“It is.” I grit my teeth as I try to take a step forward but trip a little. He’s probably got 70 pounds on me, and I begin to wonder if we’re going to spend the night on the sidewalk, when I hear someone run up from my left.
“Ember!” Regan dashes behind me, scoops up Bo’s other arm, and leads us forward.
“Where’d you come from?” I breathe a sigh of relief as we start up the stairs.
“Yeah, where’s my sister?” Bo asks, eyes barely open.
Regan answers Bo, looking at me, “She’s at home asleep. I don’t stay there.” He gives a proud smile and I understand. He’s falling for her.
“You didn’t have to come to get me, Ember,” Bo mumbles as we trudge up the narrow staircase.
I’m slightly out of breath. “Don’t worry about it.”
“No, no, I mean it ...” He stops and tries to turn and address me, but it throws me off balance.”
“Shit!” I yell, afraid I’m about to fall down the stairs. I catch myself on the railing, but Bo doesn’t even notice I was falling. “Just...shut up until we get you up the stairs.”
Regan gives me a concerned look. I shake my head and tilt my chin toward the apartment, where I’d like to get going.
As we reach the top of my stairs, Bo seems to gather a second wind and is able to stand without much assistance. He leans against the wall opposite my door— just in case, I suppose.
“Where’s Adrian?” Bo asks as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.
I shrug. “Out.”
“But, you’re all with him.” He knocks his head back into the wall.
“Yeah, and you’re all with Ainsley. What’s your point?” I say with my back to him as I unlock the door.
Regan and I flank Bo and guide him into the apartment, onto my couch.
“Yeah,” he slurs, “but I don’t love her the way you love him.” Regan winces a little at Bo’s words. My sigh carries me to the kitchen, and I return with water for Bo.
I sit on the coffee table across from Bo and hand him the water. “You shouldn’t drink so much. A lot of people depend on you.”
We lock eyes, staring into each other as Regan shifts uncomfortably to my side. Bo’s eyes toss like waves back and forth across my face, drowning me in their darkness.
With a deep breath I continue, “Judging by your closing song this evening, I’d say you don’t really believe I love Adrian.” I’m human, I can’t help it.
Bo chuckles gruffly and runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know why you believe you are.”
“Who the hell said I believed that?” Absentmindedly, I take off his shoes and put them by the door.
“So you don’t love him?” Bo asks, sounding almost sober. Regan’s eyebrows shoot up in apparent amusement at my banter with a drunken fool.
I shake my head and ask Regan to help me get Bo to my bed. It’s closer to the bathroom, and he’s too big to pass out on my couch. Bo’s able to get there without much physical assistance, and lays face-down on my bed.
“At least take your shirt off, for god’s sake. If you puke, I’d rather you didn’t have to drive home half-naked tomorrow.” I lift the bottom of his shirt. He sits back up and wraps his hand around my wrist.
“Why do you care what happens to me?” Anyone just walking in might think he is sober by his tone. His grip around my wrist tightens when I try to tug it away.
“I care what happens to you.” My nose tingles with threatening tears.
He drops my hand and takes off his shirt. “I don’t love her—Ainsley, I mean.”
“I know who you’re talking about.” I fold his shirt and put it on top of my dresser. Regan is leaning in the doorway, watching our scene.
Bo presses his elbows into his knees and holds his head in his hands. His shoulders are tight, wrought with tension. Deep breaths cause the black cross to swell and deflate. He sits back up, pinching the bridge of his nose before he speaks.
“I’m sorry, November.”
“Don’t be sorry. I just didn’t want you to drive dru -”
“No,” he cuts me off, “I’m sorry for everything. Fucking everything.” His speech is still slightly slurred.
I’m not having this conversation with him right now. “Just get some sleep, OK?”
The alcohol in his system forces his compliance, and he resumes his face-down position on my bed. I fetch my trashcan from the bathroom and hand it to Regan, who places it on the floor next to the bed. Walking back to the living room, I grab my cell phone, noting no missed calls or texts from Adrian. Five tries later, he’s still not answering my calls, and I throw my phone onto the couch and pace to the window, pressing my head into the cool glass.
“So the rest of the party got interesting, I take it?” Regan enters the room and sinks into the couch. I tell Regan about Bo playing “Better Man” and the ensuing drunk hijinks that followed.
“Real nice of C.J. to help me out at Lost Dog, by the way,” I kid as I plunk next to him.
“He’s an ass. I can’t believe you got Bo to the car by yourself ...” Regan trails off as he puts his arm around my shoulders.
“What?” I look up at him to finish his thought.
He stares at his knees and furrows his brow for a moment before speaking. I know that what’s coming is real. “His shit with Ainsley—”