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I’m too damaged for anyone else, physically and emotionally.
I push my face under the streaming water, too discouraged to even cry.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHARLIE
Mark’s waiting when I pad barefoot down the stairs much later. His damp hair curls at his nape, and he’s wearing a gray Army shirt and shorts. “You’re home early.”
“Things ended sooner than expected.” Literally.
“Your phone’s been blowing up. Lila called me when you didn’t pick up. She and Tucker are coming over.”
I sigh. “I really don’t want to see anyone tonight.”
“She said that’s what you would say and to tell you they’re coming anyway.”
There’s a distinct downside to living five minutes from them at times like this. Before we’re even done speaking, Tucker’s knocking, and I sigh loudly.
“Can we do this tomorrow?” I call through the door.
“You know I have a key,” he reminds me.
I unlock it, standing aside. “I’m changing my locks.” Tucker’s blue eyes look both furious and worried, and Lila’s share the same expression.
“I’m going to your liquor cabinet,” he announces. “Who else wants a drink?”
Startled, I look at Mark, who motions for me to follow as both Tucker and Lila stalk to the kitchen. Tucker retrieves rum and scotch. Lila takes fruit punch from the refrigerator and fills glasses with ice. We end up at the dining room table where Tucker pours scotch for himself and Mark and rum for Lila and me. Both Tucker and Lila are visibly seething, though I’m not sure why. I reach for the fruit punch.
“Anybody wanna tell me what’s up?” I ask.
“Tom called,” Lila says.
That’s all she says, even though I keep waiting for more. “And?” I finally probe.
“Blake went to see him.” I wait for her to elaborate. “He told Tom what happened tonight.”
I close my eyes. As if his private reaction wasn’t mortifying enough, Blake’s ensured all my friends know exactly what happened. It’s a twofer – two for the price of one, both private and public humiliation.
“What did Tom do?” Mark asks, and his words surprise me. Not what did Tom say, but what did he d
Shit. As protective as Tom is, I can guess. “Does Blake have two black eyes again?”
Tucker shakes his head. “As soon as he told Tom, he threw his hands up to protect his face. Tom dropped him with a punch to the solar plexus and then the jaw.”
“Pussy,” Mark mutters. When I glance at him, he clarifies, “Blake should have just taken the punch. He knew he had it coming.”
“No one should have anything coming to them!” I splutter. “You guys can’t go around punching people just because my feelings get hurt.”
“Watch me,” both men say in unison, and I sigh.
“We’re going to have a serious discussion later about the use of the word ‘pussy’ as an insult,” Lila announces, glaring at each of them before turning to me. “Are you okay?”
I shrug. “I’ve been down this road before, telling guys and watching them disengage.” I open the fruit punch and add it to my rum.
“But unlike with the Whiners, you didn’t gloss over what happened. You told him details.” She hesitates. “And you showed him.”
I pause, my glass halfway to my lips. “Yeah. I did."
