Page 158 of Camp Bliss
My critical thinking skills are at an all-time low, and coffee and food are my only hopes at the moment.
I grab two spoons out of the utensil drawer, slide one his way, and shove one of the mason jars across the counter to him. With mine in hand, I circle the island to put maximum distance between us, and busy myself with taking down a mug and making a cup of coffee.
The first sip is hot and strong, and I don't allow myself to moan in relief. Josh is watching me, and I one hundred percent will never be giving him the satisfaction.
“Thank you for letting me stay,” he croaks.
I stare into my cup of coffee and wonder if I should have listened to Zach. I don’t say anything becauseyou’re welcomewould be a lie.
“Greta—I need to tell you something.”
Grudgingly, I lift my gaze to his face. He looks god-awful. His fair skin was always such a striking contrast to his dark hair, but now the green tinge just makes him look ghoulish.
“I still love y—”
“Don’t you dare.” My mug smacks the countertop so hard, it’s a wonder it doesn’t shatter. But what’s even more miraculous is that I didn’t throw it at him. “You do not get to say that to me ever again.” My voice is cold, but I don’t think I’ve ever been more offended in my life. Is he fucking serious?
His brows tent, making him look like a remorseful child. “Greta, I know I messed everything up, but I want to promise you th—”
“Nope.” I fold my arms across my chest, having none of it. “You don’t get to promise me anything either, Josh.”
“But when I get better—”
“You won’t have any part in my life,” I level.
Josh blinks at me.
Can he see that I’m shaking with rage?
He’s shaking too, but I’m guessing that’s from the hangover.
Josh runs his fingers through the dark hair that’s so long it’s falling over his eyes. “I’m going to get better, Greta.”
I grit my teeth to keep myself from saying hurtful words that would only bring me shame later. I lift my chin. “I sure hope so.”
He blinks, looking surprised, and, dammit, hopeful. “I know I fucked up. I’m gonna fix it.”
My mouth falls open. Clearly, he’s delusional. “Josh—” I cut myself off and shake my head. “We need to focus on getting you help. That’s all we’re going to talk about. Got it?”
His gaze drops and he nods. Josh grips his forehead and rubs the skin there with agitation. “Okay… Um… Before we do that…” His gaze flits to the fridge. “Can… Can I grab a beer?”
I might need to surgically reattach my jaw because it just hit the floor. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
His gaze meets mine for just an instant before he lowers his head and rubs his face with both hands. “No, Greta. I’m not. I need—” The words come out behind his shaking hands. “I don’t usually let myself go this long… without a drink.”
I gape at him. “Josh. It’s been—” I look down at my watch. “What? Twelve hours?”
He doesn’t look at me. He just nods. “Twelve is about my limit.”
I bite my lip.
I clutch my stomach.
I shift my weight from foot to foot.
But the dawning understanding still nearly knocks me down.
“You’re alcohol dependent.”
