CHAPTER 81
LUKE
Prom night. The pinnacle of teenage dreams. The night everyone looked forward to–the night everyone was supposed to remember for the rest of their lives.
“What a fucking waste of my time,” I grumbled, hiding behind a goddamn pillar, bored out of my skull. At the same time, Tiffany hunted me like some over–enthusiastic predator to drag me onto the dance floor.
I took another swig from the flask, letting the whiskey burn its way down my throat, then tucked it away before someone saw it. I pulled at the tie to breathe better, and this fucking suit wasn’t helping either.
Josh leaned against the pillar next to me, his shoulders slumped, looking as defeated as ever. Laura hadn’t shown up, and Jess…well, I hadn’t expected her to come. At least, that’s what I told myself. But there was that tiny, nagging part of me that hoped she’d walk through those doors, look around, and find me.
Stupid.
“Fucking hell, this night sucks balls,” Josh muttered, his words slightly slurred. He glanced over at me, his eyes bleary but determined, as if he’d reached some kind of epiphany. He grabbed my shoulder, his grip surprisingly strong, and turned me to face him. “You know, man–I don’t want you to feel like
CHAPTER 81
this. If you love her, go get her. I sure as hell tried–failed–but at least I tried.”
I stared at him, trying to process his words. Love? Why the fuck was Josh talking about Love? Did he love Laura?
Do I love Jess?
I almost snorted at the idea. He said it like it was simple.
If I start something with Jess, all I will be doing in reality is setting off a ticking time bomb, waiting to blow up both our lives. A wouldn’t do that to her.
“You know I can’t, man.” My voice was low. “I’m bad for her. Look at my father–what if…”
Josh cut me off, his expression turning serious as he stared me down, his eyes sharp despite the alcohol. “You will never be your father.”
I appreciated Josh saying that, but I was his son, wasn’t I? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I’m destined to be just like him, to ruin everything I touched. Hell, I’ve already done that.
Since when was Josh the soft, love–wins, happy–ending type of guy? I took the flask away from him, “Okay, no more whisky for you. You sound like a teenage girl, Love conquers all bullshit.” I joked, trying to get rid of the tension.
I wanted to believe I wasn’t doomed to repeat my father’s mistakes. But the fear was always there, lurking in the back of my mind, whispering that I wasn’t good enough for her. That I’d only end up hurting her.
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