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I’m not equipped to be what she needs, because my own needs are too much, too fast, too soon, too hard, too raw. The thirst to taste fear, lust, love, trust, and ecstasy is a beautifully mixed cocktail for me, and sure poison for her.

I stand and offer my hand to help her up. “I’ll take you home.”

What could have been a perfect day took a U-turn into a day ending with an absolutely dead-silent drive back to her apartment. Sweet smiles and handholding have gone out the window. When I pull my truck in front of her building, she stares down at the blanket in her lap, fingering the soft fabric.

“Thank you for the blanket,” she murmurs softly. “I love it.”

I try to speak, but all that comes out is a faint choking sound. Frustrated, I wave my hand at her, and she opens the door, now a master of its handle, and slams it behind her—probably not on purpose, but because it’s the only way it’ll close.

The slam still fits the moment, though.

Rejection and disappointment have caused my voice to retreat back to its cave, which is fine because I think the only person I ever want to talk to is walking out of my life right now, as I sit in my truck and watch her unlock her door. I should go after her and fix this, but I don’t know what I can say or do. Instead, I suck smoke out of a cigarette while I wait for her to turn and wave to me as she always does, but that doesn’t happen. She just disappears behind the door.

CHAPTER 19

Holly

I turn into a crying mess the minute I close the door behind me and lean back against it, fearful my knees are going to buckle beneath me. Feather jumps up off the couch and runs over to me.

“What happened? Are you okay?” She puts her hands on my shoulders and forces me to look at her. “Did someone hurt you?”

“He k-kissed me,” I sputter.

“What? Who?”

“Ty.”

She takes a deep breath and smooths my hair back away from my face. “Did that nutjob force himself on you? I’ll bash the other side of his face in with a bat if he hurt you.”

“No…” I gulp back tears and start to count in my head.One, two, three, four…

Feather pulls me up to my feet and over to our faded couch, where she thrusts a box of tissues into my lap and sits sideways facing me.

“Now,” she says. “Let’s calm down and find our Zen.” I stare at her and wipe my eyes. “Like we learned in therapy,” she continues. “Take a deep breath and count.”

“Iamcounting.”

“Good. Now tell me what happened.” She grabs the blanket I’m still holding. “Where did you get this? Is this rabbit fur?”

I tug it out of her hand. “No, it’s not rabbit. He gave it to me.”

Her brow furrows with confusion. “The dude gave you a blanket?”

“Yes… It’s a magic blanket.”

Her shoulders fall, and her head tilts at me. “Holly, please. No more Santa stories or Christmas trees or princes and magic blankets. You have to let go of this fairy-tale stuff. It doesn’t exist.”

“It does, Feather,” I insist between sobs. “It really does.Youjust don’t believe in it.”

“I don’t because I live in this cool place called reality.”

Anger eases into my tears. “If you’re going to be mean, I’m not going to talk to you.”

“All right, all right. We’ll let that go for now. Just tell me what happened and why you’re so upset.”

Taking a deep, shaky breath, I try to put my scrambled thoughts in order. Everything feels like an overamplified jumble in my head. Whatdidhappen? I look out the window, hoping to see Ty’s truck still in the parking lot, waiting for me. “I’m so confused. I’m not even sure why I’m upset, or what happened. I just don’t know how to be with people at all.”

“That’s not true. You can be with people just fine. You’re just a little overwhelmed.”