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Her head rests against my chest, curling into my side. “Because you didn’t force me.”
Pain digs its way through me again, my heart pounding rapidly. “Did he?”
She nods without words.
Anger pulses inside my chest, my jaw tight, an image of what I think happened, and probably nowhere close to the actual event plays out in my head. And what she asks next terrifies me even more. “We’re fucked up, aren’t we?”
I nod, holding her tightly against me, my breathing slowing. “Probably.”
Her hand rests on my chest next to her head, her fingertips dancing over my heart. “Was it the fireworks last night or something I did?”
My throat tightens and I blow out an unsteady breath. “It was nothing you did.” Shifting underneath her, I touch her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. I kiss her, once, and then draw back. “I’m sorry. I’m just… really fucking sorry about that.”
Tears flood her eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I understand. It happens and I can’t imagine what you saw, and what you’re going through now.”
Her tears are like acid being poured on me. “This is what I was afraid of.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have enough to worry about. I shouldn’t be one of them.”
She moves away from me to sit up. She breathes in, holds it, and then lets it out slowly. “Grayson, you’re my best friend. Three years doesn’t change that. I’d do anything to help you through this.” Her eyes soften. “And truthfully, it’s really fucking nice to know there’s someone just as messed up as me.”
Resting my hand on hers, I stare at her. “I just—”
“Wake the fuck up, bitches!” A loud knock hits the door, interrupting us.
Evie rolls her eyes. “I hate my brother.”
And then “Stop fucking and get out here!” comes from Frankie.
I roll my eyes, too. “Not as much as I hate my sister.” Groaning, I reach for Evie and wrap my arms around her. “Let’s pretend they’re not here.”
Giggling, she brings me on top of her. “Let’s make up for last night.”
My hand lowers to her ass. “Now that’s a day I can get down with.”
But we don’t get that far before they start threatening to pick the lock.
Two hourslater and after much-needed food, we’re sitting around the screened-in porch overlooking the lake. Frankie is talking about planning the wedding, Ethan looks wide-eyed in confusion, and Evie’s lost in her own head beside me.
Me, I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been because of what Josh has in his hand.
He sets the box of fireworks on the table. “What should we do with these?”
I stare at the box. “Throw them away.”
“What?” he gasps, holding up bottle rockets. “Why?”
“Fuck you, Josh!” Evie shouts, ripping the box from his hands. The table moves with the motion, water glasses spilling. “Can’t you see he just returned from war? Do you really think setting off fireworks constantly is good for him?” Taking the box, she dumps them out on the table. They spill off the table, crashing against the ground, onto our laps, in drinks and food. “You guys are fucking idiots.”
Every single person at that table stares at me. Heat licks my face and I have no idea how I’m supposed to react, let alone reply. Evie’s eyes snap to mine, her face flushed, mouth gaping.
“I’m sorry!” she cries, covering her mouth, and then rushes away from the table as if she can’t believe she just said that.
Frankie gasps. “Oh my God, Grayson. We didn’t even—”
“It’s fine,” I snap, pushing away from the table to chase after Evie.