Page 52 of Hate You Up Close

I pause, the smirk on my face fading away.

“But it’s also the only thing that quiets my brain,” I mutter.

My eyes lift to hers when I feel her soft fingers brush the back of my hand. She reaches across the empty space between the couches and squeezes my hand in hers. The intimate contact makes me want to melt right into the cushions.

“It’s okay to ask for help, Elliot,” she whispers, rubbing her thumb along my palm. “We all have shit we’re dealing with. Some people are just better at hiding it.”

I hold her gaze as her emerald eyes bounce between mine. I feel as if there’s a ball of peanut butter stuck in my throat and I’ve forgotten how to breathe.

This girl, who I’ve known for only a millisecond of my life,is holding my hand and telling me that’s okay that I’m fucked up. She’s the only person I haveeveradmitted my drinking problem to. And that scares the shit out of me.

I feel water stinging the backs of my eyes, but I refuse to let any tears fall. I’ve already embarrassed myself enough. I can’t seem to find the right words to say, so I don’t. I just stare back at her, baffled at why she hasn't kicked me out of her apartment yet.

“Elliot…” she mutters. “I’m sorry about the other night. I shouldn't have pried. I shouldn't have pushed you like that. I just…I wanted you to know that your past doesn't have to define your future.”

Talking about my addiction felt like a lot, but talking about the culprit of my addiction is off-limits. So I change the subject without a second to spare.

“You should take the day off,” I exhale, standing from the couch. “No need to use any of your PTO. We’ll just count it as a regular work day.”

“Elliot…” she whispers my name so sweetly that it almost kills me. I know what she wants, but she’s not getting it out of me. No matter how fucking pretty her face is.

“Roxanne, I amnottalking about that,” I clip, shaking my head.

“I’m not asking you to,” she retorts, standing from the couch. “But I hope you know that youcantalk about it. You don’t have to hold it in here forever.”

She reaches out a finger and softly pokes at my breastbone. The touch sends an electric shock straight to my heart.

“Okay,” I reply quietly, wanting this conversation to be over.

She nods and gives me a sad smile.

“Really, though,” I add. “You should take the day off. You barely got any sleeplast night.”

“I can’t,” she replies without hesitation. “I promised Evie I would go to lunch with her today.”

“Then you can still go to lunch with her. Just tell her you’re taking the day off work, that you needed a mental health day or some shit.”

“Or some shit?” she mocks. “Yeah, I’m not going to lie to Evie about my mental health, especially when that’s something I take very seriously. Plus, I want to work today. I have a million things I need to do, and it would cause me more stress to get behind.”

I can see it in her eyes that her mind is made up. She isn't going to budge.

“Fine,” I huff. “At least…Let me take you to breakfast.”

Her eyes widen.

“What?” she asks, looking completely shocked.

“It’s the least I can do after last night,” I mutter. “Go to breakfast with me.”

“Are you sure?” she asks through brows furrowed. “It’s already seven. We’re going to be late if we stop for breakfast.”

“Then we’ll be late,” I remark. “Plus, I remember you saying you had no groceries last night, so I’m taking you to get some food.”

She shrugs as a smirk curls her lips.

“I’m not about to argue with you over free breakfast,” she says smugly. “Just be prepared for me to order the most expensive item on the menu.”

I barely register her sarcastic comment because her arms are no longer crossed against her chest. Her perky breasts all but strain beneath her little white tank top, her prominent nipples poking through the thin fabric.