One of Those Faces (85)

I leaped from the bed and grabbed it from him. “It’s nothing. Erin left it at my apartment.”

“I don’t understand why you would be carrying that around, then.”

My sweaty hand squeaked against the plastic as it closed around it.

“Have you been taking her pills?” he asked, his frown deepening.

I felt the heat pulsing through my limbs, that same hot shame from the day I’d last seen Erin.

“Harper?” He was standing right in front of me now, but my lips were locked.

I inhaled, breaking the seal. “No,” I lied.

He eyed the bottle. “Then why the hell do you have that?”

I shook my head and looked down.

“How long has this been going on?”

I still didn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t know. Occasionally. It helps me sleep, and I can’t afford it.” I glanced up at him. “I don’t have a problem with it. I can go without it.”

He sighed. “What you’re doing is dangerous.”

“I know. That’s why I only take it when I haven’t slept in days.” I thought about the night in the club and covered my face with one hand. “And the night we went to the club.”

His eyes widened. “You said you were drunk.”

“I only had one drink that night, but I guess the Xanax really knocked me out.”

“Jesus,” he said and sank back onto the floor. “Do you take it with alcohol all the time?”

I swallowed. “Yeah, usually two with a drink.”

“You have to stop,” he said after a moment.

I looked at him. His blond hair was disheveled now, and he was staring ahead, avoiding my gaze. “I know. I did. But I couldn’t handle everything today. It was too hard.”

He suddenly looked up at me. “Didn’t you say Erin’s missing?”

I nodded.

“You’ve been acting all torn up about her, but then you’re carrying around her pills and popping them any chance you get?” The disgust in his voice cut me.

“I was wrong. She’s not missing,” I said quickly. “She’s in rehab.”

He shook his head. “Wow, that’s irony, right?”

I sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a minute. “I’m just worried about you.”

“Why are you doing all of this for me?” Although it was painful, I met his eyes. “Why are you even bothering?”

He sat beside me on the bed. “Come on,” he said softly. “You must know why.”

“No. I don’t. I’m nothing but mean to you. And knowing me has caused you so much trouble.”

He covered my hand with his. “You are a little difficult sometimes.” He smiled. “But I’m always going to care about you.”

I laced my fingers around his palm.

“I love you, Harper.”

I looked away. You’re only going to hurt him again.

“You don’t have to say anything. I don’t want you to feel weird about it. I just want you to know.” His arms wrapped around me, and I clung to him. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. But I didn’t realize you were in this kind of trouble.” His hands were warm on the small of my back.

I pulled away from him, and he released me from his embrace. “This is what I was talking about. I’m . . . broken. And I don’t want to drag you into all this again.” I turned my back to him, but his fingers rested on my arm.

“I’m going to help you through this,” he said. “I want you here. And if you insist on leaving now because of this, I’m going to have to drive you back, and I’ll probably fall asleep at the wheel on the way back, and I’ll die in a fiery car crash. Is that what you want?”

“Danny—”

“Come on,” he interrupted. “Stay. But promise me you’ll stop with the pills.” He held out his hand and glanced at my bag.

I’d already made the same promise to Iann before and broken it. It was meaningless. I reached in and pulled out the bottle, then set it gently into his palm.

“I’m going to go get rid of this real quick,” he said, walking around me back out into the hall.

I sank back onto the bed and threw my bag to the ground. I remembered the disgust in Erin’s eyes when she’d confronted me. She had her own addictions, and even she thought I was repulsive. I could hear the water running and the soft clattering sound of the pills hitting the base of the sink.

Danny reemerged and leaned back against the door as he shut it. “It’s been taken care of,” he said with a sly smile, as if we were accomplices in something.

I grinned weakly back at him. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Are you ready to sleep?” His hand hovered above the light switch.

I glanced down at my leggings and sweatshirt. “Yeah.”

He turned off the light and itched at the collar of his shirt before lying back on his pile of blankets. He wasn’t used to wearing a shirt to sleep in. I recalled his bare chest against my skin those nights in the dead of winter. My breath caught in my throat as I leaned back on the bed, pulling the blankets over my legs and up to my waist. I turned on my side and squinted through the dark, watching as Danny settled onto his side facing me, two pillows piled under his head. His shirt clung to his biceps.