“Why the fuck are you in my mom’s bed, Greg?!” He ignores her, staring blatantly at me, his chest heaving, lasers beaming from his eyes.
I hold up my hands in surrender, swallowing. “I can explain.”
He laughs, haughty and irate. “Oh, please do. I’d love to hear you try to talk yourself out of this.” He shakes his head. “Actually, I’d love to never hear you talk again. To never see you again.” Emotion chokes his words. “Fuck, I think I’m going to be sick.”
He takes off down the hall, and instantly, Amanda and I jump out of bed. She tugs on her robe while I struggle into my still-damp shorts laying on the bathroom floor, and then we both tear down the hall after him.
“David?” Amanda calls.
“I can’t fucking believe you,” David calls from downstairs, and we both fly down them, trying to catch him before he leaves. He’s at the front door when we reach him, and he spins on me, shoving me hard in the chest. “You’re my fucking friend, Greg. You’re supposed to be my best friend!”
“Just listen for a second,” I try.
“She’s my mom, you piece of shit. My mom.”
His blue eyes are more a shade of red now, his brow furrowed deep, neck strained as he puffs his chest to mine.
“I care about her.”
David’s head snaps back, and then he laughs. “You care about her. Yeah, enough to fuck her when she’s not even divorced? You’re a goddamn pervert and a backstabbing prick. That’s what you are.”
“David,” Amanda scolds.
He spins on her then. “He’s my friend, Mom. You’ve known him since we were kids. What the hell is wrong with you?”
That breaks her, tears shimmering in her eyes, and I step between them to get his rage centered on me again. “Listen, I know this is hard. We didn’t want you to find out like this.”
Fuck.
I know the moment the words come out that they’re a mistake.
David’s brows shoot up. “Find out,” he repeats, eyes skirting to his mom. “How long has this been going on?”
“It hasn’t. It was one time,” Amanda says, but I cut her off.
“I think we’ve both known for a while how we feel about each other.”
David’s jaw drops, and he lets out an incredulous laugh, walking away from us with his hands scrubbing back through his hair. Then, he spins on me again.
“And what? I’m supposed to be okay with this? Give you my blessing? Call you Dad?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say.
“Ridiculous?” He almost laughs again, but it dies in his throat.
Then, he rears back, and slams his fist right into my eye.
“OH MY GOD, DAVID!”
Amanda’s scream is all I hear over the ringing in my ears, over the pain striking like lightning as I grunt and nearly fly to the ground. I cover my eye with my hand, taking a moment to compose myself, missing half the conversation happening around me before I finally come to again.
Just in time to see David storm out the door and hear it slam behind him.
Amanda is staring at a set of car keys in her hand, her bottom lip wobbling, tears streaming down her face.
I run to her, wrap her in my arms, quiet her and hold her head to my chest. “It’s okay,” I tell her, even though we both know it’s not. “Just let him cool down. He was surprised. It’ll—”
“You have to go,” she says through the tears.
“I’m not going anywhere, not after that.”
“Greg, this was a mistake,” she cries, pressing her hands into my chest. She pushes gently, creating space.
Space that nearly kills me.
I swallow, shaking my head over and over. “No. No, you don’t mean that. I’m sorry he found out that way, Amanda, but this doesn—”
“We never should have even entertained this!” she screams, her eyes still pouring tears as she brings them to meet mine. “Don’t you see what we’ve done? We betrayed his trust. We hurt him.”
I try to swallow past my sandpaper tongue but can’t.
“He just needs a little space, a little time. He’ll understand. He’ll—”
“This can’t happen,” Amanda says, sniffing and storming past me into the kitchen. “We can’t happen, and you need to go.”
I catch her by the elbow, turning her to face me. “You don’t mean that.”
She won’t look at me, even when I bend to her level.
“Amanda, look at me.”
She still won’t.
“You care about me, just like I care about you. It wasn’t a mistake. We’ve been fighting it for months when we’ve both known all along that the only time we feel right, the only time we feel anything is when we’re together.”
Her face crumples at that, more tears streaming.
“We will figure this out. It will be okay,” I promise. “Just… please. Don’t push me away right now.”
I’ve never wished so desperately that I could warp time. I wish I could turn back the dial, go back to this morning, kiss her sweetly and slip out the door and avoid this whole thing. I wish we had more time. I wish we could have talked it through, made a plan, figured out how to tell him — together.
Amanda blows out a breath through her lips that seems to steady her, but then she lifts her chin. “I want you to go.”
I close my eyes, the words like another punch to the face. I’m tempted to beg again, to drop to my fucking knees and plead for her not to do this. I’m not above groveling. I’m not above laying myself bare and pleading with her to see how badly this will kill me.
But I won’t disrespect her like that.
She wants me to go.
So, I’ll go.
Releasing her elbow, I slowly trudge up the stairs. I take my time putting on my shirt and pulling on my sneakers, hoping maybe she’ll change her mind with me out of the room. But when I descend the stairs again, she seems more resolute than before.
My heart is an aching, bleeding thing as I swipe my keys off the hook by the door. I pause there, though, hand hovering over the knob, every voice inside me screaming for me to stay.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise her again. “What happens next is up to you.”
And then I leave.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
GREG
“I need you to lead this,” Beck says as we walk through the doors of Shipwrecked on Monday. He nods at where Dane is already seated at the bar. “You know him better than I do.”
“And you know Lars better, which is the only reason I let you drag me into this in the first place.”
Beck frowns. “Why are you so grumpy?”
“Long weekend,” I mutter.
He appraises me with a furrowed brow as we approach the bar. I’m sure he can tell as well as anyone else that I’m far from okay, but thankfully drops it, not pressing any further as we flank either side of Dane.
I order my usual soda and bitters solemnly, a deep sigh leaving my chest that I’m here at all. A bar is the last place I want to be, let alone pestering one of my best friends for details about his love life when mine is in shambles.