Chapter 27
I stare at the tattoo on my wrist. A movie flashing in my mind of our last summer together.
The first day we met. The sleepovers. Parties.
Boys. Mall trips. Random nights in a Taco Bell parking lot talking about everything and nothing.
The memories are hard. They hit me in the chest like a ton of bricks when I let myself think of her for too long, sucking out all the air in my lungs.
“Brianna is—was—my best friend.” I don’t like referring to her in the past tense. I know it’s technically correct, but it’s like my brain can’t handle the fact that she’s a memory—no matter how long it’s been.
My eyes are burning as I’m praying for the strength to not completely lose my shit in Liam’s apartment.
“Was?” His forehead creases and he puts the puzzle piece down he was holding.
All his attention is focused on me and the next sentence that comes out of my mouth. My neck heats as I stare at Liam, and I want to cry. I want to let myself just have a moment. A moment to unleash all the sadness I still feel but keep under a mask of a strong cat eye and bold lip.
“She…” I pause briefly, feeling my fingers pick at my nail polish. “She died when we were nineteen.”
He looks like he’s just seen a ghost. Liam’s lips part, his eyes showing the most sincere concern as they soften, and without hesitation he’s on his knees scooting around the coffee table to sit closer to me.
My fingers don’t stop moving in my lap as I sit there, hearing only the faint sound of an Ed Sheeran song and my own heartbeat in my ears.
One glance down at my shaking hands and Liam’s warmth steadies me.
He wraps his hand over mine, gently squeezing as his thumb rubs the outside of my hand.
His eyes plead with me to open up. It’s like he can see I want to be vulnerable, but I’m holding back.
Though I’ve never felt safer to let myself fall apart.
“Sorry,” I say on a shaky breath as I sniffle. “I wasn’t expecting to talk about her.”
“You don’t have to,” he assures me, hand still placed over mine.
“I know.”
“But also, you can if you need to. This is a safe space—it’s just you and me.”
I lift my heavy eyes to look up at him. He makes it so easy to be soft and feel feminine. To lay everything at his feet and be sure he’ll still be there when it’s all said and done.
“It’s been almost twenty years and I still remember it like it was yesterday. The phone call. The scream. The sobs that felt uncontrollable. I hate that the most frequent thing I remember is the day she died, when there were so many amazing moments we shared for years before it happened.”
“Tell me a fun memory.” Liam’s hand is still cradling mine. I should pull away. I shouldn’t let myself find comfort in him. But I can’t help it.
I lightly laugh as I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.
“Okay, our senior year of high school we thought we were slick. We had block periods, even and odd days, I’m not sure if you had something like that.
” He nods, and I continue, “Well we would go to first period, skip third, but then come back for fifth. We did that for almost two weeks before our fifth period teacher called us out.” I shake my head, laughing internally at the memory.
“He said, do you really think we’re that stupid?
We know you’ve been skipping third period for almost two weeks. ”
“I can’t believe you skipped class,” Liam says, his mouth curving into a lazy grin as he makes a mock gasping sound.
“It wasn’t my idea, but Bri had this whole elaborate story she told him about how we had to skip to help her parents at the little shop they owned in town. Total bullshit,” I say.
“Did he buy it?”
I shake my head as I smile. “Hell no. He knew we were just skipping our electives. The year was almost over, we were already checked out mentally and thinking of college.”
“Damn. You rebel.” He squeezes my hand and then slowly pulls his away, and I find myself longing for it back.
“He didn’t rat us out to the principal, though, so we always deemed him our favorite teacher. He really was cool as hell. Nice too. He came to her funeral.”
“That’s a story I would’ve thought to be your lie for two truths and a lie.” Liam pulls the coffee table with one hand a little closer to us, almost boxing us in, and my heart rate picks up.
“Sorry, I just wanted my coffee closer.”
I quickly wave my hand. “You’re fine.”
“It sounds like she was really fun.” He brings the coffee to his lips, taking a quick sip.
“She was amazing.” My thoughts trail off and I find myself thinking of the days after her accident. The weeks and months I spent in a state of depression and sadness.
“Brianna was funny and fiery and such a great friend. Everybody loved her. She was so open-minded and accepting. She brought out so much good in me—in everyone around her. I don’t know how I would’ve made it through high school without her.
There are so many moments I play back, and I just…
” My eyes well up and a lump forms in my throat.
“I loved being her friend.” My words are hushed.
“She was sunshine in its brightest form. I always wished I could be more like that. But she was also steady and resilient. She held my hand on graduation day and we ugly cried together when we tossed our caps in the air. Losing her was—is the biggest loss of my life.”
The candle burning nearby cracks, and I don’t hear anything else as I focus my eyes on Liam staring at me. His hand moves to rub the back of my neck in a comforting way that makes me want to slip into his embrace entirely.
“Her accident crushed me. It took me months to come out of the dark place it put me in. I had so much anger and sadness, I couldn’t see past it.
I couldn’t see the light at the end of the terrible, terrible tunnel I was stuck in.
I barely remember going to classes, to work.
I honestly don’t know how I managed to finish school and even just function.
It was the worst time of my life. She was hit head-on one night while driving home from work.
She worked at this cute little restaurant right on a mountainside.
A middle-aged man—drunk off his ass—crossed the center line and…
she never stood a chance. I’ll never forget her sister’s phone call, her cries, the bloodcurdling scream that left my chest, and the sobs that felt never-ending.
I didn’t think it was possible for a person to cry that much.
It took a long time—too long—for him to be charged.
But the day it finally happened, I made the choice to stay sober. ”
“Dem…I…god, I don’t even know what to say. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Wind whistles outside the sliding glass door, and I glance out to see palm trees swaying against dark skies.
“So that’s what the B stands for. It’s in her handwriting. It’s just something small but”—I rotate my wrist, looking at the script—“I needed a way to still see her every day…otherwise I thought I might die,” I whisper.
If Bri were here right now, she’d be asking me why I’m pretending I don’t like being around this man.
She’d ask why I keep making things hard for him and why I can’t just let myself live and see where things go.
We’d go back and forth about the pros and cons, what it might mean for my career, his career—but we’d land on her telling me to follow my heart.
Because if nothing else, Bri was always following hers.
“I’ve wondered for years, I’m glad to know. Thanks for sharing her with me.”
He smiles, lips pressed together softly and it forces the memory of our kiss to the forefront of my brain.
“She would’ve loved you.” Reaching for a puzzle piece, I smile to myself.
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm,” I hum. “You’re kind of similar, I think.”
“I take that as the highest compliment Demi Sanchez can give.”
“It probably is.”
He shifts in his seat, creating space between us and slides the outline of the puzzle closer.
“I’m going to stay on this side of the table, okay? Don’t go scooting away from me,” he teases, and I hold up my right hand.
“Hey, I like my spot. It’s the perfect placement in the room I’ve learned.”
“Yeah?” He chuckles. “How so?”
“Well”—I point to the sliding glass door—“I can see outside perfectly so I know what the weather is doing. I can hear the music, see the bathroom door down the hall, and I’m the perfect distance from the candle. I can still smell it, but it’s not overpowering.”
His shoulders shake as a low laugh rumbles in his chest. “You’re very aware of your surroundings. Not sure if that’s something you’ve had to learn or just a beautiful part of your brain.”
His comment is interesting. Because, is it?
Did I have to train myself to be aware of everything all the time because I could never feel relaxed?
I’m so hyper-aware of the sounds, sights, and smells around me all the time.
I never stopped to think if it’s a survival tactic I learned over the last decade.
My silence causes him to nudge me with his shoulder.
“You got quiet. What’s going on up there?” He gently taps my temple.
“Just thinking.” I shrug. “And you’ve mentioned my brain twice in the last thirty seconds. That a thing for you?” I tease, nudging him lightly.
“Honestly? Yeah. You’re smart, Dem, and it’s hot.”
A man interested in my brain and not just my body has to be the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced.
My cheeks heat and I can feel the blush coating my entire face as I move my attention back to the puzzle, grabbing a random piece off the table, as if I have plans on where it goes.
Truthfully, though, I’m doing anything I can not to look at Liam right now.
Because looking at him lately, especially today, has me wanting to kiss him.
My free hand taps on the edge of the table while my other scrambles over the puzzle, frantically searching for the spot to put this piece.
I press it lightly into a connection that looks like it fits.