Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Annie

I need to talk to Suzie.

I have to tell her what's going on. There's no way this is going to ever turn out okay if I don't put all my cards on the table and tell my best friend about the tension flowing between me, Lorcan, and Monte.

Ever since the road trip, there's been some kind of truce between Monte and me. Now we're doing this weird dance where we're circling each other, while I eye-fuck the crap out of both delicious men and berate myself for being the shittest friend in the whole wide world.

And it's not like I haven't had the opportunity to talk with her either. In between hitting the slopes with her dads, we've had numerous spa dates where Suzie insisted on couples' rooms so we could spend as much of the time together as possible. Yet each time I try to bring up the topic, an enormous ball of anxiety settles in my throat, choking me up. Instead, we gab about useless celebrity gossip, and books we're eager to read or we dream about creating magical installations with all our amazing masterpieces.

But no matter what excuses I come up with for not saying anything, for keeping this big secret from my friend, it doesn't sit well with me.

Pacing the cozy cabin bedroom, I can almost feel the weight of my secret longing pressing down on my shoulders. Outside, the cool winter morning is serene, with fresh snow blanketing the landscape and a loud wind rustling the trees. A quick glance at my phone shows the screen dark and silent.

I bite down on my bottom lip before running a hand through my messy hair. "Suck it up, Annie. Text her if you can't face her. Just tell her you like her dads."

My phone buzzes in my hand, shocking me out of my turmoiled thoughts, and I nearly drop it on the floor in shock.

It's my dad.

I don't have the spoons to deal with him or any of the poison he and my mom will more than likely spew my way, especially before I've even had my breakfast, so I swipe the call away and turn off my cell.

Knowing I can't be a coward about every hard thing in my life, I take a deep breath and head for the door connecting our rooms. It's almost time for us to go down for breakfast anyway, so we might as well get this day started on the right foot.

I knock before pushing on the open door and take a deep breath. "Hey, Suzie? You up?" I call out, blinking slowly waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting in her room. Worry fills me as I take in the lump under the covers of her bed.

Suzie is by no means an early riser, but she should have been up by now. Not wanting to shock her with the sudden bright light, I tip-toe to her bed in the dark. "Suze, honey," I whisper as I reach the side of her bed. "It's time to wake up."

She finally lets out a groan before turning over to face me. Her adorable face scrunches up into the most ferocious frown, and her nose turns bright red, resembling something from a cartoon or a badly shot movie.

"Oh shit. Suze. You do not look good." I lean across, put my hand across her forehead, and let out a surprised squeal at the heat emanating from her. "Fuck, honey, you're burning up. I'm phoning your dad."

Which one, though?

I dash back to my bedroom, digging for my cell, and tap my foot impatiently while I wait for it to start up again. Scrolling through my phone to find one of their numbers, I belatedly realize I could have probably reached them much faster if I'd just picked up the room phone next to Suzie's bed. Guess it's safe to say I'm no good in a crisis.

Lorcan's number comes up first, and I quickly push the button to connect the call.

"Hello?" Lorcan sounds confused at hearing from me, and I can't really blame him, because the only reason I have both their numbers on my phone is in case of emergencies.

"Hi! Lorcan. Shit. Sorry." I push down the panic in my voice and take a deep, steadying breath. It's just a fucking fever. "Sorry, can one of you please come to Suzie's room? She's running a fever and doesn't look too good."

He's quick to reassure me he's on his way, and once we cut the call, I am left with an overwhelming feeling of disappointment in myself.

I'm acting like some kid who doesn't know how to tie my shoelaces. It's not like I don't know what to do with someone who's ill. Suzie got a major chest infection within the first month we'd been living together. I'd nursed her back to health myself then. It kind of just feels like everything is too much. How much more am I supposed to take? When can I just let go and let someone else take over for a bit?

And now I sound like a selfish twat because I'm worried about myself when my best friend is lying in bed, all sick and icky.

Filling a glass with water, I give myself the pep talk I very clearly need before slipping back into Suzie's room. I flick open the lock so Lorcan can come straight in when he gets here and head to her bed.

"Honey, can you sit up and take a sip of this water for me?" I coax my friend after placing the tall glass down on the bedside table. With a fever, she's probably got a sore throat along with some scary chills.

She's not the most cooperative patient, but by the time both Lorcan and Monte make it into the bedroom, I have her sitting up and slowly taking small sips of the water.

"Oh, you poor, poor, baby," Lorcan coos to Suzie and I quickly slip out of the way, handing the glass to Monte as I move to the far corner of the room.

The two men quickly take over, checking on everything that needs checking on, and overall just fussing in the way a girl needs her parents to fuss over her. Watching Suzie with her dads leaves me with a nasty mess of feelings to try and sort through, so instead of sticking around in case they need me, I slip back into my bedroom, silently pushing the door shut.

I'm really glad that Suzie has someone to look out for her, especially right now, when it's obvious my head isn't in the game. She deserves it more than anyone I know. It's also a relief that the pressure won't be on me to be an adult right now.

But I'm also left with the big, green, dirty feeling inside the pit of my stomach. Why should she have that, and I can't?

I couldn't have it with Jackson. I couldn't have it with my own damn parents. And if my past track record is anything to go by, it doesn't look like I'll have anything like that in my future either.

Furiously wiping away the stubborn tears that push their way out, I storm to my bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth, and hide.

I'll be all adulty later.