I almost wish I drank.
Maybe if I did, I could escape the crushing pain of the last few days, of the soul-draining realization that I held Amanda in my arms only for her to slip through my fingertips in the next breath.
I can still feel her there, like a phantom limb I’ll never be rid of. I smell the scent of her shampoo when I’m at the hospital, hear a laugh that sounds just like hers in my condo building, see a head of long brown hair walking down the street that nearly makes me call out her name.
All weekend long, images and sounds and smells have tortured me.
And all weekend long, Amanda has ignored my calls.
I take my first sip in apathetic synchronization with Beck, my mind far away, a mud slide of what if’s continuing its destruction in my heart.
What if I just showed up at her house?
What if she slapped me for disrespecting her wishes?
What if she invited me inside?
What if she’s thinking about me, too?
What if she wants to see me?
What if she never wants to see me?
What if this is it?
What if there’s no fixing it?
What if I have to live with this loss forever?
I must have sighed, or made some kind of noise, because I catch Dane watching me, the line between his brows thick and worried.
I force a smile, and though I know it’s not a believable one, it satisfies Dane enough that he turns his attention to Beck, instead.
It won’t be long before Beck won’t be a part of our crew at all. He’s got one foot still in Tampa and the other down south in Eden, where his unexpected lady waits for him. He’s only here for the rest of the year to wrap up cases he’s been working on, then he’ll be moving his practice and the rest of his life.
Hence him pestering me into dragging Dane here for a good ol’ brotherly threat to treat Larsen right in his absence, since he won’t be here to ensure that himself.
Beck glances at me, giving me the eyes like I should be the one to start the conversation. But I’ve got about as much enthusiasm as a sloth in a circus ring, and I just take another drink, ignoring him.
“All right,” Beck barks. “This is bullshit. I’ll address the obvious.”
I feign a relieved sigh. “Thanks, man. I’m struggling.”
Dane cocks a brow at me as if to say no shit. “Oh, are you gonna share what crawled up your ass and farted?”
“Later.” I wave him off. “Beck is leading the charge.”
The man in mention lifts his whiskey. “What’s the story with you and Larsen?”
“We’re friends,” Dane answers simply, but Beck doesn’t back down.
“I’m not looking for the condensed version.”
“I didn’t know we were grilling tonight.”
Beck claps him on the shoulder. “Oh, come on. You’ve been doing who knows what with her for over a month. We’re due for a report with some detail. Feel free to gloss over the naked sections.”
“You’re such a doctor,” Dane mutters.
“Quit digressing. I told Lars to take a load off and ease her stress levels. That must be where you come in. Are you going to make an honest woman out of her?”
I cough into my fist. “Most likely the opposite.”
“Dude,” Dane says, punching my arm. “I take offense to that.”
“No, you don’t.” I rub the spot on my bicep where his fist landed, another more recent punch to the eye flashing in my memory. That was a fun story to tell when I showed up looking like a UFC fighter at the hospital this morning. “You’re never serious about anything. I can count on you to go with the flow, regardless of the situation. Unless it involves settling down and forming an attachment. Larsen is the exact opposite. Until recently.”
That perks him up. “Oh?”
And I smile.
Got him.
“Ah, now I have your interest.”
“Just curious,” Dane tries, returning to his beer, but I know better.
I elbow him. “The rigid and frosty Doctor Larsen Belle is officially thawing. She winked at us, not to mention the giggling and smiles. I’ve never seen her look so happy. Don’t ruin it.”
I don’t think I’ve ever seen the kind of smile that spreads on Dane’s face next, not even when he successfully hooked up with one of his professors in college. There’s something different in this smile, something… deeper.
My stomach tightens, because I know I wore that same smile just a few nights ago when I had Amanda laughing in the rain, her arms outstretched toward the sky, her heart free and happy…
“Oh, you like her.”
Beck’s assessment brings me back to the present moment, to helping my friend, and I swallow down a cold drink of soda to try to keep my mind clear.
“Of course, I do,” Dane answers.
“No, you really like her.”
I do my best to perk up. “Shut the fuck up. You caught feelings? For an actual woman?”
“As opposed to what? A blow-up doll?” Dane glares at me.
I shove him off. “Don’t be a dick. I need this distraction right now. Are you in love?”
“Please,” he says, waving a hand overhead. “Announce my demise to the entire bar.”
I roll my eyes. “Dramatic much? No one knows who we’re talking about.”
“The puzzle is simple to solve.”
“What’re you worried about? Besides the usual.”
“It’s complicated,” he mumbles.
I almost laugh at that, but laughing isn’t in my range of emotions these days.
“When is it not? We’re well versed on the subject,” I remind him, sharing a glance with Beck, who’s had more than his fair share of complicated over the past few months, too.
“Our arrangement is simple and temporary,” Dane says. “She’s very adamant about keeping things casual. I don’t want to scare her off.”
Beck blanches. “Are you sure? Larsen just doesn’t strike me as the type to do a no-strings deal.”
“Trust me, we’ve discussed it. Several times.” He rolls his shoulders back with a sigh that makes me wonder if he wants more. “Don’t worry about my intentions. Belle is in good—”
I sputter on my soda at that. “Belle?”
“Yeah?”
Again, something short of a laugh escapes me, but I can’t help the genuine grin that finds me.
I think Dane is falling in love.
“That’s adorable.”
“Why? It’s her last name,” he deadpans. “I’m not going to call her Lars.”
“Why not? Everyone else does.”
“I’m not everyone.”
Beck keeps probing. “But you don’t want more with her? How do you manage to remain detached after this long?”
It’s me who can easily answer that. “Our buddy has the uncanny ability to cut and run. Those bad habits go way back before he met me.”
“Alright,” Dane grunts. “Enough of the third degree. Let’s focus on why you’re acting like a soggy paper bag left out in the rain.”
My frown slips at that.
I crack my neck, not wanting the conversation to shift to me, but at the same time, I might actually go insane if I don’t talk to someone about what happened.