B00AAOCX2E EBOK Read Free Page B

“Pete called this afternoon.”
    I sobered in an instant, my stomach rising and falling like I was on an elevator. Pete was Ian’s stepfather and the man who raised him after his mother split because the responsibilities of parenting didn’t suit her party-girl lifestyle. Pete was also a raging alcoholic whose violent temper had broken Ian – physically, mentally, and emotionally – more times than I could count. I knew, because I was always there to pick up the pieces.
    “What did he want?” I asked, struggling to keep the contempt out of my voice. It would only put him on the defensive.
    Ian reached out to scrape his nail against a bit of sticky residue on one of his handles. “He’s back in AA.”
    “Another attempt at amends?” I was less successful at hiding the acid in my tone this time. Pete played hopscotch with sobriety. This was his sixth – seventh? – time enrolling in AA in as many years.
    Ian’s nod was almost imperceptible. “He asked me to meet him at noon tomorrow.”
    I closed my eyes and exhaled through my nose.
Here we go again.
I opened my eyes and fought to keep my voice even. “What did you tell him?”
    “I didn’t answer one way or the other.”
    “But you’re considering it.”
    “I didn’t say that. I don’t know. He sounds like he’s doing okay. And he’s made it six months, which is longer than any of the other times.”
    If that was supposed to convince me, it was a miserable failure. Pete always did well at first. “Good for him. I wish him the best of luck, I do, and I hope it sticks. But—”
    Ian’s eyes swung to mine. “Don’t get my hopes up, right?”
    I winced at the edge in his tone then nodded. I hated being the pessimist here, especially knowing how much Ian wanted Pete to be the guy he was before his mother left, but someone had to say it. Every time Pete tried for sobriety, he’d make overtures and apologies for years of being an abusive asshole, and Ian
would
get his hopes up that things would change.
    Reading the turmoil in Ian’s eyes, I reached out and touched his face, rubbing my thumb against the scar hidden beneath the facial hair on his chin. A cracked jaw and seven stitches was his reward for one of Pete’s slips, and it was far from the only physical evidence of Pete’s temper. “How many times are you going to do this to yourself?” I whispered.
    His nostrils flared and he jerked his head away. “I haven’t decided if I’m doing anything yet.”
    “Haven’t you?” Despite what he said, I knew it wasn’t a matter of
if
he’d go see him, but
when
. He didn’t need my approval – Ian was going to do what Ian was going to do – and he wasn’t really asking for it. I think he just wanted my reassurance that I would be there for him when Pete went down in flames again. And I would.
    “You know what? Fuck him.” Ian rolled his shoulders, like he was squaring off with someone. “Besides, we did sign up to do SHAZ-Fest, right?”
    I could see in his eyes that nothing had changed. He’d still see his stepfather and get his hopes up, just not right away. The delay was of some consolation to me.
    My mouth curved. “
I
signed us up.”
    “Yep, and I’m not gonna let you down. I’ll be there for… at least the first hour.”
    “Stay for the whole two hours and I’ll treat you to lunch afterwards,” I said in a singsong voice. When he still looked reluctant, I gave him a coy look and dangled the ultimate bait: “Luna’s?”
    He narrowed his eyes at the mention of our favorite restaurant. “You’re evil.”
    I giggled, knowing I had him. “That’s why you love me.” I leaned in and pecked his cheek. “Sleep tight. Drive safe.”
    I jogged toward the A-frame building I shared with my roommate, Chelsea Prince. I took the steps to the third floor two at a time and waved down from the balcony rail when I reached the landing. Ian wouldn’t leave until I was safe inside. His motorcycle roared in answer only after I closed the