so I didn't have to.
"Lemme stay," Trish says now in a drunken slur. She smells like whiskey and is dressed in a skimpy bikini top and a pair of jean shorts that show more ass than they cover. She's always tried a little too hard around Brogan, but it's like I'm her substitute now, and lately she uses any excuse she can to get close. Like tonight when she tagged along with Keegan, making him think it was a date until they arrived and she changed her tune.
"Not a good idea," I say, taking a half step back.
She snakes her hand into my shirt and curls her lips into a smile as her fingers skim across my abs. "You won't be sorry." She lifts onto her toes and presses her mouth to my neck, and I want so badly to feel something, anything, that I knot my hand in her hair and yank her head back so I can press my mouth to hers.
Moaning, she slides her tongue against mine and hitches one leg around my waist. She circles her hips in a way that promises just what would happen if I let her stay.
The kiss is sloppy and reminds me of New Year's Eve in a flash that brings on a wave of nausea I stomp down out of sheer determination.
"Woodison!" Chris barks.
I tear my mouth away from Trish's just in time to see Mia at the foot of the stairs, hurt all over her face. It's not there long. She lifts her chin and covers her face in a mask of disinterest. But I saw it, and I'm the world's biggest asshole.
I thought she'd gone to bed. Fuck.
Because it wasn't just any girl I kissed. It was Trish. Worst fucking choice possible. And it shouldn't matter, but it does. What Mia thinks of me and how I make her feel will always matter. No hangover could change that, no high.
Chris gives me a hard look. He doesn't know what happened between me and Mia-no one does, unless you count us and Brogan, I guess. But Chris is a good guy, astute on a level these other guys wouldn't get. He sees things. Always knows more than he has reason to.
"Need a ride back to campus, Trish?" Chris asks.
Her fingers slide under the waistband of my jeans. "Do I?" she asks. After seeing the look on Mia's face when I pulled away, the nausea is back, and I just want Trish to stop fucking touching me. Now and forever. "Or should I stay so we can be alone?"
"You need a ride," I say, forcing a straight face. "Sorry. Sex is prohibited by my probation, and I'm afraid you'd be too much of a temptation."
Mason chokes on his beer, and Chris bites back a smile.
Trish, however, buys it, and her hazy eyes go big. God, why did no one notice how much she was drinking? "That's inhumane."
"I'll have sex with you, Trish," Keegan calls.
She attempts a smile. "Nah. That's okay."
Keegan sighs heavily. "Women never want guys from the O-line. They all want the men with the glory positions."
"Whatever," Mason says. "I saw that girl doing the walk of shame from your door this morning."
"Oh. Right," Keegan says, nodding. "Good point. Damn, she was hot."
"Come on, you guys," Chris says. "Pile your drunk asses into my car. It's time to head out."
I follow them and help Trish into the back seat. She's really the only one who's had too much to drink, but I'm still glad they carpooled tonight.
"We're planning to go to Indy to visit Brogan next week," Chris says as I shut Trish's door. "Want to come?"
The sound of my best friend's name brings my walls down, and any humor I felt earlier flees. "I can't. House arrest, remember?" I lift my foot and tug on my jeans to show my ankle monitor.
Grimacing, Chris shakes his head. "Right. Sorry. We'll tell him you said hi."
Nausea crashes over me, threatening to break through my walls. I've gotta get away from this conversation, and Chris clearly feels the same. No doubt Mia was the one who guilted him into visiting Brogan. She primps and fusses before each visit up there as if she's getting ready for a date.
Mason climbs into the passenger seat, and I watch as Chris pulls out of the circle drive. When I head back in, I spot Mia through the French doors off the living room. She stacks the dirty dishes and throws away the beer bottles.
I should go to my room and get away from her, but I hate the idea of her cleaning up after me and the guys, so instead of what I should do, I head back out there. "You don't have to do that."
She hesitates for a beat before continuing to gather trash. "It's no problem."
"From what I can tell, this job is all you do. Do you go out? Spend time with your friends?"
She won't look at me. "I'm not a hermit, if that's what you're asking. I get out plenty." She heads to the other side of the pool, and I follow.
"Visiting him doesn't count as getting out." The words scrape my throat, and I didn't even say his name. I can't say his name. The man she visits isn't the Brogan I knew. He isn't my best friend. Not anymore.
Mia has gone still. It's too dark out here, but I wish I could see her face. I want to know if talking about him hurts her as much as it hurts me, and then I want to wrap her in my arms and do anything I can to ease that pain away. "What do you want from me, Arrow?"
I want the hope I feel when I look in your eyes. The feel of you in my arms. The forgiveness I don't deserve.
I want to go back to the day we met and kiss you-claim you before he can.
Everything.
I want everything.
"Nothing. Go to bed. I'll clean up the rest."
October, Fifteen Months Before the Accident
Something came up and I can't meet to study with you tonight. Call me and we'll reschedule.