Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I never want to see you again, Liam. Being with you destroys me.
“It wasn’t that I couldn’t stand you,” he continued. “It was that there was nothing I wanted but you. It was like a toxic, fucked-up obsession, Liam, and I couldn’t stand it any longer. You were a part of my soul, and you kept self-destructing. Every time you hurt yourself, it hurt me.”
My throat felt tight again.
“I… I had no idea it affected you that much,” I said.
His eyes fixed on mine, his gaze so intense it made my heart slam in my chest.
“I remember coming home and finding you passed out on the couch. Every single time, I was afraid you’d somehow given yourself alcohol poisoning or gone too far. I remember when you’d tell me you hadn’t eaten in two days because you wanted to look good on camera, and I was so scared you’d waste away. You would drive a hundred fucking miles an hour on side streets. You’d kiss me and tell me you loved me, and all I could think was that at any point, I could lose all of that love for some stupid, stupid reason.”
Guilt crept through me like black sludge. My heart ached remembering the reality of my behavior ten years ago—hell, the reality that had been my life until a month or two ago. I had been like a poison to anyone who cared about me.
I stared down at the table, my eyes focusing on the uneaten remnants of my sandwich.
“I really hurt you,” I whispered. “I really hurt you and I had no idea.”
Red leaned forward, running his palms over his face and then letting them drop.
“You were addicted to drinking, drugs, thrill seeking. And I was addicted to you. To loving you, to taking care of you, to making sure everything was going to be fine. Do you know how many times I carried you from the couch or floor into the bedroom, when you were blacked out?”
I shook my head slowly. “I had no idea. Of course not.”
Red swallowed, leaning back a little, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob. He looked like a world-weary king, disappointed about a kingdom he’d lost. I wished I could apologize for every single fucking time I’d ever made him worry about me.
“So, no, I didn’t hate you,” Red said. “I loved you way, way too much. And I knew if I ever saw you again, I’d get sucked right back in.”
My insides felt heavy. “I really shouldn’t have come to Amberfield,” I said quietly. “Coming here... expecting that I could just, I don’t know, charm you again in ten minutes, easy-peasy, and you’d forgive me for all of it—”
“No,” he said. “But I’m still glad you came here.”
“Bullshit,” I said. I stood up, crossing over to the other side of the room, not knowing what to do with myself. “We both know it was a bad thing, me coming here. You just had the courage to say it.”
“But everything is different now,” Red said. “You are different.”
“I’m so afraid that I’m not,” I said. My hands had started to tremble just a little. I stared out the front window, looking at one of the smaller trees blowing in the wind, and the beautiful Gallica roses. “Every single day it’s a struggle not drinking. You know that, right?”
He paused for a moment, and I turned to see him watching me, concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
I shrugged, shaking my head. “Sometimes I think I am. And then Colin goes and does shit like he did today, and it seems like the only solution is to completely erase myself using a bottle of vodka.”
“What did Colin do today?”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“What did he do?” Red asked again, standing up and coming over to my side.
I sighed. I reached into my pocket, pulling out my phone, trying to hold it steady so Red didn’t see the shake in my hands.
I navigated to Colin’s Twitter account, scrolling to the set of photos he’d posted of me. I handed my phone to Red.
His gaze danced over the screen. He looked at the picture of my dick with the precum dripping down it, then the picture of me in a pink jock strap, then the one where I was giving the camera big, needy eyes while I gripped my shaft in my fist. I swore I saw his cheeks turning a little red, and I wondered if it had been a good idea to show him these.
He cleared his throat, then licked his lips. “Um. Those are… those are nice photos of you,” he said. “Very nice.”
I couldn’t help but puff out a small laugh, despite everything. “Thank you, Red.”
“I like the first one,” he said.
“Precum is always a nice touch,” I said.