Chapter One – Roxy
It’s been six months.
Twenty-six weeks. One hundred and eighty-two days. Two hundred and sixty-two thousand, nine hundred and seventy-four minutes. Or perhaps the most accurate; fifteen million, five hundred and fifty-two thousand seconds.
At least that’s how it feels. It feels like a short slice of forever since I last saw my brother, but I remember the moment he died like yesterday. It’s so clear, like I’m watching a movie play out in my mind. I remember the glare of headlights. The screech of the tires as the car swerved. My own ear-piercing scream as I watched it smash head on into a tree.
And the guilt. The guilt of not forcing him to get into Selena’s car instead of Stu’s. That’s almost as bad as the memory itself – knowing I could have prevented it if I hadn’t have let it go as easily as I always did.
Six months and it still hurts as much as it did then. I miss him as fiercely as I have every day since he died, and I know without a doubt whoever said time is a healer is a great big f**king liar. Nothing has healed; I haven’t healed. I’ve been broken, my heart ripped to pieces, alone in my grief and unable to explain to anyone how I feel.
So I don’t. I don’t explain, I don’t even try to, and I don’t feel. I block it out, knowing it exists but choosing not to acknowledge it.
If I didn’t, I’d lose whatever will is keeping me alive. I didn’t just lose my brother that night. I lost a part of my very soul.
The vodka burns my throat as it goes down. It settles into a warm pool in my belly, and I savor that feeling for a moment. It’ll be gone as quickly as it came, a fleeting spark of happiness. I eye the bottle, wondering if I can get away with another one before Selena finds me.
And she will. She’ll know exactly where I’ve disappeared to… To the place she can’t keep her eyes on me.
“How many have you had?”
I sigh. “Two.”
“Bullshit, Roxy.” My blonde-haired best friend steps in front of me, her hands on her hips. “How. Many?”
“Four,” I lie for the second time. “I promise.”
She scrutinizes me with her brown eyes, flicking them from my face to the bottle behind me. “Hmm. Okay.”
“Don’t you trust me, Leney?” I smirk.
Her eyebrow shoots up. “About as much as I trust my sister with my make-up bag.”
“Ouch.” I put a hand to my chest. “That hurts.”
Selena snorts. “Spare me your dramatics, Roxy. You know I trust you with everything but the crap you keep putting in your body.”
“It’s just vodka.”
“And the rest.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“If you think I didn’t see you sneaking off with Layla, you’re wrong.”
“Please.” I brush my hair back from my face and turn to pour a drink. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Look at me,” Selena demands.
“Are you f**king kidding me?” I slam the bottle down over the music.
“If you didn’t take anything, you’ll turn your ass around and look at me.”
Fuck me. “Fine.” I turn my face to her and look her in the eyes for a minute. “See? I didn’t take anything.” Tonight. Yet.
“Alright. I believe you. This time.” She sighs and takes the glass I offer her. “I just worry about you-”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all.” I take a drink. “You’re worried about my drinking, suspected drug use and relationships. My mom already gave me the grilling. Again.”
“Okay, as your best friend, you can hardly call what you have relationships.”
“No, you can.” My eyes scan the heaving room. “However short, they have all the ingredients. Attraction, want, and a mutual understanding of what’s expected. In this case, it’s nothing goes past one night. Hey – if they’re lucky, they might even get my name.”
Selena shakes her head, and I laugh.
“What? I might push the limits, but I’m always careful. I know I can get home safely if I’ve been drinking and I always use protection.”
“You’re a damn idiot, girl.”
“Probably. But at least I’m a sensible one.” I grin.
She runs her finger around the top of her glass. “Do you think he’d want to see you like this? Doing this to yourself?”
I freeze, every part of my body going cold. “I’m not doing anything to myself, and I’m sure as shit not talking about him tonight, Leney.”
I down the rest of my glass, the vodka stronger than the Red Bull, and push off from the table. My eyes fix on a broad-shouldered guy in the middle of the crowd, his short, light hair spiked up, and I move toward him, emotion rushing through my body.
Shit, Selena knows better than to mention my brother.
Someone grabs my hand, stopping me and spinning me round. I press up against a hard chest and look up.
“Olly.” My hand rests on his chest. “Can I help you?”
He looks down at my chest and back up. “Several ways.”
I slide my hand up his chest to his face, running my thumb along his jaw. He tilts his head down, his lips brushing across the pad of my thumb.
“Oh, sorry. You must have missed the rhetorical part of that question.” I smile sweetly, stepping back and breaking our contact. “Maybe some other time.”
“You’re a tease, Roxy Hughes.”
“Me? Never.” I glance over my shoulder and wink at him. I’ve barely taken five steps when I’m pulled into another chest. A very, very hard chest. My eyes flick upwards into a pair of bright blue ones I don’t recognize. Oh. That sure doesn’t happen often in Verity Point.
“Well, hello.” The words escape me.
“Hello,” he replies, his eyes skimming me appreciatively. “I’ve had the shittest night ever, so do me a favor and tell me you’re here alone.”
Okay, Mr. Terrible-Pick-Up line, usually you’d get your ass kicked down, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna walk away from someone this damn hot.
I run my eyes over his brown hair, his sharp features, his broad shoulders and toned biceps. “I was here alone.” I flick my hair over my shoulder and rest a hand on his waist. “Now I’m here with you. How does that sound?”
His lips curve to one side as his arm slides around my back, pulling me into him. “That sounds real good to me.”