He squeezed her tight, and then relaxed his arms.
She backed away, not meeting his gaze. “I’ll be back,” she said and headed for the bathroom upstairs.
She locked the door behind her and let the cold water run over her hands and wrists until her skin was numb. After she splashed her face, she didn’t dare look in the mirror for several minutes. Agony stared back from her reflection, but her face was mostly clear. Her insides felt like sandpaper, but the empty pit in her gut didn’t gape as wide as it had over the last week. Her mind tried to analyze what just happened, and revolted when it hit a blank wall that refused to budge. That was okay with her. She’d process later, when she was home alone with the cold beer waiting in her fridge.
She refastened her hair in a ponytail, dried her skin, and made her way downstairs. Jonathan sat at the kitchen table, as far from Luci as possible, two glasses in front of him. He’d given up trying to move the cat. Bailey did a double take when she saw he wore a white T-shirt, and slacks. His button-down was draped over the back of another chair. She wasn’t going to stare at the way the cotton stretched over his chest, highlighting the definition every time he shifted.
To distract herself, she picked up the discarded shirt. She winced when she saw the dust and moisture streaking the front. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It’ll wash out. If not, it’s replaceable. I called Greg’s. They’re delivering milk and deli sandwiches.”
“I really can’t stay.” Or didn’t think it was a good idea. Or both.
He nodded at the amber liquid over ice. “You were going to be here for a few more hours anyway. At least have a drink with me.” He nudged a glass in her direction.
Luci moved to sniff the contents, then hopped from the table and strolled into the other room.
“That’s either a good sign or a really bad one.” Bailey’s desire to argue had evaporated. She took a sip and let the sweet, smooth flavor burn down her throat. The familiar taste of ginger ale and whiskey tugged at her grief again, but she was too spent to fall into it. “Ale and Jack.”
He shrugged, then took a swig of his own drink. “It was what I could find the mixings for.”
When he ran away from home and came here, she’d been thrilled. It meant unexpected extra time with her best friend. They raided her parents’ pantry when Mom and Dad were out one evening, and stuffed themselves on cheese puffs and booze. It only took a can of soda and a couple shots of Jack Daniels, before they were giggling and falling over each other. Rather than ground her, her parents decided to go the humiliation route and told the entire town what a lightweight she was. Everyone called them Ale and Jack for the rest of their teenage years.
“It’s perfect.” She finished her drink.
“You’re staying at least until after dinner.”
The bitterness and her desire to fight back were gone. She found the cold cans of soda on the counter next to the fridge, along with the liquor. Grabbing both, she crossed the room back to the table, and dropped into a chair next to Jonathan. She poured them each another drink, before replying, “Only if we get the wake you chickened out on.”
“I didn’t chicken out.”
“Whatever.” She stared back, hoping her skepticism showed on her face.
He clinked his glass to hers. “To Nana.”
“To Nana.” She downed half her drink in a single swallow. A pleasant haze filled her head, fuzzing some of the rough edges. Maybe for tonight, she could block out the loss.