“And where’s your guy?”
“Lynnwood.” About an hour away from where we are.
He lights a blunt, bringing it up to his lips, and inhaling. The fact that he’s still naked is ridiculous. I get a vibe from him that he may think this is more than it is, which is awkward if he does. He has the drugs that help me forget about my pathetic existence and how much of a letdown I am. That is all. Nothing more, nothing less.
Hitting the blunt once more, he hands it to me, sauntering toward the laundry room. I place it between my lips, taking a drag, while I walk out the back door. It’s warm out, but there’s a refreshing breeze. It feels nice on my overheated skin. Blowing out the bittersweet smoke, my body relaxes some. My head is still pounding, though, and my stomach is all kinds of fucked up for some reason.
Thoughts continue to run back to Anderson, no matter how hard I try to avoid it. No matter how fucked up I am, no matter what I’m doing, who I’m with, my mindalwaysfucking goes straight to him. I love it and hate it in equal measures.
I miss him so fucking much. Memories of the last time we had sex come back to me. Off the trail, up against a huge tree. He unleashed on me, and I loved every goddamn second of it, even almost getting caught. The adrenaline, the arousal, the high I felt from it was all otherworldly.
Then the other night at my house.“I fucking love you. Please let me in.”
How I fucking wish I could. If I didn’t think my love would destroy him, I’d let him love me in a heartbeat. Being around him, beingwithhim, gives me something to believe in. It’s like when we’re together, the outside world vanishes, all my problems and insecurities disappear, and for those moments, I forget why we can’t work.
I don’t know how much time passes—could’ve been a few minutes or an hour—but Kalen comes outside, fully dressed this time. “You ready, man?”
“Sure, let’s roll. The girls up?”
“Yeah. They’re out front already.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Crew
Six fucking hours later, and we’re finally back to Kalen’s house—down two chicks and up a fuck ton of drugs. Just the way I like it.
His supplier was sketchy as fuck. It was him and two of his buddies, all strapped. I felt like I was in a stressful episode ofBreaking Bad, and Heisenberg was seconds away from storming the room with his pork-pie hat on, explosives in hand.
We’re outside smoking and I’m lost in my own mind. I’m fucking pissed off at myself that I did heroin last night. I’ve always felt like I had somewhat of a handle on my issue, but last night proves I definitely fucking don’t. I’m so desperate for a high that I stoop to doing something like that.Fuck.Never again. I’m not fucking doing that shit ever again.
Thankfully, Kalen’s letting me be. If I’m being honest with myself, I’d really rather be alone, but I know if I go home, Anderson will show up. It’s not that I don’t want to see him, because I do. I want to talk and laugh with him, want him to kiss and hold me. More than I should. Because I’m also fucking selfish. That’s why I allowed us to get as far as we did. I wanted him so badly, needed him in every way, and I should’ve never had that first taste. It wasn’t fair to him. If we never took things to the next level, he wouldn’t have discovered the truth like he did, and wouldn’t be plagued with worry for me like he is now. He was right when he said we should’ve stayed just friends, but I just couldn’t fucking stop myself.
What he doesn’t realize yet, but probably will with time, is that it’s better this way. I’m doing him a favor by keeping my distance. It may hurt him now, but in the long run, when he’s successful and happy, he’ll get it. He’ll understand I was never any good for him.
Against my better judgment, I unlock my phone, going to my photo album. Scrolling through, I find the last picture Anderson and I took together. It was the day we went hiking and fucked off the trail. After we did that, we came to a break in the trees, where the view was nice. We huddled together and took the selfie, both of us smiling so wide, so genuine.
Because I’m a glutton for punishment, I scroll farther back, looking at the other pictures we’ve taken together. There are several, and each one twists the knife deeper. Seeing us happy, laughing, and enjoying each other fucking hurts.
I’m basically willingly losing the one person that means the most to me, for a high that never lasts, and I fucking hate myself for it. I don’t want to be this way, don’t want to be a junkie, a disappointment, but it’s not that easy.
The demon that rages inside is stronger than me. Stronger than my hopes and dreams. Stronger than my desire to be a better man. It sank its claws into me years ago when I had the accident, and it’s refused to let up. I’m consumed by its wrath, drowning in the depths of its poison, and I don’t know how to swim to safety.
Honestly, I’m also scared as fuck to see what that’s like. I’m terrified to fight for myself, to get clean, and live with myself. Live with everything I’ve done, everyone I’ve hurt, all the fucked up shit… I’ll have to live with that, and I don’t know if I’m capable.
My entire adult life, I’ve been this shell of a person, with a mask firmly in place. No one knows who I really am anymore, not Anderson, not even myself. And that scares me.
Kalen pulls me out of my thoughts, slapping his hand against my knee. “Yo, you fucking alive in there?”
“Barely. Fuck off.”
“What’s the matter with you, bro?”
“Nothing. Just tired.”
“Wanna do some of that new coke I picked up? We can get high and fuck around?” The glint in his eyes and the way his brows waggle lets me know exactly what he means by that.
“I’m down to do some coke, but I’m not fucking around.” With the amount of drugs I’ve done over the last week, there’s no fucking way my dick would get up, even if I wanted it to.Which I fucking don’t.