Wasted Time (The Steel City #1)

44. Penny

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

penny

It takes me more courage than I can muster to get out of the car and walk up to Avery’s house on Christmas morning. Her and I have barely spoken since the dreadful secret Santa night. She texted me a couple of times to make sure that I’m okay. I’ve answered minimally. It was courteous, small check-ins. It wasn’t the Avery and Penny level of communication that I’m used to, even when we’re fighting.

I just can’t face her. I can’t explain it. I can’t face any of them. I’m embarrassed. I put them in the middle of this mess without any consideration how that might hurt them. I feel worse for keeping secrets, and for hurting Declan with one million little knives until he bled out in front of me.

What I feel worst about, though? The fact that he fled the country because of me. He won’t be at Christmas because of me. I did this.

These are his friends too. He only gets to come home when his schedule permits it. I moved back home. I see them almost every day now. His parents are here. They wait all year to have him home for Christmas. Now, he’s spending the holiday alone, and they’re spending it without their only child.

Because of me.

In the two days that I’ve hunkered down at Wyatt’s, I’ve decided with finality that I’m moving into EJ’s. Not because of the fight or the fallout, and not because I don’t know where Avery and I stand. It’s just time, you know?

EJ is super on board, which makes it a lot easier. He showed up at Wyatt’s when he learned that Declan left, store-bought cinnamon buns in hand. Laid in the bed with me, face-to-face. He didn’t ask questions, just told me he loves me. I asked him if I could move in after a few hours of rotting in that bed with him and Wyatt, eating my sorrows in pastries until my stomach hurt.

EJ smiled, shot me a wink, and promised to keep the toilet seat down. He seems excited that someone will be in the house when he’s away. I’m excited that he’ll still have me.

He’s already been by Avery’s and snuck a few things out of the house for me. He wants to build me a new bookshelf for my room, so he has been on a stealth mission to retrieve a couple at a time so that when it’s done, the shelves will be full.

I don’t want to break the news to Ave over Christmas, but I’ll have to let her know soon. I don’t like hurting her more than I have to. Even though she’s expecting it, I know it will sting. Salt in the wounds I’ve already sliced into her skin.

I think she’ll realize she needs some space once I give it to her.

Wyatt reaches across the console of his truck and takes my hand. “It’s going to be okay. You just have to rip off the bandage.”

“Declan isn’t here,” I remind him, my voice quiet.

I finally got what I wanted only to realize that it’s not what I wanted at all.

All that man has tried to do is make me feel better. That’s the only thing he’s guilty of. I refused to let him.

Wyatt smiles sadly. “I know.”

Well, I need to change the subject before I hate myself even more than I did five seconds ago.

“She’s going to stab me in the jugular,” I say, shifting in my seat. I look back toward her red door. At least she won’t have to put a fresh coat of paint on it when she splatters it with my blood.

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t think that’s the case.” He slaps my hand once more for good measure before throwing open the door to his truck. He’s halfway out when he turns back to me. “She’s just worried, Pen. Get your ass out of the truck.”

I sigh, offering a nod that I don’t fully believe in.

Wyatt waits for me on the curb, and I take my sweet time climbing out of the truck. He wraps his arm around me the second that I reach him, swinging the bag of food we brought over his shoulder.

We don’t do gifts apart from secret Santa, but oh boy—does our friend group do drinks and food.

He keeps me tucked in close until we reach the bright red door that suddenly seems like a very bad omen. I’m about to turn and run, admitting defeat and announcing my cowardice to the world, but Wyatt lifts his fist and knocks twice before I can.

I startle, heart hammering in my chest. He steps in front of my body as if he’s a barrier between myself and my fears. I’m not even sure that he does it consciously.

It does nothing to make me feel less nervous. I hold my breath, my leg shaking with anticipation. The door opens, but I can’t see anything past Wyatt’s back .

“Merry Christmas!” he says, with a bit too much jolliness. He opens his arms wide.

There’s barely a pause. “Move.”

It’s a demand. An order. He’d be foolish not to listen.

Wyatt steps out of the way.

My eyes meet Avery’s. Her brow softens when she takes in my face. I’m sad. It’s all over me. I reek of it. We stare at each other for only a moment, but it’s too long. I hurt her and I hate that. But she’s wearing her regret as clearly as I’m wearing my sorrow.

Avery takes a slow step onto the porch, her arms crossed in front of her. I brace myself, awaiting a verbal lashing about what being ‘ best friends’ means, about treating one another better. I lied. I hurt Declan. I pushed her away and then I fled before we could even talk about it.

That isn’t what we do. It’s never been something we allowed ourselves to do.

She stops before me, just out of reach.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her voice calm and even.

I drop my eyes to the ground, my lip trembling. I’d prefer her yelling at me. I’d prefer a cold reminder that I have been acting like a jerk, that I have to be better. My pain can’t be an excuse for the rest of my life.

She says none of that.

I shake my head just as my will collapses and the tears finally begin to fall.

No. I’m not okay.

I don’t know what I’ve done. I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself. To him. To her.

It takes less than half a second from when that first tear falls before warm hands cup my face. Avery quickly stands on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek, and then she wraps her arms around my neck, holding me to her body like a human bandage.

Wyatt’s hand flattens my hair, one last act of comfort before he leaves me in more suitable hands. The hands that I need. He presses a soft kiss to my head and then it’s just Avery and I on the porch together.

“I’ve got you,” she whispers, fingers rubbing between my shoulders. Three, simple words and I’m near inconsolable.

This is my home. Right here, in these arms. I hate hurting her. I hate keeping things from her. My heart is so broken for so many reasons, but betraying her trust is one of the big ones.

“I’m so sorry, Ave.”

She squeezes me tighter. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

That’s not true. I have a running list of things I need to apologize for and hurting her in any capacity is one of the most important. I had my monthly therapy appointment the day before yesterday. Word vomited, cried, and unleashed my heart on the poor woman. She gave me a lot of good tools, a lot of stepping stones to start moving forward, and one was to let go of my guilt.

Don’t ignore it, but don’t bottle it up. A lot of emotional distress is caused by guilt, and I happen to be someone who becomes reactive to any negative situation to protect myself. When I crash, the guilt follows. She believes that lovely new habit was a direct result of my relationship with Gavin. So, I have to start owning that feeling when it’s appropriate and apologizing if I truly believe I did something wrong.

I did something wrong here.

“Hey,” a hesitant voice says behind us.

I sniffle, jumping around in Avery’s arms.

Tiffany and Lauren are at the bottom of the steps, bottles and bags in hand, looking afraid to approach. I take a step away from Avery, but she doesn’t let me go. She keeps her hand on my back.

Always there. No matter what.

I wipe my face, flashing a pained smile at our friends.

They slowly make their way up the steps. Tiffany’s dark eyes scan my face. “Merry Christmas.”

I clear my throat. “Yeah. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Lauren says quietly, like she’s too nervous to say those words. Like they’ll somehow set me off again. Like there is nothing merry about the day at all.

“I brought you tequila,” Tiffany says, eyes softening as more tears fall. She wiggles the bag in her hand. “Two bottles.”

I force a smile, a cough of a laugh escaping me. “Thanks.”

She nods, but then steps forward. “Come here.”

I do, because I don’t know what else I can do. I don’t know if I want to do anything else but let my friends hold me all day. Tiffany wraps her arms around me, alcohol still in hand. She puts her chin on my shoulder and squeezes me in a tight, reassuring hug.

She’s yet another person that I hurt in the crossfire of my self-destruction.

“I should have told you,” I whisper, my voice breaking.

“Don’t do that,” she says quietly, rubbing my back. “It’s ancient history. I’m sorry it feels like this right now.”

“Tiff,” I sniffle, moving to pull back.

She holds my shoulder, meeting my eyes in a leveled glare. “Penny. Don’t make me the excuse for why you don’t chase your own happiness, alright? I’ll resent you for it.”

I wince. Point made.

“Whatever you decide to do,” she says quietly, taking a step back. “I’ve got your back, okay?”

I let out a shaky breath, forcing a nod .

“The boys are inside. We’ll be in in a few minutes,” Avery says.

I give Lauren a quick hug before they go inside. For the second time this morning, it is just me and Avery on the front step. Despite the snow, the sun is beaming down on us, and I hope that’s a good sign for what lies ahead.

Avery meets my eyes, letting out a long breath through her nose. She runs a hand through her short hair before gesturing to the clean, front step. She drops down onto it and pats the space beside her.

I fall onto the step, staring out at the quiet street, still and harmonious like Christmas mornings should be. Everyone’s tucked inside, spending time with their families around the tree, sipping hot cocoa and coffee with liqueur.

The world always spins onward, even when your own is ending.

“I could have been there for you,” Avery says without looking at me.

I shut my eyes, trying to prevent any more tears. “I know, Ave. That wasn’t the issue.”

“I’m not mad at you. I was just shocked.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. You are allowed to tell me and not tell me whatever you please,” she says, reaching forward to grab my hand. She squeezes my hand three times and then holds it. “I’m not entitled to every inch of your life.”

“But I should have told you,” I admit, finally finding the courage to look at her. She keeps her gaze on the road. “You probably could have helped prevent me from making things this bad.”

“You had a lot going on,” she reminds me. “I just want you to be okay. It breaks my heart knowing that you’re not. ”

I look up at the sky, finding the bravery to say something aloud that I’ve never been able to before.

“I think I’m in love with him, Ave.”

Her hand tightens around mine, a death squeeze. She wasn’t expecting that. I wasn’t either when the realization hit me. She slowly turns to me, eyes burning into my face, stunned by the admission.

I shake my head, crumbling a bit.

Oh god, there it is. That’s the truth. I love him. I don’t know when I started loving him, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.

“Penny,” she says quietly, reaching for my face. She pulls my cheeks downward so that I have to look her in the eye. Using her sleeve to wipe my eyes, she gives me a stern look, her own eyes full of unshed tears. “I think that boy has been in love with you since you threw up in his bathroom and his mom held your hair while you cried.”

I choke out a laugh, shaking my head at the memory. I hate that story. I hate that I was the main player in that story. Declan’s mom, that sweet angel, rubbed my back and convinced my drunk ass that I wasn’t embarrassing myself. I was. I totally was. I never stepped foot in that house again.

But, no, I don’t think that’s true. If there are any feelings between us at all, which I hope there are, I’d bet that they are new, undiscovered—that they started in that hotel room with soft whispers and frantic kisses.

“It’s okay to love him,” she tells me gently, still wiping my face.

“I can’t,” I choke out. “I keep fucking this up because I’m terrified of going through that again. I don’t want to give myself to someone again. It scares me.”

“Because it’s both new and old, and yeah, that’s pretty fucking scary. He’s been a constant for years, but not like this. Plus, you’re still healing from your last relationship. It’s not surprising that you’re afraid of what this feels like.”

“He’s such a good guy.” I sniffle, meeting her eyes. Her face softens, sympathetic tears still brimming and ready to fall. “He deserves somebody who is as good as he is, and that just isn’t me anymore. I survived Gavin, but if I’m scared all this unresolved pain might make me break Declan, and I won’t survive if it’s Declan who breaks me.”

Her brow furrows. “You are as good as he is. I’m biased, but he’s so lucky to be loved by you. Beyond lucky. I know it’s scary, but what if it’s worth it? What if you miss out on something wonderful because it scares you?”

It doesn’t matter. Even if I did want to take the risk and hand him my heart, I made sure that wasn’t an option. He’d never hand me his. I cemented my fate, sabotaged myself on purpose, for this exact result.

And now I don’t want it.

“I messed it all up, anyway.”

“So, fix it,” Avery says with a shrug. “You’re Penny and Declan. You’re two sides of the same coin. You’re drawn to each other. You always have been. This is fixable, Penny.”

“He doesn’t fee?—”

“—don’t finish that sentence until you give him a chance to tell you that himself,” she says bluntly. She shoots me a look of warning. “I love you, but you’re right. He’s been trying to make this better, and you’ve been sabotaging his efforts. Don’t put words in his mouth if you’re not going to let him tell you how he feels.”

I sigh, falling against her shoulder. I press my cheek against her sweater and try to think about this logically. She’s right. She usually is. He’s tried to fix this over and over already. Maybe, just maybe, it’s my turn to put in some effort. Maybe he won’t turn away from me. Maybe he would answer my call, even when he promised he wouldn’t.

Her arm snakes around my shoulders. She pulls me close.

A few beats of silence pass. We stare out at her street. It’s empty. The world is just waking up. It’s Christmas, and I’m with the people who matter most. My friends are inside. I will see my parents for dinner. Tonight, my sister will be here with my niece.

Everyone but him will be here.

Everything but this will be okay.

“So,” Ave says quietly after a moment. “How was the sex?”

I groan, rolling my head on her shoulder. “So fucking good.”

Avery rests her cheek against my head. “Atta boy, Dec.”

Neither of us hear the door open behind us, or the sound of Seth’s slippers on the steps.

“Am I interrupting?”

Seth is in his Christmas pajamas that match Avery’s. White, with reindeer print all over them. Their little red noses are shaped like Christmas baubles.

They’re so corny.

I love it.

He’s wearing a Santa hat, his glasses perched on his nose. He smiles down at us, all wide and happy, holding two mugs of coffee in his hands. One in a big, blue, mug with peppermint sprinkles on top.

Perfect timing.

“We should get inside anyway,” I say, pushing myself to my feet. I take the mug from Seth. “Merry Christmas, Seth.”

“How are you doing, P?” he asks, pulling me into a one-armed hug. I’m careful not to spill on him .

“Been better,” I admit, pulling away. I meet his eyes. “How is he?”

Seth shrugs, brushing his thumb against my shoulder. “Been better.”

My heart clenches. I hate that answer. I want to hear that he is happy, sleeping with a bunch of girls now that I’m out of his system, and that he’s not letting what I’ve done impact him in any way.

I mean that. I just want him to be happy, even if it’s with me completely out of his life.

I follow Seth and Avery into the house, and I’m assaulted by Christmas music and the smell of fresh, homemade cinnamon buns. I want to pull Seth back to me and hug him again. Nothing can make me feel better the way that cinnamon buns can. And hazelnut lattes. And his fiancé.

I bring the mug to my lips as I round the corner.

EJ is sitting at the island beside Lauren. He swivels on his chair to face me, opening his arms wide, blond hair perfectly styled.

“Merry Christmas, Roomie!”

I still, my eyes widening as panic constricts my chest. Avery nearly collides into my back but manages to sidestep me just in time.

“Oh, stop,” Avery grumbles, waving me off. “I already know. You think EJ can sneak anything out of my house? He’s as stealthy as a warthog. You get a pass for not telling me. Because of all the tears.”

“You’re not mad?” I ask, cocking a brow.

She rounds the island into the kitchen, winding her arm around Seth’s middle. She leans into him as she shoots a glare my way. “Furious. Don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you.”

I roll my eyes. Okay, she’s not mad. Since she gave me a pass, EJ gets one for spilling my secrets and being a terrible spy.

I shoot him a look of warning, but he just beams at me, opening his arms wider. I sigh, walking between his legs to give him a quick squeeze while taking a sip of my much-needed coffee.

“Merry Christmas, you little snitch.”