Page 54 of The Love We Deny
“He was one idiot—”
“He’severybody.” He pushes off the wall, but only takes a few steps forward to turn around and face me. “It doesn’t matter where I go. Doesn’t matter what I do. That’s all they’re ever gonna see when they look at me. Shit. I might as well go back to the drugs. At least then I wouldn’t have to feel like this.”
“Don’t say that.” I keep my voice steady, even as his words have nausea creeping up my throat. “You know that’s not the answer. And it’s not all anyone sees.”
He scoffs, a challenge in his eyes. “Oh yeah? What do you see?”
“An asshole,” I say, no point in sugarcoating it. I know that’s not what he needs.
And after a long pause as he recalibrates, the corner of his mouth moves up slightly. “Right back at you, Doc.”
“But.” I follow him off the wall, taking three steps to stand in front of him. “An asshole who shows up early for work every day. Who doesn’t cut corners, even when I’d have no idea if he did. Who is better with my kids than I’ve ever been.”
He looks down, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.
“And who,” I continue, taking another step forward. “looks really good in a flannel shirt.” My eyes go down and back up briefly, and I’m aware that I probably shouldn’t be saying it, but I do anyway.
Will looks up, meeting my eyes, his lips parting as he actually smiles. “Wow,” he says. “You gotta throw a flirt in there.”
“I’m not flirting. You asked what I see, and I told you.”
“Mhm.” He looks toward the door, taking a step back so that he can rest against the railing. “You know what actually happened? When I was arrested?”
I shrug, crossing my arms in the cold air. “I know it was something to do with drugs. Your parents didn’t want to talk about it.”
“I was seeing this woman,” he says. “Older than me. Hell, older thanyou.But she had a place, money, always had whatever I needed.” He stops with a laugh aimed toward himself. “That should’ve been the first red flag, but I wasn’t thinking about red flags. I was thinking about where I was gonna sleep and where my next high was coming from. I’d been homeless. Shitty motels if I could afford it, but if I got my hands on a little bit of money, a bed wasn’t my priority.”
I don’t say anything. I knew these things in the back of my mind. I understand what his life was like. I remember the shape he was in the last few times I saw him. But to hear it put like that—
“She took me in right away.” He kicks at a rock in front of his shoe. “I was comfortable for the first time in years. She always had drugs around, and I thought that was great at the time.” Another laugh. “Real sharp guy, me.”
“Will—”
“I ain’t looking for sympathy,” he says, with a glare, cutting off whatever I was about to say. “She started having me do things. Drop this off, pick this up. Take this to this address.” He shrugs. “And I did it. Every time. Small price to pay, right? For the first time in years, I didn’t feel like shit all the time.”
A car pulls out of the driveway, the headlights flashing over us in the dark, illuminating his face.
“I was an idiot. I know that. I’m not gonna stand here and lie and say I didn’t know something was wrong. I knew. I just didn’t care.” He pauses. “And when the house got raided, I was there, and as much a part of it as she was and—”
He scrubs a hand down his face, a self-deprecating sound bubbling out of him that I don’t like before he meets my eyes again. “So, what do you say, Doc? You still like me now?”
I release a breath through my nose that I’ve been holding for who knows how long. “Unfortunately,” I say. “Yes. You have done many, many things that should have cured me of my feelings. And yet.”
His smirk falters, his face doing something strange before he covers it with a laugh. “You’re fucked in the head, you know that?”
“I’m aware.”
He takes a step forward, his eyes drifting to my lips as his hand reaches out to grab my sweater again, but this time, he doesn’t let go. He pulls the fabric until I’m close enough that if I tilt my head back, our lips will touch.
He releases a breath, closing the distance between us, sliding a hand around my back, pulling my body into him. My hands land on his neck as his tongue slips between my lips and—
I think about Frank, standing in the middle of the room, defending his son, and that feels more important than kissing him right now, even though I’ve been craving this for weeks.
“Your dad kicked him out,” I say, pulling back, breathing hard, keeping him at a distance until he squints at me in confusion, his lips already a swollen pink from our kiss.
“Travis. Frank told him to leave.”
Will’s hands leave my body, and I fight the urge to beg him to come back when he turns around to face the parking lot, wrapping his hands around the railing.
