Chapter Twenty-Two
Lainey
After a restless night’s sleep, I drive back to the Ball House under the guise that I lost my phone, hoping I’ll run into Thomas so I can check up on him. Despite his parting words, or maybe because of them, I can’t leave things the way we did. He’s hurting, he’s punishing himself because of that hurt, and I can’t knowingly let that happen.
When I pull up, the first thing I notice is Thomas’s truck. He still drives the same Ford he had when we were younger, and I’m hit with a feeling of nostalgia that I didn’t get last night. Probably because I was too busy focused on Thomas rather than the target facing the brunt of his anger. Now, while it’s hard to miss the damage, it still feels so familiar to me. And I never even sat in it.
As my gaze bounces around the truck, the sun sparkles against the broken glass scattered across the sidewalk, bringing an image of a devastated Thomas to mind while my heart races. The damage to the truck is nothing compared to the damage to his soul and the further damage he’s trying to inflict.
Picking up the pace, I’ve barely knocked on the door when Luke answers, looking like hell. “Small Fry,” he croaks out with a smile. “Good to see you, but do you have to be so loud?”
My knock was quieter than his words, but I let it go. “Good to see you too.” I’m surprised he’s up, but I’d much prefer he answered than one of his teammates. “Can I come in?”
“Of course. Always. Is everything okay?”
No. Nothing is okay. “Everything’s fine. I forgot my phone. How are you feeling?”
Luke puts on a comical smile as he leans against the wall, his head lolling toward the plaster. “I’m peachy. It’s nothing a good weight session won’t fix.” He cringes and while I’d love to feel sorry for him, it’s all self-inflicted. Thomas, on the other hand, has his reasons.
“It’s actually good that you’re here,” Luke says as we walk, his signature “I’m about to ask a huge favor” smile locked firmly in place. “Can you take my friend to the airport?”
I groan until I realize who he’s referring to. “You mean Thomas?” I ask, subtly searching the room.
“I do…” He looks at me suspiciously while I roll my eyes.
“I was here last night, remember? He’s the only one at your party that lives in another state.” Plus he can’t exactly drive his truck.
“Valid point. So can you do it?”
Yes. “Ugh. What do I get in return?”
“My everlasting love?” I stare at him deadpan. “Okay, and you can borrow my truck for a week.”
“Make it a month and you’ve got a deal.” His truck is so much nicer than my car, but we both know I won’t hold him to it. “It was never supposed to be a party, remember?”
Luke groans but agrees, shaking my hand. “Deal.”
Following him to the kitchen, I sink down onto a stool and rest my chin on my arms, waiting patiently as he tries to prepare food, grunting and groaning periodically. My eyes follow him around the room, but while I’m physically present, my mind is on other things. On Thomas. On what kind of state I’m going to find him in.
Twenty minutes later, I get my answer as Thomas surfaces, stumbling into the room, completely ignoring me as he grabs a beer from the fridge. I’m about to clear my throat and remind him that it’s nine a.m. when Luke jumps up on the counter beside him and holds out his fist for a bump.
“The hair of the dog. Always the best remedy for a hangover.”
“Actually, Luke,” Thomas slurs a little as he sways. “I think I’m still drunk.” He taps Luke’s fist before taking a long pull of his beer, and my stomach churns. What the hell happened? Did he keep drinking after I left?
“Well, you better keep that up then,” Luke says with a laugh, apparently not seeing any issues. “You have a flight to catch. My little sister’s going to take you.”
Thomas spins so fast, a drop of his beer splashes to the floor, his eyes widening, clearly having no idea I was in the room. He frowns for a moment before shaking his head and shooting me a wide but fake grin. “Sounds perfect. Thank you, Luke’s little sister. I’ll get my things.”
When he’s ready, Thomas silently follows me to my car, remaining one step behind as we pass by his truck. I glance his way to gauge his reaction, but he doesn’t acknowledge it, his gaze barely lifting from the ground.
We wordlessly settle in our seats, and before I’ve put the car in drive, Thomas turns on the music, his attention drifting to his side window. Point made. He doesn’t want to talk.
Other than the songs I’m barely listening to, it’s silent on our drive, and I hate having the time to think. I’m not a lover of small talk, far from it, but the weird energy surrounding us makes it feel like we’re strangers all of a sudden. Like I’m his Uber driver and he wants nothing to do with me. And that has my mind in a spin.
With his head back and his eyes closed, Thomas looks peaceful as he tries to fake sleep, giving me the strong urge to call him out on it, to tell him I can see through his ruse. But I don’t. Instead, I tap my fingers along the steering wheel and try to focus on the drivers of other cars, giving them a purpose.
The woman in the silver Volvo is on her way to the dog groomers. Her pooch never misses an appointment.
The man in the black Porsche is off to a business deal, ready to make his next million.
“Counting Stars” by OneRepublic comes on the radio, and Thomas starts singing along, instantly pulling me from my thoughts. He’s getting so many words wrong that I almost laugh at how adorable it is, until I remember we’re in a strange place right now.
He continues in his own world until the beat picks up, and he abruptly silences the volume before turning his head to face the window again.
“What was that about?” I snap, unable to take his moodiness any longer.
“I don’t like the song.” He shrugs. “No big deal.”
“You were singing.”
“So? Turn it back on if you want.” He waves a hand toward the radio, and I bite my tongue to stop myself from arguing. “I’m trying to sleep anyway.”
I consider turning the volume up, hoping to gain some kind of reaction out of him but ultimately decide against it. He’s been through enough. I gave him yesterday and I’ll give him today, but if I ever see him again and he’s an ass like this, he’ll know about it. I’m done with people treating me like shit. I left my former life to get away from the drama. At least I would have, if they hadn’t kicked me out first. No, I’m not thinking about that.
I let my mind drift to other things as the new quiet fills the air, so when Thomas speaks again, I startle.
“I didn’t sleep with her,” he blurts, making me jump.
What?“Who?”
“Any of them.”
It’s been years since I saw him, and I shouldn’t care what he does or doesn’t do, yet I’m relieved. Though I can’t say if it’s a relief for me or him. He was a mess last night; he shouldn’t haven’t slept with anyone in that state. In fact, I don’t think he physically could have. “Okay,” I whisper because I’m not really sure how he wants me to respond to that, then I smile.
Thomas nods. “Okay,” he repeats, barely glancing my way, and my brain kicks into protector mode.
“Speaking of okay… Thomas, I—”
“Thank you for yesterday, Lainey,” he cuts in. “For your help. For being there. I feel much better.”
He’s smiling so wide that I don’t even have to look his way to see it and it’s unnerving, not to mention fake.
“Don’t do that,” I grate. “You can pretend all you want to the rest of the world. But don’t pretend with me.” I can’t imagine what he’s going through right now, but we’ve never hidden our feelings from each other, only our feelings for each other. I was there last night; I witnessed his breakdown.
“I’m not pretending.” Thomas chuckles, his voice completely foreign. “I’m good. How can I not be? I’ve got my sister back.”
His response makes me mad, but since I know it’s a coping mechanism, I leave it alone. For now. My heart aches for him and all that he’s been through, but it’s going to take him more than twenty-four hours and his weight worth of alcohol to get over it.
“That makes me happy,” I say truthfully because if he has Summer back, then I’m here to celebrate, but I’m nervous about the events of last night. That didn’t look like someone that had everything worked out. “It’s good to see you smile.”
Thomas falls silent again, so I shift my attention back to the road, hating this new, uncomfortable tension between us. And it’s not until we pull into the airport that he speaks again.
“Can I get your number?” he asks casually, and I stupidly blurt out, “Why?”
Exchanging numbers with Thomas is like a dream come true for a sixteen-year-old me, but now I don’t know how I feel, except that it will be nice to check in on him every now and then.
Thomas chuckles but it lacks energy. “I don’t know. I just feel like I should have it. If you’re worried, I can call you something different on my phone. In case Luke’s ever looking.”
“Like what?”
“The forbidden one.”
I can’t stop the snort laugh that bursts out of me. “Not subtle at all.”
“What would you have picked?”
“I would have picked Luke’s little sister and then you could have said you got the number when I dropped you at the airport, just in case.” After all, it is what he and Luke call me.
“Yeah, well, mine’s more fun,” Thomas says with a shake of his head. “So…can I have it?”
The change in his mood is throwing me, making me more willing to say yes. “I guess… just in case.”
Thomas smiles as I come to a stop in front of his terminal, handing me his phone. I take a quiet breath and type in my number before passing it back. “Done.”
Giving someone my number shouldn’t be a big deal, and yet as I watch his fingers curl around the black case, an overwhelming feeling of uncertainty takes over.
Thomas stares at me for a moment, like he’s waiting for something more, but then shakes his head and says goodbye. “Thank you again, Lainey. For everything.”
There’s so much left unsaid between us, but since I can’t figure out exactly what that is, I smile instead. “You’re welcome,” I say as he steps out. “I hope you’re okay.”
My words don’t seem enough for what he’s been through, but there are no right words. All I know is that I care. More than I should. And while I wish it still felt like there was hope for us, that this was the start of something…that we’d have tomorrow…
The reality is, I don’t think we will, and I don’t think it’s ever going to be that way.