Page 7 of Scar Tissue

“Then what do you want?” I ask, the words slipping out without a thought.Give me something, Thea. Anything,the voice inside my head pleads.

Her eyes flick to mine, before she turns around and starts walking back down the hallway. “I want things to be different. I want everything to be different.” The words are almost too quiet forme to hear over her retreating steps. But they hit their intended target, the meaning beneath them meant for so much more than her present. I just stand there, watching as she walks away from me, and I don’t stop her or try to make her stay. As her door clicks shut behind her, I can’t help but wonder if I ever had a chance to make things right at all. But then I have to remember, even if she didn’t stay, she met me without hostility. She came out of that room. It’s progress, and I’m gonna take what I can get.

The next day,I wake up to a text message from Dylan letting me know that they’re planning on going out tonight and that I’mrequiredto come. But that is a recipe for disaster. I’m surprised Fletcher even agreed to it—likely only under the guise that he’s there to keep an eye on them, which is probably whyI’mgetting the invite, too. Fletcher and I are getting far too old for this shit, but that’s what he gets for setting his sights on Dylan. That fourteen-year age gap between the two of them makes the seven between Thea and I look a hell of a lot better. The text message sits there on my screen, blinking up at me. I can imagine Dylan’s grin when she sent it, knowing damn well that if I ignore it, she will show up here or make Fletcher walk to the house and force the issue.

He’s probably the only reason I’m even considering it. We haven’t talked much this week at all; I’ve been holing myself up and keeping myself busy to avoid…well, everything. I sigh and sit up, rubbing a hand down my face. As much as I’d like to skip it, I know I won’t. I type out my message and send it back. If it’s a chance to be around Thea, whether she wants me there or not, I’m willing to tolerate pretty much anything.

I’ll be there.

Maybe it’ll be fine, maybeit won’t. But one thing’s for sure…Somebody’s truth is going to come out tonight. I don’t know how I know, but it’s a feeling that has settled in my gut. The tension that’s been building all week with the secrets that Thea and I are harboring from each other, and Dylan and Fletcher? After a few drinks, one of them is bound to slip.

Chapter

Six

THEA

The sunlight filters through the blinds, spilling golden streaks across the hardwood floor. I’ve been up for hours at this point, sitting cross-legged on the far side of the couch, away from our bedrooms. Despite the fact that Nathan and I haven’t seen much of each other, due to the fact that he has been blissfully busy at work, or whatever it is he does, I still prefer the moments of quiet I can get in the morning by myself. There’s something about the stillness of dawn that feels safe, like a pause between yesterday’s regrets and today’s demands. The worn book in my lap is one I’ve been meaning to finish for weeks, but the words have done nothing but blur as my mind hasn’t ceased wandering. The coffee in my hand has gone cold, but at this point it feels more like an anchor than anything else. The hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the old pipes are the only sounds to accompany me and I cling to them like a lifeline.

I’m so exhausted, and not just from the lack of sleep. Keeping up this pretense of resentment against Nathan is hard when he’s so different, but equally familiar in many ways.He never tried to reach out. But he’s here now…He was also driving.

My mind wars back and forth withitself.

He reminds me too much ofhim.Of Miles. The way they used to laugh until they were red in the face, their voices echoing through the house like a song that would never end. But it did end, didn’t it? Far too soon. I run my fingers over the chipped rim of the mug. I know Nathan’s routine well enough by now to know that he will be up soon. If I’m lucky, I can finish my coffee, maybe even sneak out for a walk before we have to acknowledge each other’s existence for the day. Especially since it’s a weekend. It’s not that I hate him…it’s just easier to pretend that he’s not here and that I’m not staying in his house.

The sound of a door creaking open makes my heart sink. Speak of the devil. I hear his footsteps down the hallway before he comes into view, his hair tousled and eyes

half-closed as he pulls a T-shirt on over the toned muscle of his torso. God, no. Why am I even going there right now? He is not the same and neither am I. I quickly avert my eyes and the muffledthudof a cupboard slamming echoes through the quiet house, pulling my attention back to the kitchen. For the past five days, I’d memorized the rhythm of his movements—where he spent his mornings when he was home, the pattern of his footsteps as he paced back and forth, the sharp intake of his breath when he thought no one could hear. Not that I’d been listening. But it was hard not to. Again, something else I shouldn’t be paying attention to.

This wasn’t supposed to be so hard. Not when I was trying to take the easiest path to the realignment of my entire life. Last night, I nearly let myself slip—just one conversation, one moment of shared air. It would’ve been so easy to cross the line I’d carefully drawn between us; to pretend we could be something other than what we were. But he made sure that we could be anything but, a long time ago. The weight of the memories had stopped me. The ghost of Miles’ laughter, the way Nathan had loved him like family. The way I had loved Nathan, but in a different way, and one that was entirely too impossible at the time. In a way I couldn’t afford to think about now. Damn it. The sound of the fridge door opening jolts me fromthat particular train of thought. Maybe if I stayed perfectly still he wouldn’t notice me.

“Morning.” It was the same every day and I should’ve known better. He was just as in-tune with my routine as I was his. His voice was soft, careful—like he was testing the waters. When I don’t respond, he pushes further. “Are you really going to keep doing this?”

I stand up and try to walk back to my room, anything to avoid having this conversation with him, but he steps in front of me. Gritting my teeth, I look up at him. I can’t help but notice how much taller he is than me, almost by half a head at least. His strong jawline has several days’ worth of scruff growing that matches the color of his dirty blond hair. But it’s those fucking blue orbs of his that have the fight leaving me. Just like they always used to.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My voice is steady but I swallow over the lump that had formed in my throat.

“Bullshit.” The word hits like a slap, sharp enough to make me flinch. “You’ve been avoiding me since the moment you got here. You barely say two words when we’re in the same room and if you do, they’re laced with venom. Hell, you didn’t even eat dinner last night, and I know you were hungry.”

My jaw clenches and I force myself to hold his gaze. He wasn’t wrong. I’d paced my room for hours, stomach growling, debating whether or not to go down and join him. I’d almost convinced myself it wouldn’t mean anything, but I don’t want anything else he has to offer me. Staying here is enough. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“No, you don’t.” He walks over to the island in the kitchen, leaning back against it as he crosses his arms and his ankles over one another. “But if you’re going to keep acting like I’m some kind of ghost haunting this place, at least have the decency to tell me why. Five days and we’re just pretending we don’t know each other? You can’t even look at me without running away.”

His gaze is sharp as it holds mine and damn it if I didn’t stomp toward him pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You want to know why? Fine. You’re a reminder of everything I’ve been trying to forget.Every time I look at you, I see him. I hear him. And it’s like losing him all over again. And then you just go and show up one day out of the fucking blue and act like nothing’s changed? Fuck that andfuckyou, Nathan.”

His nostrils flare as his jaw clenches. “Everything’s changed. You think I don’t know that? But I’m not him.”

“No, but you’re close enough to make it hurt. You don’t understand?—”

“I don’t understand?” His laugh is bitter as he steps toward me until our chests are touching, heaving in synchrony. “You think it doesn’t hurt for me, too? He was my best friend. My brother in everything but blood. And now I’m stuck here, trying to keep it together while you act like I’m the enemy.”

“Because it’s easier!” The confession tears out of me before I can stop it and I can feel the tears burning in the corners of my eyes. “It’s easier to resent you than to admit I can’t handle this. On top of everything else, this is the one thing that has the power to send me over the edge.”

His shoulders sag, and for a moment, regret floods my senses. Of course I know he lost Miles, too…but he just…he just disappeared without any explanation. “You can hate me all you want. Just don’t pretend like you’re the only one who lost him.”

My throat tightens and I swallow hard, turning away before he can see the tears slip free. “I never asked to move in here.”

“You think I asked for this either?” he fires back.