10. A Sinking Ship #2
“I’m practically sleeping with one eye open, waiting for Rory Vaughn to come into my room one night and slit my throat.”
He side-eyes me before climbing into the driver’s seat of his truck. I toss my bag into the backseat before pulling on my seatbelt.
“I think Reese is the one you need to be worried about.”
“Reese wouldn’t hurt a fly. Just because you’re scared of her—doesn’t mean I am.” I say, waving him off.
Reid scoffs as he throws his truck in reverse. “I don’t know why everyone paints her like an angel. She’s a fucking ballbuster.”
“Toward you, maybe...not to everyone else.” I briefly consider why exactly that is, but don’t think much into it—the two are opposites, and Reid is kind of an ass to everyone at first.
He goes silent before he adds, “Yeah, well, it’s always the quiet ones you have to keep an eye on. They are good at keeping secrets.”
He raises his brows, refusing to make eye contact with me as he flips me off.
“And for the record,” he grumbles between drinks of his water, “You and Aubrey don’t hate one another. You hurt each other...but it’s never been hateful.” It’s quiet for a few moments. Then he says, “But—don’t you think it’s kind of hot? Her being mad at you? That’d totally get me hard.”
I snort. “You’re fucked up, man.” I joke. But then I crane my head, “You know…for someone who prides himself as the emotionless one, you’re sure acting like you know a lot about them.”
He shrugs as he turns on the main highway leading to our apartment.
I continue with my venting session, “God, she’s fucking bossy too—telling me to do this and do that.
She can’t fucking look me in the eyes, yet has no issue telling me what to do.
And I swear, if she doesn’t stop saying please and thank you before and after every sentence, I’m going to lose my fucking mind, dude. ”
“Okay, but aren’t you the one who wanted that?” he observes, side-eyeing me. “She was trying to be your friend until you went all asshole on her.”
“Would you want to be ‘friends’ with your ex?” I argue.
It’s quiet for a second as he thinks it over and then—
“I’d have to have an ex—so I’ve got no reason to worry.”
I guess he’s got me there. Maybe I should’ve stayed in the playboy mindset—it would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.
But then again, sometimes I feel sorry for my friends—that neither of them will ever have anyone, never open themselves up enough for someone, other than me, to get to know them.
A real shame if you ask me.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, but anyone who tries that whole ‘Let’s be friends!’ thing is full of shit. She and I can never be friends.”
“Now that,” Reid grumbles, pointing a finger at me before turning up the radio, “I can agree with.”
We’re quiet for a few minutes, Reid singing along to Taylor Swift’s “So It Goes”.
How could anyone not fall in love with this guy? He’s a fucking softie.
“Look,” he starts after a minute. “You both went through some tough shit and hurt each other in the process. That’s going to take some time to get over.
I agree that the friend thing will never work, but—” He glances at me.
“Pretending to hate her...to say shit you don’t mean…
to keep her away because you’re afraid of hurting her again…
that’s low man—you’re starting to act like... ” He scratches the back of his neck.
“Like you?” I finish with a chuckle. “I’m starting to act like you.” Reid nods but snaps his mouth closed as I begin, my mind replaying his words. “Woah! Woah—wait a minute...” I say my voice trailing off.
I think over my best friend’s words again.
You both went through some tough shit.
All week, he’s been avoiding my questions. On Sunday morning, I filled him in on what happened after I left her condo Saturday, and he acted like he had no idea what she might be talking about when she suggested that she had gone through something hard, too.
Then, when I was taping his ankle before practice on Tuesday, I brought it up again, but he changed the subject, asking if I wanted to go to Melbourne’s after practice.
“You fucking bastard,” I declare.
“What?” he asks defensively.
“You know something!” My voice raises.
He bites his lip—the only tell-tale sign that Morgan Reid is nervous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit!” I yell, throwing my hands out. “Did something else happen? What don’t I remember?”
I push the strands of my hair out of my face. I thought she just meant the breakup was tough on her, that seeing me that way was hard. But what if there was something else?
Something I missed when I was too busy worrying how long it was before I could take my next painkiller.
Reid’s fingers dance over the steering wheel, confirming what I already suspect.
There is more to the story.
More that happened that he and Aubrey aren’t telling me.
“Morgan,” I warn, using his first name. Something I haven’t done since I first met him, knowing how much he fucking hates it. He’s started a fight for less than that—but at the moment, I couldn’t care less.
I watch his jaw tick, clearly annoyed with it.
“Tell. Me.”
“It’s not my business to tell.” He notes quietly.
“You’re my best friend!” I counter. “Did I do something? Say something I don’t remember?” I ask, thinking of that night and how little I remember.
I remember the parking lot. The arena. The lightpole. Reid and Aubrey finding me.
But I don’t remember much past that.
I don’t remember her leaving. I don’t remember me leaving. I don’t remember Reid starting CPR. I don’t remember Reid calling an ambulance.
Don’t remember being brought back.
Don’t remember what life was like with her.
Reid clears his throat, and I jump, being thrown back into the present. “What I will say,” he eyes me cautiously, and I can’t help but be hurt that he has been keeping whatever this is a secret.
But I suppose I can’t blame him—I haven’t exactly been in the right mindset.
“What Aubrey was going through...well, it’s something I can’t imagine having to go through alone…without the one person—” He cuts himself off as he parks, resting his head against the seat as we pull into the drive. After a while, he slowly turns to look at me. “You should’ve been there, man.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?”
“I’m her friend too, you know,” he confesses quietly. “I’ve already said too much. I’m afraid you’re on your own.”
I curse loudly as Reid starts to climb from his truck, but then he hesitates.
“I know you’ve spent a lot of time trying to forget the past. Trying to put it behind you and move forward,” he opens his door, “But some hard truths you’ve gotta face head-first. Ask her what happened.
Keep asking her. Keep being there for her.
Prove that you won’t fold when things get hard—and I think one day she’ll find it in herself to tell you.
But you have to earn that right first.” His eyes go distant—like the words hurt him as much as they do me.
“I’m going out tonight—June’s big Halloween party.
Do you want to come? Maybe try talking to Aubrey?
Say sorry for the dumb shit you said by trying to keep her away... ?”
I shake my head. No. A party is not what I need right now.
Reid rolls his eyes as he slams the driver’s side door closed, murmuring something about me being a dumbass and leaving me alone in the car.
But he’s wrong about one thing: It’s best this way—to keep her away.
Because clearly, I hurt her worse than I ever realized. Something I did but didn’t even notice.
And since when does Reid give such good relationship advice? It’s freaking me out.
I sit there for several minutes, trying to sort out the past, everything that happened that night...but each time I try to go back to that time in my life, my mind goes blank.
How could I ever remember, when all I want to do is forget?