Page 99 of Auctioned To Be Mine

“That’s it,” he said. “That’s the Callum I know. Fight back and show me you’re better than I am. Faster. Stronger. Although less funny.”

I pushed harder. The physical pain was nothing compared to what I’d been feeling. This, I could handle. I would tell her everything. I’d tell her I was sorry and I’d do anything to make it right. And I would tell her I loved her.

That was wild. I didn’t even think I knew what love was. But I knew that’s what I felt. I did love her. I loved Victoria, and I was going to fight for her.

“Let’s head back,” I said to Drew, finally finding the strength to talk. “I have things to do before tomorrow night.”

Drew grinned. “Welcome back, brother. Do you think we can Uber home?”

“Nope,” I said.

We turned around and headed back the way we’d come. With each step, I planned what I would say to Victoria. By the time we reached my house, I felt like I might actually die, but in a good way. My lungs were on fire, my legs were shaking, and I was drenched in sweat. I collapsed on the front steps, gasping for air.

“See? Much better than drinking yourself into a coma,” Drew said, not nearly as winded. In my defense, he hadn’t been living on scotch and sadness for the last few days.

“You’re an asshole,” I managed between breaths.

“The asshole who just saved your life. I expect a shout out at the wedding.” He held out his hand and pulled me to my feet. “Now, go shower. You smell like a urinal at the bar.”

I held my arms open and went in for a hug. “Bring it in, Drew.”

He laughed and shooed me off him. “Get away, you stinky fucker. Save the hugs for Victoria.”

Chuckling, I stumbled inside and headed straight for the bathroom. The hot water felt amazing against my sore muscles. I stood under the spray for what felt like forever, letting it wash away the grime of my self-destructive binge. When I finally stepped out, I felt human again. Not great but human.

I found Drew in the kitchen, blending something in my Vitamix. The green concoction looked disgusting.

“Drink this,” he said, pushing a glass toward me. “It’ll help with the hangover.”

“What’s in it?” I asked suspiciously.

“Kale, spinach, ginger, lemon, banana, and a few other things that are good for you.” He grinned. “It’s Hollis’s secret recipe. Don’t tell him I stole it. Just drink it.”

I took a sip and grimaced. “This tastes like lawn clippings.”

“He’s still tinkering with the taste. But it’ll make you feel better.” He took out his phone. “I’m ordering you some real food. Something with actual protein.”

I sat at the kitchen island, sipping the green sludge. As gross as it was, I was starting to feel more alert. The fog in my brain was lifting. If Hollis could make it taste edible, he might actually be onto something.

Drew scrolled through a delivery app. “When’s the last time you actually ate something that wasn’t liquid?”

“I had pizza,” I said.

He ordered me a grilled chicken salad with extra avocado and salmon on the side. Health food, but I didn’t mind. It wasn’t too different from what I normally ate.

“Thanks for this,” I said after he’d placed the order. “I know I’ve been a pain in the ass.”

Drew looked up from his phone. “Yeah, you have. But you’re allowed to have feelings. It’s just my job to pull you out of your funk before you fuck this whole thing up.”

“I appreciate it,” I said.

“In the meantime, you need to figure out what you’re going to say to Victoria tomorrow night. Because you can’t just show up and expect things to magically fix themselves.”

I nodded. He was right. I needed a plan. I needed to show her that I understood what I’d done wrong and that I was willing to change.

“I think I know what I need to say,” I told him. “I just hope it’s enough.”

“It better be, because you’ll be insufferable if you break up.”