Page 89 of What Remains of Grace

The first shot burned in a way that felt almost good.

The second blurred the edges of the fight as it replayed in his head.

As the night wore on, the bar filled up, the music got louder, and the guys kept sliding fresh drinks his way. He wasn’t counting anymore: beer, shots, something blue that Travis insisted was “tradition.” It all blended together.

By the time he checked his phone again, it felt heavy and slippery in his hand, the screen too bright as he squinted at Jenna’s name.

He shouldn’t text her.

He texted her.

His thumbs fumbled over the letters, the words coming out crooked but honest.

COLE: m sorry abt 2day. shdnt said that.

COLE: not just a night 4 me

COLE: im in lv w you more than im think allowed to be

He stared at the garbled confession until the letters swam.

Travis came back from the bathroom, took one look at the phone, and gently slid it out of his hand.

“Yeah,” Travis said. “We’re done with that.”

* * *

Jenna lay in the dark, staring at the hazy pattern of streetlight filtering across her ceiling. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Cole’s face on the porch, hurt, angry, so confused by her words that it made her want to crawl out of her own skin.

She flipped her pillow. Checked the clock—1:58 a.m.

When her phone buzzed on the nightstand, she flinched like her nerves had been waiting for something to go wrong.

Cole. The preview showed almost nothing. Just a blur of letters. She swiped it open.

COLE: m sorry abt 2day. shdnt said that.

COLE: not just a night 4 me

COLE: im in lv w you more than im think allowed to be

Her heart lurched.

He was drunk. The typos, the timing, the way the words tumbled over each other without his usual careful restraint. She could practically hear the slur in them.

This was the last thing she needed.

It was also the only thing she’d wanted to know since she’d slammed the door.

For a long minute, she just stared at the messages, thumb hovering over the keyboard, mind blank and loud at the same time.

A ripple of tension ran through her. She remembered Cole mentioning The Bridge earlier. The guys. Karaoke. Travis was making a fool of himself on stage. Her brain snagged on a memory of a group text from a few weeks back, Travis’s number sitting there attached to a photo of the almost-finished ceiling.

She scrolled until she found it, pulse pounding.

Her fingers moved before she could talk herself out of it.

JENNA: Hey, are you with Cole?