Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
For so, so fucking long.
The bar was packed now, full of a ton of college students but also other people of all ages, including an elderly woman who was absolutely killing a round of whack-a-mole. I squeezed Jax’s hand a little tighter as we walked back over to the restaurant portion of the bar.
“Oh, no,” Jax said in a low voice as we approached the booth where we’d been camped out all night.
I glanced over and saw Stevie there, a glass of brown liquor in his hand and a very glazed-over look on his face.
“Buddy,” he called out as he saw Jax coming over. Stevie swayed back and forth a little as he sat, then picked up the glass and neatly shot back the entire thing, all in a few gulps.
“Hey,” Jax said, furrowing his brow. “Is that straight whiskey?”
“No, officer. It’s just water. I swear.” Stevie erupted into a fit of overblown laughter.
I recognized it instantly. Hell, I’d recognized it from the first second that I’d seen him there, slumped on the booth.
“I think he’s blacking out,” I said softly to Jax, my chest tightening at the familiar sight. “Or well on his way to it.”
Jax nodded grimly, turning to Stevie. He dropped my hand from his and took the empty glass from Stevie, putting it on the table before it fell to the floor.
“Whoa, there,” Jax said, grabbing Stevie under his shoulders and helping him sit up straighter. “What happened, bro?”
“She doesn’t fucking care, man,” Stevie said.
“Please tell me you didn’t call Jen?”
“She didn’t fucking answer, dude,” Stevie said, slurring a bit. “Called her, like, four more times, and jack shit. I just want to talk. That’s all I need. God, I fucking miss her.”
My chest was as cold as ice now. I quickly headed over toward the bar, grabbing a big pitcher of ice water and a plastic pint cup, bringing it over to the table. I poured a big glass, putting it in front of Stevie.
Jax was sitting next to him in the booth now, trying to keep him in conversation.
“Thank you,” Jax said softly. “So fucking much, Charlie. Hey. Hey—Stevie, come on—”
Stevie had taken his phone out again, putting it on speakerphone as he attempted to call the girl again.
I felt frantic, watching from the sidelines. I desperately wanted to make sure he was okay, but I also knew there wasn’t much of anything I could do, other than keep refilling his water.
“You two,” Stevie said, shaking his head slowly. “You look so damn happy. Fucking smitten. It just… it just made me think of her, you know?”
“But things ended with you and Jen months ago,” Jax said, consoling him. “Here. A little more water.”
It went on like this for the next hour and a half. Stevie kept asking for more whiskey and kept asking to call his ex-girlfriend Jen, and we kept preventing those things from happening. We gave Stevie two different non-alcoholic cocktails, and luckily he sucked them right down. His other friends had apparently disappeared off to another bar, and they’d left him back here on his own after he’d lied to them and said he was going to “meet up with Jen.”
At a certain point, he’d passed through a few waves of bad decisions and was coming out the other side, just seeming drunk and exhausted. Jax and I paid up at the bar then walked with Stevie out to the car, getting him into the back seat.
Jax and I took a beat before getting in the car. The night was still in full swing for the rest of Pearl Street, with people buzzing around us, music blaring from the cars driving by.
“I am so sorry,” Jax said, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “I’ll make this up to you, okay?”
I furrowed my brow. “Don’t apologize. He really needs your help. You’re being a very good friend. Let’s get him home.”
I let out a sigh as I got into the passenger seat. Guilt pooled in my stomach. It wasn’t just that my picture-perfect date with Jax had ended in an unexpected way—the truth was that I felt like I’d been looking in a mirror from the moment I’d laid eyes on Stevie’s drunken breakdown.
My thoughts hung in my brain like a fog as I looked out the passenger side window at the lights whizzing by as we drove. What I’d seen tonight may as well have been a carbon copy of the things I’d done for the last many years of my life, binge drinking and continually falling in love with people who were not ever going to be there for me.
Being on the outside of it was bleak.
Jax had seen me like that. More than once. And even though that version of me felt like a sort of stranger, now, it would still always be a part of me.