Chapter Two
EMERSON
(Then)
A Week Later
I held his hand as tight as I could.
It didn’t take away the pain. Nothing would.
Pulmonary embolism.
His mother died instantly.
I watched my best friend fall apart that day, and I wasn’t so sure I would ever have my Miller back.
The funeral sucked.
The pastor tried to make everyone feel better by talking about heaven. It was not what Miller needed to hear.
Because, besides me, his mom had been his best friend, his greatest cheerleader. His Navy dad was hardly home.
They were the dynamic duo, as Miller usually called them.
And now?
Now he just had me.
The shoes were too big to fill.
The task too daunting to even think about.
Encouraging words fell on deaf ears as both Miller and I placed a rose on the casket and walked out into the parking lot.
“Let’s get drunk,” he announced once we were back in his truck.
I nodded. “Alright.”
His gaze sharpened in on me. “Seriously?”
Shrugging, I put on my sunglasses so he wouldn’t see my puffy eyes. “I think if anyone deserves some underage drinking, it’s you.”
We didn’t talk again until we were back at his house, in his room, surrounded by liquor he’d taken from his parents’ stash.
“This is probably a bad idea,” I said.
“Yeah,” he agreed, before lying back next to me on his bed and staring up at the ceiling.
The fan whipped around in a comforting rhythm, while I clutched his hand like a lifeline, my own fingers slowly growing numb as he squeezed back.
After a few minutes, he finally spoke again. “I have something to tell you.”
“Shit, are you pregnant?” I teased, trying to break the tension.
His laugh was soft and then gone. I hated it. The silence between us. There was usually so much teasing and laughter.
“Miller?” I leaned up on my side and looked down at him. “What is it?”
“Dad—” he choked out. “He was relocated . . .” He gulped. “Down South.”
Horror washed over me. “But it’s the middle of your senior year!”
“Yup.”
“You like it here!”
“Yup.”
“Your mom just died!” I was so pissed. So. Pissed.
“And the worst part . . .” Miller finally locked eyes with me. “I don’t remember half the funeral—not because I miss her so much, but because I’m going to miss you. It’s like I lost you too, and you aren’t even gone.”
“Miller . . .” I fought to keep my tears at bay, but they started streaming down my face all by themselves. “You have me. You will always have me.”
“For now.” He sighed. “And next week? When I start at a new school?”
“NEXT WEEK!” I roared, jumping to my feet and nearly kicking him in the junk.
“Damn, you’re terrifying when you’re angry.” He finally smiled a real smile, one without pieces of sadness attached to it.
“Hell yes, I’m angry! He has no right. NO right.” I fumed, punching the pillow, my hand dangerously close to taking out Miller’s perfect face. “Why don’t you just stay here? Live with me!”
“Was that a marriage proposal?”
“Come on, Miller. I wasn’t even down on one knee. Don’t be dramatic.”
“Me? Dramatic?” He shook his head. “Never. You’re the cheer-tator, remember?”
“I rue the day I let you watch Bring It On.”
“‘That’s alright! That’s okay! You’re gonna pump our gas someday!’” He sang in a perfect bravado.
I rolled my eyes. Happy that at least he was acting like himself.
“Did you sleep with him?”
“Well, if that wasn’t a complete subject change.” I felt my cheeks burn red and suddenly lost the ability to swallow.
“Did you ever . . . sleep with him?” he repeated.
With a deep breath, I whispered out a quiet “No.”
He bit back a curse before reaching for me and tugging my shirt over my head, his fingers working the front of my jeans before I could utter my next sentence.
“What are you doing?”
He kissed me long and hard and then whispered against my lips. “Being selfish.”
“How?”
“I’m taking a part of you with me.”