Page 36 of Up In Smoke
Her smile is patent but kind. “You couldn’t let me down,” she assures him. “Remember, though, it’s you that you’re doing this for. No one else. You’ve worked hard on your recovery. You’ve come so far, but?—”
“But it’s always going to be one day at a time,” he finishes for her, sounding proud.
It makes me proud.
God damn it. This is sounding like it’s really worked. Like it was worth us going ahead with our ridiculous scheme. Without thinking, I reach out and take his hand, squeezing it before raising it up to kiss his knuckles.
I’m not sure if Dr. Howahkan notices, but I certainly catch how Jesse’s eyes widen fractionally and he gasps a little. Perhaps that was crossing a line. As much as I want to sell our rouse, I’d never want to make him feel uncomfortable. However, he then gives me a shy smile, and his cheeks look rosy again as I release him, so I think it was okay.
“I’m going to be here for you,” I tell him sincerely. “For every one of those days. You’re not alone.”
The way he looks at me with such hope and disbelief makes my heart want to explode out of my chest. I wouldn’t blame him for doubting that’s really true. For wondering if I’m just hamming up my role as his husband. But I mean it. I’ve spent so long agonizing over whether this treatment was going to work, I haven’t really given much thought to what it would look like if it did. But now we’ve arrived in this moment, it seems perfectly natural and obvious to me.
I’m not sure what exactly Jesse is to me now. My friend’s brother? Some kind of adopted extended family? A friend in his own right? All I know is that he’s important. I’m not so much nervous as excited to drive him home and start taking care of him. That’s not my disproportionate sense of responsibility talking, either.
That’s just my desire to be close to him. Because right now, there’s no place on earth I’d rather be than by his side, helping him succeed like hell in his recovery.
CHAPTER 11
Jesse
I’ve spentthree months leading up to this moment and now it’s as if I’m having an out-of-body experience. My tongue doesn’t want to work properly, and I don’t know what to do with my hands. The car ride back to Redwood Bay isn’t that long, but it’s currently feeling like eternity the more time I go without being able to think of anything to say.
Part of me knew that Rico would never let me down. But another, very noisy part of my brain was convinced he wasn’t going to show today and that I’d be left out on my ass with no ride and nowhere to live.
The look he gave me when I finally forced myself out into the lobby…I’m still not sure what to make of it, to be honest. He just lit up, not to mention how he then hugged me and when he grabbed my hand and kissed it?
How am I supposed to react to that? Yeah, I guess he was playing up the doting husband role in front of the staff, but it didn’t feel forced or awkward in any way. My heart certainly thought his behavior was genuine.
As did other parts of my body.
I shift in the passenger seat and do my best not to think about that, but it’s hard. Pun intended. Because how is he even moreattractive than I remember? I was already obsessed with him, so it seems impossible that I would underestimate his hotness, but here we are. I snatch glimpses of his profile as we head down the highway, admiring his strong jaw and the way his large hands flex around the steering wheel.
I want those hands on me.
Devolving into a feral sex-crazed beast isn’t how I want to start my first day back in the real world, however. So I inhale then exhale slowly, rubbing my fingers against the denim of my jeans, focusing on the rough material to try and ground myself.
All the staff from the clinic warned me time and again how challenging the first few days are going to be, possibly even the first few weeks. I know this. It’s not my first rodeo, after all. But I’ve never been more determined to make sobriety stick, therefore I’ve been paying far more attention to all the advice they’ve given me.
Sticking to a routine in a controlled environment where I’m surrounded by support twenty-four seven was always going to be far easier than the chaos of regular life. But that’s the important difference for me this time around. I’m not going back to a crappy apartment by myself in a big, noisy city. I’m not going to be working in a bar with temptation all around. I’m not going to be butting heads with assholes every day who relish in telling me how worthless I am and maliciously want me to fail so I won’t ever be better than them.
I’m going to be with Rico. I’m going to be staying in cute little Redwood Bay. I’m going to have the chance to breathe and stay true to myself instead of automatically giving into the gremlins that have tormented me for so long.
The center also started me on some medication which I’ve never tried before, and it absolutely takes the edge off the cravings. Luckily, it’s covered by Rico’s insurance, so I won’t have to pay a crazy amount out of pocket. But it’s not a magicpill. I’ll still need to exert a lot of will power not to fall back into old destructive habits.
And I don’t even want to think about what will happen when Rico and I inevitably get divorced. But thankfully I won’t have to worry about that for a while.
At least I hope I won’t.
Another glance at my driver. The fact that he’s wearing the silly little bracelet I made for him makes my heart flip-flop. I don’t even think he’s doing it because he feels obligated, either. The way he reacted when he saw it is a memory I’m going to hold onto and cherish.
“So, um, how have you been?” I ask, unable to deal with the awkwardness any longer. Well, I’m feeling awkward. Rico seems okay, but maybe that’s just because he’s concentrating on the road.
“Uh, yeah, good, good,” he says, flicking his gaze my way briefly with a smile. “The holidays were kind of quiet, except for the time me and the One-Thirteen took a trip down to San Diego for an evening. One of the guys, Sawyer, he’s in this amateur queer performing arts company and they put on a Christmas show. We went to go watch him dance in heels and he even did a routine on a pole.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Really?” I ask. From what I know about firefighters, I would assume they’d all be kind of macho.
But Rico nods and grins. “We told him we were coming to heckle, but honestly he and everyone else were so good, we couldn’t have possibly teased him like that.”