Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(134)

“He’s not.” Wyatt pulls Delilah away from the door and tucks her underneath his arm.

His chin tips in my direction. “You’re back.”

“Yup.” I pop the p.

His left brow rises. “Permanently?”

“So long as Lana wants me to be.”

Delilah frowns. “Are you sober?”

I flash my chip in front of her. Wyatt’s eyes narrow at the chip before he looks down at Delilah. “Can you give us a minute?”

She rises on the tips of her toes and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “Fine.”

Wyatt smacks her ass as she walks away, earning himself a half-hearted glare from over her shoulder.

“Want to take a walk?” He motions outside.

“Sure.” I tuck my hands into my pockets and step off the porch.

“How was rehab?”

“About as good as I remember.”

He snorts a laugh. “Liar.”

“It was torture, but I’m glad I did it.”

He claps me on the shoulder. “Hopefully it sticks this time.”

“I was hoping…” My voice drifts off, the courage I had from earlier evaporating.

“I’d be your sponsor?”

“If the offer still stands, that is.”

He looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “Depends if you tell me why Lana is upset with you for leaving.”

My brows rise. “Did she say something?”

Not that I would blame her if she did.

“No, and Dee has been tight-lipped about it any time I ask.”

Damn. “She has?”

“Yes. And since I didn’t want to put Dee in a position to choose between me or her friends, I didn’t bug her about it.”

I suck in a breath. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated enough to drive you to drink?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m finding other ways to cope.”

“Like?”

“Well, I wasn’t allowed to build a boat in rehab because they were afraid I would get high off the glue or something, so I read. A lot.”

He rears back. “Wait. You can read?”

I give him a shove with my shoulder, which knocks him off-balance. He laughs, which only makes me break out into a chuckle too.

“What book did you like most?”

“Catcher in the Rye.”

His rubs his jaw. “I don’t feel like I appreciated that book as much as I should have when I read it in high school. Maybe I should give it a reread now that I’m an adult with more life experience.”

“Definitely. I think it’s a new favorite of mine.”

“What did you relate to most?”

“It’s hard to pick a particular theme, but maybe that I need to care about myself before prioritizing others.”

He nods. “And how’s that going?”

“Falling in love with yourself is ten times harder than falling in love with someone else, especially when I don’t like myself very much.”

“You’ll get there.”

“Did you used to feel that way?” I ask.

His gaze flickers across my face. “All the time.”

“How did you get past it?”

“By becoming someone I was proud of.”

We continue walking in silence. Delilah and Wyatt don’t live on the lake like we do, but their neighborhood is quaint and quiet, which makes it easy for me to get lost in my thoughts.

I’m not sure how long we walk for, but my calves are burning by the time we arrive back at their house. I’ve never had a sponsor before, so I’m not sure what to expect of the process, but a quiet walk wasn’t the first idea I had in mind.

Yet I feel more at peace than ever.

“See you tomorrow at AA?” Wyatt tucks his hands into his athletic shorts.

“Absolutely.”





54





ALANA





A knock on the door pulls me away from the show I was watching. I rise on to the tips of my toes and look through the peephole.

Oh God.

My hand trembles as I go to open the door. Cal doesn’t give me a chance to take him in as he lifts me off my feet, knocking the air out of my lungs.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” His arms wrapped around me tremble.

My heart clenches. I push against his chest, needing space to think.

“Just give me one more second.”

“One.” I tap on his shoulder.

He sighs as he puts me down on my feet, making sure to take his sweet time. “Sorry for that. I just got ahead of myself after spending the last thirty-seven days dreaming of coming home.”

Home.

Whatever control I had over my emotions unravels like a flimsy bow. I place a shaky hand against his cheek, and he leans into it.

“I’m proud of you for getting sober. Even if it was just for—”

He cuts me off. “Me. It was for me.”

I release a shaky breath. It’s not that I don’t want to believe what he says, but I’ve been burned too many times by him to do anything but doubt him.

He pulls something out of his pocket. “I wanted to bring you this.” He holds out a single chip. The slight tremor of his palm makes my chest tighten. “I know it’s not much, but I plan on earning every single one for the three of us.”