Her startled gasp is like a gut punch.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m sorry.” My voice is rough and raspy.If I could just get out of this car…“I…appreciate the offer, but I…don’t think I’d be good company.”
We pass the little supermarket and the gas station, then the strip mall with the liquor store and laundromat.
Finally, we reach the turn into the ranch, and as we pass beneath the arch, I can’t help the sigh of relief that works up my chest. Home. Though it’ll feel like an empty shell without her.
She continues down the same dirt road I walked this morning before dawn, my steps brisk with purpose. How is it possible this moment exists in the same fucking day?
When Linnea pulls in next to my Dodge, I can’t shake the images playing through my mind.Just one drink. A beer or a swig from a forgotten bottle of Bailey’s or rum.
I draw a full breath until it stings, so I can gather every shred of bravery I have left, then let it out, puffing my cheeks. “Would you be willing to take me somewhere?”
Her brows knit together. “Of course.”
“I need to find a group.”
Understanding flickers in her eyes. “Like a meeting?”
I wipe the fresh tears leaking from my eyes again. “Yeah.”
She reaches for my hand. The sight of my rough rose clasped in her delicate fingers and the warmth from her touch are like twin rays of hope shining in the dark.
Her kind gaze finds mine. “Can I go with you?”
Chapter Thirty
The chairwoman,who looks like a cross between a forest fairy and a librarian with her wireless spectacles and rosy cheeks, asks us to stand and clasp hands to close the meeting. I’ve only let go of CJ’s hand once, when he stood to introduce himself.
Hi, I’m CJ, and I’m an alcoholic.
Hi, CJ!
I take the hand of the person next to me, a wiry man in his sixties with a silver ponytail and dry, chapped skin, and bow my head as the chairwoman recites a prayer by heart. Most of the members join in, filling the spare and slightly over-warm basement with a chorus of voices. The sound is rich and steady and hopeful and their commitment fills me with awe.
After CJ thanks the chairwoman and she offers him a flyer with meeting dates and times, we walk hand in hand to my car, the soles of our shoes crackling on the gritty pavement.
“Better?” I ask him.
He’s quiet for a moment, our hands swinging lazily between us. “Probably the least sexiest date you’ve ever been on, yeah?” His tone might be carefree but I can read the insecurity beneath it.
I cock my head at him. “How many other girls have you brought to a meeting?”
He huffs a laugh. “Zero.”
I squeeze his hand. “I’m honored you trusted me enough to share it.”
“Do you mean that?” His words roll out with such tender vulnerability that my eyes prick with emotion.
“Somebody I really respect once told me that it’s okay to not be okay.” We’re almost to my car so I slip my keys from my pocket and click the locks open.
He pulls me to him, leaning back against the side of my car. “Respect, huh?”
I hug his waist and nestle my hips against his. How is it that even though our bodies are different in so many ways, we fit like two halves of a whole? “It’s making it impossible to quit falling for you.”
“Hmm.” His eyes shine in the streetlight’s glow. “Bout time you caught up.”
He combs his fingers into my hair to cradle the back of my head, tilting my face to meet his kiss. I savor the lingering scent of cloves and cotton on his skin as our lips meet, his mustache adding that hit of friction that scrambles my awareness in the best way.