Chapter 12
EREDINE
“Idon’t know what I was thinking.” Arran’s words rasped like they were coated with sandpaper. Tears stung my eyes from the emotion bleeding from him. “I wasn’t thinking. I was drunk. And I went into that water knowing Colin was even drunker than I was.”
Compassion was a constant ache within me as I pressed a comforting hand to Arran’s bare back. His skin was hot, probably from the alcohol. “It was an accident. You cannot blame yourself for someone else’s actions.”
Arran looked at me, and my stomach plummeted at the sight of tears in his eyes.
Shocked, I flexed my hand on his back. “I knew better. You never go into the water when you’ve been drinking.
He was wasted, Ery. He must have been confused about how long I was under and he dove in to save me …
and drowned.” A low sob burst from him, and I watched helplessly as my seemingly happy-go-lucky friend began to cry.
“Arran.” My lips trembled with tears, but I fought them to wrap my arms around him instead.
Arran fell, his head buried against me as he cried.
I soothed him, brushing my fingers through his hair, wondering what else I could do to help.
He was carrying around so much misplaced guilt. My heart broke for him.
Eventually, he quieted and eased away. Arran scrubbed aggressively at his cheeks. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “Just had too much to drink.”
“It’s okay. It’s just me.”
Our eyes met, his still red with emotion. “Just you,” he murmured, his gaze dipping to my mouth.
My pulse leapt, and I tensed.
But Arran abruptly flopped onto his back, covered his eyes with a forearm, and groaned.
I kept my attention fixed firmly on his face because now was not the time for ogling. Getting to my feet, I patted his knee. “Don’t fall asleep like that.”
With a grunt of effort, Arran stood and then slid under the covers. I grabbed the edge of the duvet and pulled it up to his neck, and my friend caught my wrist before I could release it.
Those gorgeous blue eyes held me captive, filled with a dazzling vulnerability.
“Only Brodan knows. I can’t tell the rest of my family.
It took me forever just to build up the courage to come home.
They used to see me as such a fuckup, and this will ruin everything.
And not being able to tell them … I feel alone,” he confessed.
“I know I shouldn’t … but sometimes, I’m all alone, Ery. ”
This time, I couldn’t stop my tears because I understood.
I understood completely.
I was alone too.
Surrounded by amazing, loving people.
And yet still so alone.
Arran’s lids drooped as drunk tiredness overcame him, and his grip on me loosened, his eyes finally closing.
I didn’t want to leave him alone.
Decision made, I checked to be sure the annex door was locked, kicked off my shoes, grabbed the decorative throw off the small couch, and rounded the other side of the bed. I reclined on top of the covers, snuggled under the light blanket, and turned on my side to watch Arran sleep.
“You’re not alone,” I promised.
As if he heard me, his lips curled at the corners in his sleep.
Light prodded my eyes open and I wondered why. Had I forgotten to close my bedroom curtains last night? I blindly reached for my duvet to drag it up over my head but couldn’t find it.
What?
My eyes flew open, and the bleary vision of a man’s face met mine.
Fear shot through me, and I whimpered.
“Hey, hey, Ery, it’s me. You’re okay.”
At the familiar sound of Arran, my pulse slowed, and I blinked a few more times to clear the sleep.
Sure enough, the man lying on his side before me, gazing at me in concern, was Arran Adair.
And just like that, last night flooded back.
“Oh. Hey.”
His brows pinched together. “You all right?”
I nodded, a little embarrassed, and pushed into a sitting position. A dull throb pounded behind my eyes, probably from lack of rest. It had taken me a while to fall asleep because I’d been so worried about Arran. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know. Haven’t checked.” He sat up, too, and yawned.
Keeping my eyes off his nakedness, which seemed so much more intimate in the daylight, I asked, “How are you feeling?”
He raked his fingers through his hair as he winced. “Ashamed I got so drunk.”
“Lachlan was even drunker than you, if that helps.”
“Aye, what a right pair we make.”
“Do you … do you remember much about last night?” I wondered if he remembered his confession.
Arran held my gaze. “I remember everything. I told you about Colin and me … had a bit of a breakdown about that. Sorry.” He glanced away, embarrassed.
“You never need to apologize.” I reached out to cover his hand with mine. “I hope you don’t regret telling me. You know I will tell no one. It’s not my story to tell.”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t regret it. And I trust you. I trust you with all my darkest secrets. But …”
My heart lurched at “I trust you with all my darkest secrets,” but the but gave me pause.
Arran’s eyes narrowed. “Has it changed the way you see me?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
He swallowed hard, pulling his hand out from under mine.
“No, Arran, not like that. In a good way.”
Shock slackened his features. “In a good way? How is that possible?”
“Because I don’t blame you for what happened, and you shouldn’t either. But knowing that you do, that it made you fear coming home … I admire you so much for facing those fears. I just wish you wouldn’t blame yourself. It was a terrible accident. Now all you can do is be the man you want to be.”
“I’m trying,” he confessed hoarsely.
“You don’t need to try. You’re a good man. We wouldn’t be friends otherwise.”
Something bright gleamed in his expression, and he nodded. “Thank you.”
I smiled but had to look away because holding his stare made breathing difficult.
“Do you think Thane might cook a fry-up? I’m starving,” Arran suddenly announced, pushing out of the bed.
I shook my head, marveling at his steel stomach. If I’d have been that drunk, I’d be wrecked the next day. Then something occurred to me. “I probably should go, so no one gets the wrong idea.”
Arran frowned as he strode toward the bathroom. “Don’t be silly. They know I was useless to anyone last night. Come have breakfast.”
My cheeks felt hot at the idea of Arran being the opposite of useless in that department. “Okay.”
And then as I waited for him to freshen up, I heard his voice in my head over and over, telling me he trusted me.
He’d trusted me with information only Brodan knew.
Arran trusted me.
Something eased inside I didn’t know needed easing. All this time, I was waiting to trust other people. It never occurred to me it might feel good to be trusted so completely in return.