“She’d give me a kick up the ass is what you’re trying to say.”
Alix fought a sad smile. “Yeah. She would.” A shudder vibrated up and down her spine. “I don’t know what I would do if it was my mom or dad. I know they’ve always tried to be there in their own way. I know they’ve done the best they can and that they love me and Chance. We’re a family. For better or worse.”
“We are too. And it’s always been better.”
Ross leaned forward and bowed his head. He scrubbed at his face but left his hands there. Even though her hand trembled, she set it on his back and rubbed it in small circles, offering comfort the only way she could. She felt like the entire world had turned upside down in the last hour. She’d come to the tower because she wanted to be alone. Because her parents were out on a date with each other- yes, they still did that- and Chance was MIA, probably out with his flavor of the week.
She’d gone to think, about Ross and what happened in the alley. About making a real truce, because after she calmed down, she realized she didn’t want to spend all her time fighting and holding grudges. That wasn’t where she wanted to be. It wasn’t who she wanted to be.
She’d never imagined that her evening would end up like this. Her turning down the one man she always wanted when he actually wanted her back. Them sitting up there like the old friends they never really were, more connected in that moment than she swore she’d been with anyone in her entire life. It was painful. It was raw. It was also the most honest she’d ever been with him. With herself. The most she’d seen Ross open up and actually feel. She always knew it was there. She just wished that the transparency she’d craved could have come with happier circumstances.
“It’s going to be okay,” she said, even though she was pretty sure it wasn’t. She had to hope. They all had to hope. What else could they do? “You have to be strong. For her.”
“I don’t know if I can be. When she told me, I couldn’t stand there and take it. I couldn’t listen to her tell me that she’s sorry or see the fear in her eyes. I was just so fucking angry. Why couldn’t it happen to someone else? Some evil fucking person?”
Alix shook her head. She looped her arm around Ross’s shoulders, even though it pathetically only went halfway. He was so huge, so broad, so masculine up close, and she was so small in comparison. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been lucky enough to graze his finger or catch his scent in passing.
Maybe she needed to go away. She needed to grow the hell up. She hadn’t got that memo when she got home, making demands and crazy conditions on something that should come naturally. She got it now. If this was all she was meant for, then it was the most painful role she’d ever play, but she’d do it. She’d be Ross’s friend.
“I’m here,” she said again. “Me and Chance both are. And my parents. If you want to keep this a secret again, I understand, but I know, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Ross leaned into her, just a fraction. They both stared out at the shimmering, shifting horizon. Below them, a world went on. A world went on without them. People hurt. People ached. People laughed and cried. They lived and they died. Life was shitty and broken and so beautiful that it hurt, all at their feet.
“I’m sorry I called you a bitch.”
“I’m sorry I was one.”
Ross sighed. She did too.
“Come over. I’ll bandage up your knuckles and give you some ice. You shouldn’t go home bloody like that. It will upset your mom.”
“Your parents aren’t home?”
“Are they ever?” It was said without heat, more affectionately than anything. It was really one of the first times she hadn’t been bitter about being forgotten. She’d never really stopped to realize that most people who had been together for three decades and raised two kids, didn’t bother keeping the fire alive.
“Mom will be okay. She’ll understand.”
“Are you sure?”
Ross finally turned. Her arm fell away when he did and she shifted back, giving him space. He wasn’t crying, but his eyes were red-rimmed and he looked exhausted. Broken in a way she’d never seen him before.
“Yeah. Thanks, Alix Bear.” He unfolded himself from the hard metal platform, slowly, like he’d aged a thousand years sitting there.
Her heart ached and fluttered in her chest all at once. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
Ross walked over the edge and threw a leg over the railing. “I will,” he called, right before he disappeared from view and left her with the dull clang and bang of him scaling his way to the bottom.