Wasted Time (The Steel City #1)

12. Penny

CHAPTER TWELVE

penny

I knock on the door hurriedly, trying to force the emotion away so I can at least act composed for the initial greeting. This is piss-poor timing. How the hell could I forget about Friendsgiving? Avery invites me every single year, even though she knows I won’t be able to come every single time.

It’s an Avery party. So even though it’s nearing eleven, the party is still in full swing.

I’m bleeding out on her front step. Gavin left a big, open wound in the center of my chest and I’m all but drained of blood. The grief I feel is unexplainable. It feels like someone died. Someone who is very much still alive and who I kind of wish would actually die. It’d be easier that way.

Oh god, I’m going to throw up.

There is loud chatter on the other side of the door. Foolishly, I try the handle again, but it’s still locked. The bottom lock, too, so my code won’t even work. Who the hell locks a door when they’re having a party? I’m going to find out who was stupid enough to make that move and force-feed them the doorbell, which they’re also ignoring .

I knock again, three loud thumps of my fist. At the same time, I ring the doorbell. I’m two seconds away from losing my shit and I’d rather not do it in the middle of the street where Paulie Garmuck’s parents are spying out of their window.

A voice grows louder. A small bubble of relief sprouts in my chest. Heavy footsteps come toward the door, casually and slowly. Someone fiddles with the lock and the door flies open and…

Declan’s smile immediately vanishes when he sees me, mascara smudged down my cheeks, hair piled on my head, and a bottle of wine clenched tightly in my palm.

My heart cracks at the sight of him, remembering the conversation at The Swan Dive, remembering the distance that I put between us. Remembering why .

Of course he’s in town.

We haven’t spoken since. Not two words, apart from that text message.

He is the last person I wanted to open that door.

“Pen?”

That’s all it takes.

I shake my head and take a step back, a sob tearing through my throat. I almost turn to run. I probably would have if Declan hadn’t stepped onto the porch, closing the door to the party behind him. He reaches for my elbows before I can hightail it out of here and pulls me back onto the step.

My breathing quickens as his touch travels upward. Oh god, I’m going to have a panic attack in front of him. I’m going to fall apart in hands that I no longer trust.

Declan slowly cups my face in his palms, and as I crane my neck to avoid him, he gently guides my gaze back to him. I’m forced to either meet his eyes or shut my own.

I choose to shut my own .

“Penny, what the fuck is going on?” His voice is eerily calm, deep, and full of concern.

It kills me to hear that after all of this, he still worries about me.

I shake my head again, tears slipping down my cheeks. I’m pathetic. I’m pathetic and breaking down, and I really don’t want him to be the one to catch the pieces as they shatter.

Anyone else. Please, anyone else.

Declan’s thumbs brush the tears as they fall. He’s close. Even without opening my eyes, I can tell. I can smell his cologne, so very Declan. It’s like walking into a forest while holding a mug of peppermint tea. It’s oddly comforting, a small slice of home I had buried somewhere in the back of my mind.

I take in a deep breath. This one is easier.

“Does Avery know you’re here?”

I choke on a cry, finally prying my eyes open. I want to shut them again as soon as I see the fear written all over his face. He has that stupid ballcap on his head again, even backward I know it sports the Pittsburgh logo on the other side. He hasn’t shaved in a while, but his beard is still neat.

I focus on all his little details instead of the way I’m dying inside.

His eyes have never looked so amber.

They’ve never looked so terrified.

“No.”

“Do you… want me to go get her?” he asks softly, his hands sliding to the sides of my neck. His thumb brushes over my pulse.

Another breath. This one is even easier.

“You were right.”

Declan blinks, his brow furrowing. “What?”

Don’t make me spell it out to you. Please .

“About Gavin.”

His frown deepens before realization washes over his face. His thumb brushes against the side of my neck again, so sweet that it seems against his nature. He steps closer, eyes searching mine.

I see so much regret. About as much as I feel.

“What happened?” he bites out, his tone sharp.

He broke me. That’s what happened.

“He waited until I was home from work and told me that it was over,” I admit, and my breath leaves me as I relay those words for the first time aloud. It hurts. It fucking hurts . “Said he was never proud to point at me and say that I was his girlfriend. He said he didn’t think he was ever going to get to the point where he’d want to marry me.”

My voice breaks then. Reciting the list of strange, deep-cutting insults Gavin had spewed at me in a gentle voice. It’s painful. Doing it in front of someone who warned me this relationship was doomed? That feels even worse.

I can’t stop the word vomit. Why couldn’t I just say we broke up, like a normal person would?

Declan’s face has fallen to near expressionless, but there is a storm brewing in his eyes. There is a building rage that has appeared on the ice so many times that it is startling to see that expression here. On Avery’s front stoop. In front of the big, red door.

It takes him a moment to process my words. He glances back at the house, dropping his hands from my skin. I miss the comfort instantly.

He lets out a long breath, runs a hand over his mouth, and then nods toward the road.

“Get in the car.”

I blink, sniffling. Oh god, I need a tissue. “ What?”

“I haven’t had anything to drink yet. Get in the car. We’re going for a drive.”

“Where?” I blurt out.

I have to see Avery.

“This is the last place you want to be. Trust me,” he grumbles, sliding his arm around my shoulder. He fishes in the pocket of his joggers for his keys, pointing at his Range Rover down the road and unlocking it. “We’re going to get drunk.”

I glower as he guides me down the steps, risking a look up at him. “So that you can say that you told me so?”

His gaze cuts to me. “What?”

“Come on,” I grumble, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “You know you want to.”

He stares at me for a long second.

“No, Lucky,” he says with a sigh, guiding me around the decorative pots filled with dead plants that Avery cannot keep alive, even in the summer. “Out of all the things I want to say to you, that is the very dead last.”