Speakeasy (True North #5)(65)

“You read my texts!” I squeak.

“Here we go,” Audrey mumbles.

“Selena is a dude!” Daphne squeals. “No way!”

“Oh, noooo.” Griff groans. “Selena’s not even real?”

“Duh,” Audrey whispers.

Alec doesn’t hear any of that. He picks up my good hand off the blanket, making another low sound of pain. “I’m so sorry. I did everything wrong. Everything.”

“No, you didn’t,” I try to say, but my throat is strangely tight. And Alec’s face is full of remorse. He sits down on the edge of the bed. His other hand hovers in the air near my face. But he’s not certain where to touch me, which really only confirms that I look like I’m near death.

And then his eyes tear up.

“Okay, what if we all gave them some space?” Audrey suggests.

“Good idea,” my mother agrees.

“Not happening,” Griff grunts. “If there’s no Selena, that means Alec has been…?” He groans. “That is just wrong.”

Audrey tows him toward the door. “You can complain to me about it in the hall.”

Everyone shuffles out except for Alec, whose eyes are wet. “I’m so sorry,” he says in a hoarse whisper. “You were angry, and I didn’t handle it right. I never should have sent those texts.”

“Yeah, well. There’s a reason it’s not illegal to send a text to someone who’s driving. Nobody made me read them. And I’m sorry I stormed out.”

“Listen,” he says, wiping his eyes. “About what Smitty said—it isn’t the least bit true that I was with you to make Griffin jealous. That’s just a lie.”

I look up into his big brown eyes, and I can tell he’s sincere. In fact, the liar in this room is me, not him. “I get it. He only made me doubt you for a minute. Because we are such a weird couple.”

“I know.” He kisses my good hand. “The weirdest. But I don’t care. You snuck up on me, and I’ve got it bad.”

That should make me happy, but it makes me cold inside, because I know how easy it would be for me to screw it all up. “You’re not part of my life plan, though. I’m not supposed to end up with a guy, let alone a bar owner.”

He shakes his head. “You say that. But we spend a lot of quality time together that’s nowhere near a bar. So explain it to me again, okay? I’m not that smart, so go slow. Make me understand why I have to find some other job so I can be with you.”

Now there’s an alarming idea. “I’m not asking you to do that.”

“Didn’t say you were. But I need to understand. I mean—you don’t need to come to my bar, just like I never come to your law office. If I had, say, an allergy to case files, you would leave them at the office, right?”

“Alcoholism is not an allergy.”

“I know that, okay? It’s a goddamned metaphor.” He gives me a shaky smile, and the love in his eyes is killing me.

“I never talk about my drinking problem with you.”

“Maybe you should,” he says simply.

“I don’t want to.” The idea makes my throat feel tight. “With you, it’s fun to pretend that I’m not at all like Smitty. But I am so much like him. You just can’t see it.”

His smile fades, as I knew it would. “No you’re not.”

“Not at the moment,” I concede. “I’ve been doing great. But what would happen if you came home from work one night and I’m passed out on the couch? What if you tell me I need help, and I won’t go?”

His mouth opens and then shuts again. “I don’t know what I’d do. But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t figure it out. Or that I don’t want to. I’m not known for being a serious guy, May. But I’m serious about loving you.”

You say that now… I clear my throat. “I know you think so. But I haven’t been very honest with you. I used to drink to feel numb. I don’t do that anymore, but I still want to. Every day.”

He flinches, and it hurts me to see it. But it’s really time that he knew.

“A year ago, I rushed into a relationship with Daniela because I wanted to prove I could get on with my life…”

“But I’m not Daniela,” Alec says, stroking my hand.

“You’re not. But I’m still me. And that person has some things to figure out. Alone.”

“You say that. But it’s not your only choice.”

“I think it is.”

“No.” His expression is grim. “I love you. But if you don’t feel the same way then just say so.”

“I…” There is nothing more terrifying than hearing “I love you” from Alec. He has no idea what he’s even saying. “I can’t love anybody right now.” That way lies the abyss.

He drops his chin. I wait for him to argue. Or leave. But he does neither one. He just kisses my hand one more time.

And then the doctor walks in, at last. “Good morning Miss Shipley! I hear you were hoping to go home.”

It takes a second for me to unstick my throat and answer. “That’s right. If you could spring me from this joint, I’d be grateful.”