The Closer You Come (The Original Heartbreakers, #1)(12)

She’d represented the future. Stability. And unlike most of the foster families he’d lived with, he’d wanted her to stick.

“Want a beer?” Beck asked West.

They were congregated in the game room, their sanctuary. Beck and Jase were playing pool, while West watched. Or, more accurately, thought about something; the guy had been lost in his head for the past half hour.

“No,” West finally replied, and Beck breathed a sigh of relief.

Jase observed the entire exchange with a frown. Beck had been testing West’s resolve to remain sober more and more lately, and he couldn’t figure out why. But then, the two had a history he knew nothing about. So many years’ worth of memories made without him.

He never had a problem convincing himself he was fine with it—until moments like this.

“You aren’t an alcoholic, West,” Jase pointed out.

“But I am a recovering drug addict,” West said. “Alcohol is my gateway.”

West had gotten high for the first time nine years ago, and he’d stayed high for the next three.

Dark eyes grim...haunted, his friend admitted, “I wasn’t even feeling the temptation...until recently.”

“What changed?” Jase asked.

“What else? The time of year.”

Lightbulb. The oncoming anniversary of Tessa’s death.

Tessa had been West’s first and only girlfriend. The two had met mere days after Jase first encountered West and Beck. She’d lived down the street, and while Jase and Beck had grown to love her like a sister, West...he had grown to love her intimately, desperately. The pair had been halves that depended on each other, rather than wholes that complemented each other, and West had never recovered from her loss.

I’m never going to end up like that.

Brook Lynn’s image drifted through his head, taunting him. He gripped the edge of the table, nearly snapping the wood.

Tessa had dropped out of high school her senior year to waitress full-time and help her mom pay bills. Later, though, she’d passed her GED exam. Her deadbeat mom hadn’t cared enough to celebrate, so West had promised to throw her a party. He’d toked up instead. She’d left the apartment they’d all shared with a sad smile, saying it didn’t matter. But afterward Beck confessed he’d seen her crying as she’d driven away.

That night, she’d crashed her car into a lamppost.

Sweet, beautiful Tessa had died at the age of nineteen.

“I get it. The anniversary of Tessa’s death is three months away,” Jase said. According to some of the tales Beck had told him, West spiraled more and more, drinking, flaking on clients, even picking fights. Soon after, he picked a woman, showered her with affection and gifts and ended things in exactly two months, as if he was willing to give happiness a shot because it was what Tessa would have wanted, but he didn’t feel he deserved more than a taste.

“Yes,” West responded, head bowed, “and I’ll be fine this time. I will. I’m not going to limit what you can do because of a weakness I have.”

“For a smart man, you can be really stupid.” Jase clasped him by the nape and stared him down. “We help each other. Every day. Every hour. Every minute. What makes you think I’d want anything to do with something that bothers you?”

“You’ve lost so much already.”

Yes. More than either man knew. Jase had shared only a few of the atrocities he’d suffered—and committed—during the years of their separation. He could barely stand to think of them. “So have you,” he said. “A scholarship to MIT, and soon after that, Tessa.”

Pain flashed in dark eyes that had already witnessed the worst the world had to offer.

“You’ve been clean six years,” Jase said. “During that time, you’ve created and sold different computer programs and games I won’t pretend to understand, and you’ve made us richer than we ever dreamed by investing the profits for us. Cut yourself some slack.”

“Put that way, I am pretty awesome,” West said, the barest hint of a smile revealed.

“Though only a close second to me,” Beck said, thumping his chest like a gorilla.

The doorbell rang before Jase could pop them both in the back of the head.

Everyone displayed different variations of dread.

“Bet it’s one of Beck’s women, coming to request seconds,” West said.

Beck lined up his shot. “Too bad. The candy store is currently closed.”

West snorted. “If only it stayed closed for maintenance. These women are upsetting my schedule.”

Jase had noticed West’s time-management and schedule-building skills had only gotten sharper over the years, though he’d done his best to relax and pretend he could roll with spontaneity. In reality, he’d always lived by a regime, preferring to have every minute planned.

Another round of ringing echoed from the walls.

“Don’t everyone rush to the door at once,” Jase said.

Beck peered at West. “Do me a solid and get rid of her.”

“Happy to, but you’ll owe me.” West strode from the room.

“Like that’s anything new,” Beck called. The amused vibe vanished in a blink. He tossed Jase a look rife with concern. “He’ll come through this, but it’s going to be hard. I’m glad you’re here. It’s been rough going it alone with him these past few years.”