Wasted Time (The Steel City #1)

39. Penny

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

penny

Festive music is blaring through the speakers at an almost irritating volume. The Christmas cheer is oozing through the atmosphere and leaking out the windows. Paulie Garmuck’s parents are probably cursing our names as they scout who comes and goes from their window.

I'm happy here. It’s comfortable and warm in that way that love tends to be. I should be at ease after so many holidays spent rushing to and from both versions of my home. From Gavin to my friends, always on a tight schedule so that I could make everyone happy. This should be the first Christmas where I feel at peace.

Peace has never felt so out of reach.

I’ve been holding my breath for hours, waiting for reality to come crashing down. I’m waiting for him to walk into the room.

I’m still not ready for it when it happens. His unmistakable presence slithers through that bright red door, quietly, but with purpose. I feel it the moment he walks inside of the house, even with my back facing the hall, watching EJ take his turn with the quarter. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, warning me of what’s about to come.

He’s coming my way, and he’s not happy.

I don’t know how I know; I just do. I sense him all the time lately. His presence, his mood, his eyes. I haven’t even caught a glimpse of him yet, but I know the next few minutes have the power to sour the entire party and demolish the civility that we’ve been working so hard to force.

He’s late.

That isn’t like him.

He was supposed to be here almost two hours ago. Only Wyatt made a comment, checking his phone every fifteen minutes, worried that something had happened to him. Nobody else said a word. Not to me, anyway.

If Declan is late, something is holding him back. Something big. Something important. I don’t want to know what that something is. I have a feeling it might be me.

Nobody else seems to feel his looming presence though, not even when Declan storms down the hallway and walks straight into the room. He steps in between Tiffany and Lauren, who are sitting on the floor, attempting to pull apart a Christmas cracker while Lauren’s husband laughs at their struggle.

I force myself to look up at him. You know, trying to put on a brave face and all, but his attention is not on me. He forces a smile and nods at Wyatt, and when Wy raises his hand in greeting, Declan tosses a neatly wrapped gift into his lap.

Wyatt catches it, his dark eyes dipping down to examine it. When he looks up at his friend again, his smile slowly starts to dwindle.

It’s abundantly clear that Declan is not feeling as festive as the rest of us.

The room slowly goes quiet, but the music still plays its eerily happy melody. One by one, curious eyes slide from their own conversations to focus on the thunder cloud that just rolled in.

We aren’t looking at each other, but it doesn’t matter. We don’t have to be. The air is thick with a Declan and Penny storm, and it is about to hit the city. Our friends have been waiting for it and we have been expecting it.

Declan turns to me. His dark hair messy and hidden underneath a ballcap. Hazel eyes tired but full of fire. Dimples, nonexistent. He points at me. One finger in my direction. Though he’s feet away from me, it feels like that finger is being pointed directly in my face.

Everything stops in my head.

I can no longer hear the music. It’s like a record scratched in the middle of the song. I can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes as their stares slowly drift from Declan to me. We all know that this is the tipping point. The eggshells we’ve been stepping on have been stomped to utter dust.

There’s nothing left to tiptoe around.

The muscle in his jaw pulses. “You. Outside. Now.”

The air sizzles and burns out in my ears. My knee-jerk reaction is to be infuriated that he believes he has the authority to give me orders, but that feeling is squashed by a tidal wave of nerves so potent that I feel sick.

I don’t want to do this.

But he’s had enough. It was going to happen at some point. One of us had to break. One of us had to force a conversation. Unfortunately, I’m not the only person involved in this disaster, and I can’t control when or where this whole mess we’ve made goes to hell, even if I try to.

Everyone’s watching me. Waiting. It’s my move.

They probably would have gawked at Declan too, to be fair, if he’d given them the chance to. The second that order left his mouth, he turned on his heel and walked right out of the party as quickly as he’d come, his shoulders tight and boots on fire.

I refuse to meet anyone’s eyes. Heat climbs up my neck and stains my cheeks.

I'm terrified to be alone with him. I don’t want to face this. I don’t see a way in which this ends well and I'm just not ready for the grand finale.

Oh god, I am not ready.

I look to the only person who has ever had the power to ground me.

Avery is sitting between my legs on the floor. She is already looking up at me, hand wrapped around my ankle with a loose grip. Her dark eyes are a calmness that I desperately need. One eye is hidden by the pompom on the tip of her Santa hat, but still, she gives me all the strength that I need in that one look.

I know what I should do. I think everyone in this room does. But, for some reason, I’m glued to the spot. I don’t want to do what I should do. That seems to be my problem, doesn’t it?

“Go on,” she whispers, forcing a tight smile. She pats my foot three times with such gentleness that my throat swells.

I guess it’s time.

Sighing, I down the rest of my glass of wine, handing it to her. One glass isn’t enough to prepare me for this, but I doubt Declan would be happy to be kept waiting.

The front door hangs open just a crack. He hadn’t even shut it on his way out. What would he have done if I hadn’t followed him, or if I had taken the time to finish the crisp bottle of white that I left on the table? A part of me wants to go back inside and see. The easiest way out of this is to keep pissing him off until he wants nothing to do with me.

It’s the cowardly thing to do. It’s what I’ve been doing and look where that led me .

I tug my boots on and slip on someone else’s coat from the rack by the door. It’s big and heavy, and ten sizes too big for me, but it’s winter in Canada and this conversation is already going to be ice cold. Better safe than sorry.

Stepping outside and into the falling snow, I gently shut the door behind me, peering out onto the dimly lit street.

Declan is standing by his Range Rover, pacing under the streetlights. White flakes scatter through his dark hair and onto the shoulders of his dress coat. He keeps his head down, digging his toes into the hardened snow with each step, hands buried in his pockets.

I force my shoulders back and make my way down the steps. When the packed snow on the street crunches under my boots, Declan turns to me, his fingers brushing over his lips. Those hazel eyes meet mine and do not let go.

That look melts something inside of me. It brings up a scary emotion that I’d rather keep buried.

I feel every inch of his stare. I hear all the implications of it without him saying a word. There is so much anger, so much resentment, and so much hurt between us. It drips from him, stabbing me in the already dead and beatless heart.

I stop a safe distance away from him and I wait.

It appears Declan has the same idea.

A couple of seconds of silence pass between us. Neither of us look away, but we don’t move either. Neither of us speak. I don’t know what to say. I’m not sure I have anything to say. Things have only gotten worse, and it feels like we’ve dug ourselves a hole that we’re now too far deep in, and we forgot the ladder up at the top.

We can’t come back from what we’ve done.

The longer the silence spreads, the worse this feels. I have to really look at him and I hate looking at him. His hair has gotten longer. I can see it underneath his ball cap. It reaches the bottom of his neck now, and it’s thick and wavy, and suits him. Those dark, long eyelashes have fresh flakes of snow hanging from them and I want nothing more than to reach up and brush them away.

God, his lips. They remind me of cherry coke in this cold. I can almost taste the Chapstick he put on, preparing that mouth to yell at me instead of doing what I wish he would.

And just like that I’m falling down the rabbit hole. I’m remembering. I’m wanting. I’m suffocating and drowning, and I’m begging and wishing, all without saying a single word.

“This stops tonight.”

I blink, taken back by the sudden interruption of his voice.

“What?”

His brow furrows. “I’m done making everyone else uncomfortable. If that’s what you enjoy, fine, but I’m not putting our friends through that anymore.”

“I don’t…” I sigh, burying my hands in the pockets of the borrowed coat. “I don’t particularly enjoy that either.”

“You could have fooled me,” he scoffs.

Excuse me?

“What is that supposed to mean?”

The guard around my heart is slowly being reconstructed. Brick by brick, with each passing second and each word that he spews at me, he is rebuilding the layer of protection he had taken the time to tear down the night that everything changed. This time, it’ll be impenetrable. This time, I won’t let him back in.

“It means that you’re the one putting on a show here, Penny.” He drops his hand, glaring at me.

He looks tired.

I feel tired.

“And how did you reach that conclusion?”

My temper is rising, and there’s really nothing I can do to stop it besides walking away.

He won’t let me walk away. I know him.

That anger that I harbored for him has not drained away. It has sat and simmered, waiting for him to reappear to unleash itself.

I think somewhere along the line, I got hurt, and some unhealed part of me couldn’t handle being hurt that deeply again. I hurt him back because that was easier than acknowledging difficult truths, than doing the work on myself and for myself.

Declan isn’t the problem, he’s the fallout. He’s my fallout.

“You try to act like nothing's wrong, but the second I walk in the room, you tense up and get quiet. You avoid me. You put as much distance between us as possible. I get that I’m no better. I just ignore you and try to enjoy myself, but you are the one who chose for it to be this way. Not me.”

Ding, ding, ding. Round three.

“ I did?” I seethe. I step forward, but Declan does not move. He buries his hands in his pockets and stares at me, expressionless. “ You told Seth that I wasn’t welcome in Pittsburgh.”

There it is. The cold, ugly truth. I throw it between us and let him address it head on. That had gutted me. It was a knife to the chest, torn down to my guts. He knew what that week meant. He knew what we had been doing. Angry at each other or not, that was the only olive branch that I was capable of extending at the time.

And he still said no.

I understand that I didn’t deserve it. I had done some shitty things and had not handled what happened the way I should have. But, if the roles had been reversed, I would have welcomed him, wouldn’t I? I wouldn’t have forgiven him, but I would have been there.

Declan’s jaw tenses. A flash of pain washes over his face, but it’s gone just as quickly.

Ah. So, he hadn’t expected his best friend to tell me what he really said that night.

“I didn’t say you weren’t welcome,” he grumbles.

I clench my teeth. “It was implied.”

He thinks about that for a moment. He pulls his hand out of his pocket and scratches his chin, removing some of the snowflakes from his beard.

He drops both his gaze and his hand in the same, long breath. “I wasn’t ready to see you.”

I stare at him, my heart hammering in my chest. I can’t figure out what I’m feeling. I’m so angry, all the time, and a lot of it is aimed at Declan, but he doesn’t necessarily deserve the full weight of it. I’m sad. I’m deeply sad to the point where sometimes it just hurts . Not anything. Everything .

When it all got heavy, Declan had removed the weight. When I needed that again, he turned me away. The logical part of my brain knows that he couldn’t possibly read my mind, but my pride had been hurt. I resented him for the thoughts I did not voice. It isn’t fair, but I reacted out of pain. I kept expecting him to show up for me when I gave him no reason to.

“You left me in bed, Pen. You left me in bed, and then you ignored me like I was some random idiot from a bar that you stumbled home with. I was worried about you. I care about you. I was also vulnerable that night. I didn’t feel great waking up to an empty hotel room.”

I blink, averting my eyes to the ground. I kick the snow with the toe of my boot, shame crawling up my shoulders.

“I knew it was a mistake,” I mumble, feeling that familiar lump of emotion in my throat.

It shouldn’t have happened. None of it. I should have turned around the second he opened that damn red door and cradled my face in his hands. I should have run. I should have pushed past him and gone to my best friend instead.

I should have done every single thing differently.

I don’t look up, but I feel Declan go rigid.

“ What was a mistake?” he asks calmly, but there’s an edge to his tone.

I peer up at him through my lashes. I’m sure my cheeks are hot, and I look as embarrassed as I feel, but it’s time to lay it all out there.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

His scowl deepens. He takes a slow step forward, his eyes burning into my face.

“What was a mistake, Penny? Asking to come see me in Pittsburgh or sleeping with me?”

I look away again, but Declan’s control snaps. He reaches forward faster than I can clock and wraps his fingers around my chin, forcing my gaze back to his.

My eyes burn with humiliation as I glare at him, but I don’t pull away.

We study each other for a moment, desperately trying to understand one another. Failing to, yet again.

There’s one, tense beat of silence, blue and hazel burning into each other, and then Declan is swearing under his breath and forcing me backward until my back hits the side of his vehicle. My face is still in his tight grip.

He lowers his head until we’re eye level.

“I don’t regret fucking you,” he says quietly, his voice thick and gravelly. “I don’t regret a single second of showing you how you deserve to be treated. I remember everything , Penny. I remember the sounds you make when you finish, and every single spot on your body that made your back arch. It’s imbedded in my fucking memory, and I don’t regret it . Alright?”

I swallow, frozen under his touch and under the weight of his words. I don’t know when I reached for the lapels of his dress coat, but my hands clutch them in a death grip, not ready for him to pull away.

“ That’s why I didn’t want you in Pittsburgh.” His eyes flicker to my lips and linger. It takes a second, but he finally forces his gaze back to mine. “Because you got into my head and then you hurt me. The game is my job. It’s my life. If I knew you were there, I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate. I wouldn’t have been able to think about anything besides how good you felt, and how bad you fucking stung me. I gave you the power to ruin me and you did.”

That one hits home. I flinch, my stomach falling to my toes.

I hurt him? I got into his head? Those were the last things I expected to hear from Declan. It’s Declan. He has a new ‘girlfriend’ every month. He’s been my friend for a decade. He’s held my hair while I’ve puked. Multiple times. He’s fed me the hardest of truths. I’ve screamed at him and locked him out of my parties for bringing two dates to my house and not expecting a fight to start.

He’s Declan .

He’s immoveable and sturdy and no matter what, he’s always there.

He’s history.

I didn’t think leaving him in that hotel room would hurt him this badly. I thought not telling me about Avery hurt worse, but I could have let that go.

Eventually, I would have let it go.

He can’t let go of how I treated him. That’s my fault. I can’t let go of how he made me feel that night, and what that could have meant, and that is also my fault.

Instead of being open with him, my instinct is to avoid the real reason I left. It has been my instinct since I crawled out of that hotel room. It’s easier to bubble wrap truth and pretend that it’s something else buried at the center of it. That’s how I survive.

He’s so close that I just need to lean forward an inch. One, tiny inch and I could have his lips on mine again. That’s something that can’t happen. Once is a mistake. Twice is an atomic bomb.

“You didn’t tell me about Avery.”

He blinks, genuinely confused. “What?”

“I woke up and saw that she was engaged on social media. You didn’t let me check my phone and you didn’t tell me.”

Declan lets out a long breath, shaking his head. “That was for your own good.”

“I should have been there.”

“ I’m not the one who didn’t invite you,” he says, dropping his hand from my chin. He doesn’t move to step back from me, but his eyes search my face. “Fine. I didn’t tell you that Avery was engaged.”

He says it like a fact, so I don’t know how to respond. His stare is a force against my fortress, wearing me down, breaking my shields. He knows there is more and he’s not going to relent until he gets it.

I can’t give it.

I want to, but I can’t.

He slams his hand onto the Range Rover, his palm smacking the metal right beside my head.

“Would it have helped ? ” he seethes. “Would telling you have made this end any differently? It wouldn’t have, P. We both know you still would have run because it’s what you do, just like you ran home with your tail between your legs the second that idiot broke your heart.”

No.

Please stop.

Please don’t make me ruin this worse than I have .

Blood rushes in my ears. Pain slices through me again like a knife to the chest, being twisted and pushed in deeper and deeper. My eyes prickle, wounded by the blade of his words for the hundredth time.

My god, I wish I could hate him.

The regret on his face is instant, but it’s too late. He’s said too much. He’s said the wrong thing. He does what he always does.

So, I do the only thing that I know how to, what he claims I’m so good at. I burn everything to the ground, and I run.

“Don’t go apologizing for the low-blows now. They seem to be a habit,” I seethe, and then I place my hands on his chest and push .

I need distance. I need him away from me.

He must not have been expecting it, because Declan stumbles backward and nearly falls when his foot hits a patch of ice. He quickly corrects himself, but I’m still stalking forward. I shove him roughly again, my hands slamming against the chest where his heart still beats, whole and intact.

“You did the same thing the morning after, remember? Using something I told you at my most vulnerable as a dig at me?”

His face flashes with confusion. He doesn’t remember. He never seems to remember the pain he inflicts. It doesn’t matter. He said it.

So, I do stupid things to hurt him. He says stupid things to hurt me. This isn’t a one-way street. I’m not the only villain.

“Why don’t I just fill up your catalog of things to use against me? Is that what you want? You want to know why I ran, Declan? I didn’t want to wake up and have you look at me the same way he did !”

I’m shouting now, still shoving him with each step. I can’t breathe. The words are getting harder and harder to get out, but my fury is unstoppable.

Declan’s face falls with each word. Tears slide down my cheeks as I push him again. When did I start crying? I choke on nothing but my own breath and admissions. I’m scared they’ll suffocate me.

He grabs my wrists and yanks them to his chest, holding me tightly, making it so I’m unable to push him any further into the road, but I still try. I fight him. I fight against him.

It’s the only thing I know how to do.

He underestimates me, slightly loosening his grip. I shove against his restraints a little harder and he stumbles backward, but he keeps his hold on my arms. I push and I shove him away from all the important parts of me that he has touched.

His eyes are wide as they scan my face. I’m not sure what he expected. He wanted this fight tonight. He came to say his part and he did.

Well, it’s my turn.

“I was in pieces, Declan! I couldn’t breathe! I couldn’t think! I was out of my mind and then I knocked on that door and you came along, and I was miraculously okay .”

I move to shove him again, but he only holds me tighter. He’s looking at me like he’s never seen me before, but there’s an unmistakable look of pain on his face that makes this whole thing feel even worse.

I don’t want him to feel bad for me. I want him to get it.

“The worst thing that could have happened was for you to roll over and regret it,” I shove again, but this time I slip on an icy piece of pavement and nearly buckle.

Declan is quick to hold me upright by my elbow, which gives me the leverage to slam my hands on his chest again and so I push .

“It would have killed me! Okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

My throat is raw, my voice tightening with each word. All these secrets that I’ve kept buried, all the pain, it’s his now.

He stumbles back a step, letting go of me completely. I take a furious step forward and he holds up his hands, now a safe distance away, showing me that he has no weapons left to aim at my chest.

But we’re still at war.

I let out a pained cry that I wish I kept in. I hurriedly wipe my cheeks. I hate that I let myself get this worked up. That I let him see it.

After a quiet moment, he dares to take a slow step back in my direction, ready to endure every missile that I aim his way now that he’s out of ammo.

“Lucky…”

“I needed time , Declan!” I’m screaming so loud that my throat feels like it’s bleeding. “I wasn’t ready for any of it! I just needed a second to breathe and deal with all my baggage! I was drowning! I shouldn’t have been sleeping with you when I didn’t even know where I’d live in the next two weeks! I hadn’t even pieced myself back together yet! I just needed time !”

Declan’s eyes never leave mine. They’re soft, and wide, and full of the type of pain that matches what I feel in my chest.

I’m surprised when I feel a soft hand on my shoulder.

I jump, whirling around. I nearly smack right into Wyatt, who is a brute force behind me. He’s staring over my head at Declan, a warning in his eyes.

Oh, great. We have an audience.

I shut my eyes, regret pouring through me.

Well. Secret is out.

Avery is standing just feet behind him, rubbing her arms to beat the winter chill. Her mouth is hanging open, eyes wide and locked on Declan. Her bottom lip wobbles, caught between shock and something much more painful.

Seth, who is beside her, wearily takes a step forward. But he stops, just hovering there, some place between his business and ours.

Everyone seems unsure of what to do, of who to go to.

EJ is leaning against the back of Declan’s Range Rover in only a T-shirt, eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline. He chokes out a shocked laugh, glancing around at the crew.

Avery shoots him a look that has his mouth snapping shut immediately.

“ Lucky ,” Declan tries again softly, ignoring Wyatt’s presence at my back. It sounds like a plea, one that I can’t give into.

“I just wanted to watch you play , Declan,” I say quietly, dropping my arms. Wyatt’s arm snakes around my collarbone, gently pulling me to his chest. I grip his forearm, but my eyes are locked on Declan. “To try and fix this. I lost everything. I wasn’t ready to lose you, too. I just needed time. I couldn’t lose you.”

“Okay.” I hear Wyatt’s smooth voice in my ear. “That’s enough, Pen. Let’s get you inside.”

“I’m not going inside,” I say. I turn to look at him over my shoulder. His dark eyes are full of worry—for me. “I… I can’t go back in there.”

“Yes, you can,” he says. He smooths a hand over my hair, turning me in his arms. “It’s all family in there. Nobody cares about a little fight.”

Little? This feels earth shattering.

I’m finding it a bit hard to breathe. All the adrenaline is wearing off and I am floored with an indescribable pain. I don’t want to go back to Christmas music, cocktails, and fake, tense smiles. The charade is over.

“Let me talk to her for a second.” Declan is almost begging.

I shut my eyes at the sound of his voice. Wyatt has one arm around my back, but he holds the other up to stop Declan from getting too close. He gives his head a stern shake.

“I love you, bro, but you’ve talked enough for the night.”

“Just come inside, Dec,” Seth suggests gently from the curb.

“I’m not going anywhere until I finish this conversation,” Declan bites back.

“I want to go home,” I whisper. I reach forward, winding my arms around Wyatt’s middle. His eyes flicker down to mine. “Please.”

He nods, giving me a soft squeeze. “Okay, Pen. Okay.”

“Penny,” Declan tries one more time.

“D.” It’s EJ this time. Wyatt is already leading me away, arm wound around my shoulders protectively. EJ is still leaning against the Range Rover. He shakes his head. “Enough, buddy.”

His gaze slides to me when I pass, and I hesitate. “Your jacket.”

EJ shakes his head, smiling tightly. “Ah, don’t worry about it. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

I nod, and Wyatt leads me toward his truck, right past Avery.

Those brown eyes are full of tears, no crinkles at the sides. She is shaking, watching me choose to run away from this with someone who isn’t her. I think I might have broken her heart a bit, too. I didn’t mean to do that. I want to tell her that.

But I didn’t tell her. I didn’t tell her anything. This is a big secret to hold back. I was in pain, and I didn’t go to her. There’s not a single thing that I hide from Avery. Only this. I can imagine how confused and betrayed she feels after hearing all of that in the way it just unfolded.

I’m a bad friend.

I shrug off my borrowed jacket and pass it to her. EJ said to keep it, but I’m scared none of them will be talking to me by tomorrow. She takes it without a word, eyes glued to my face. So many questions dance in those eyes.

My gaze flickers to Seth, who looks torn right down the middle. I know then, at that moment, that he knew everything. I’m not sure for how long, but there is not one part of this conversation that has surprised him. He is going to have to explain that to his fiancé, because she is going to blow a gasket when she finds out.

Right now, I can’t talk to any of them. Not Declan. Not Avery. Nobody who will be even more upset with me than I am with myself.

Wyatt opens his passenger door for me. He takes my hand and helps me inside of the old, blue truck. I say nothing as the tears stream down my face. He doesn’t even pause before he reaches across me and clicks my seatbelt into place. He gives my thigh one comforting pat.

He shuts the door without a word.

As we pull away from the curb, I avert my eyes, but I have already seen the picture before us. It’s like time stopped. Declan is standing in the middle of the road, staring at the truck as we pass. EJ, Seth, and Avery are all frozen, watching him like he’s a caged animal.

Our eyes meet for one more second. Hazel on blue.

I lower mine to the spotless floor of Wyatt’s truck.