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sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so…I just…” I sighed. “I don’t

know what I mean.”

And I didn’t. What was wrong with me?

“Don’t worry about it.” He laughed. “I’m just trying to figure

you out. You’re different from most girls around here.”

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“There’s not much to figure out,” I retorted. Different? What

the hell did that mean?

We reached the entrance, and I felt the heat from outside

slide across my skin. I spotted Gram across the way, chatting

with a few ladies, her arms heavy with vegetables.

“Look,” Brent said. “Nate is one of my best buddies, and

right now he’s going through some shit. Some really bad shit.”

“I know.” I moved so that the large woman who’d nearly run

me over earlier could pass.

“He told you about what happened?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Look, the thing is, none of us knows where his head is at.

He broke up with Rachel. He’s not talking to any of us, and the

guy won’t even pick up his guitar. That’s just wrong. God, it’s

wrong on so many levels. I heard what happened at the hospital.

I heard that Mr. Lewis rode his ass hard.”

“It wasn’t pretty.”

“You were there?” He seemed surprised.

“Yeah.”

“Well, maybe you can…” Brent seemed at a loss and hunched

his shoulders, kicking the ground with his shoes.

“I can what?”

“Maybe you can help him. He needs something, you know?

Something good right now, because as long as Trevor’s in the

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hospital, Nate is stuck in all the shit that happened that night, and honestly? It could have been any one of us behind the wheel.

Shit happens. Mistakes happen.”

“Were you there?” I asked, more than a little curious.

Brent handed me my bag, his eyes on the ground.

“Yeah. I was there that night. I got there late. Had a fight

with the girl I’d been dating, so I was stone sober. I offered to drive them home before I got into it but…”

“But what?”

He looked up and I saw moisture in his eyes. Brent exhaled

and shrugged, wiping at the corners of his eyes. “Trevor said

no. He told me that Nate was good, and I believed him. I guess

Nathan’s not the only one who screwed up that night. I should

have checked, but I didn’t. I knew those guys were partying hard, but they were always good about the driving thing. They took

turns. We all did.” He sighed. “I was pissed and all I wanted to

do was crack open my bottle of Jack and hopefully get laid.”

Brent swore and ran his hands across his chin, his eyes on

me. “I wish we could go back, you know? Back to before that

night when everything was good. Because nothing is the same,

and it sucks.”

No shit.

“Hi, Mrs. Blackwell.” He waved to Gram as I took a step

forward, but his hand stopped me. “What are you doing tonight?”

Warily, I studied him for a moment, wondering what his

angle was. “Nothing. Why?”

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“A bunch of us jam at the Coffee House every other Friday.

It’s a small place in town. We do acoustic stuff. Lots of singing.

Playing. It’s a good time. You should come.”

I wasn’t sure what was going on. Was Brent asking me out?

“Unless you want to stay home with your grandma and

watch
Jeopardy
,” he continued. “’Cause I’m sure that will be a good time too.”

And that was pretty much what the evening held for me. Not

that I didn’t like being with Gram, but there was only so much

Jeopardy
I could take.

Surprisingly, I kinda wanted to go, except…

“I don’t really know anyone.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You know Nathan. Tell him to come,

and while you’re at it, tell him to bring his guitar.”

I started to protest, but Brent cut me off.

“He needs this, Monroe. It can’t hurt to ask.” He paused and

smiled so sweetly at me that I was pretty sure it was something

he’d done a hundred times before. “Please?”

Gram was at the car by now, loading her bags into the trunk.

“What time?”

“Around nine.” Brent grinned and I saw the relief in his eyes,

but I had to set him straight. I knew a little bit about the process of healing— or not healing— and nothing was easy.

“He’ll probably say no.”

“Probably. Though I think he’ll have a hard time saying no

to you.”

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“Really,” I said dryly.

“I know
I
would.” He grinned. “
Sugar
.”

The guy had enough charm to light up an entire city block

in New York, and I couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t promise, but I’ll try.”

“Cool,” he said. “I’ll save you guys a seat.”

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When my cell pinged, I almost didn’t answer it.

Rachel had been texting me for days now. She was incessant,

and I knew that she wouldn’t stop because she was real stub-

born. Always had been. I used to like that about her.

But right now, she couldn’t get that I wasn’t into her anymore.

She thought that us breaking up was about the accident, but she

was wrong.

The events of that night were like a cancer that was growing

and wouldn’t stop. But the seeds of that cancer had started a

long time ago, and she was part of it. I was outgrowing the

endless parties and good times— Trevor and I both were. Music

had pretty much become everything to us, and it was hard to

write really good songs when you were wasted.

And wasted is what she was all about these days.

It hadn’t always been that way. Rachel used to make me

laugh. She used to have this way of making everything light and

easy. We used to hang at Trevor’s and play guitar and write songs BoysLikeYou.indd 135

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and she’d listen to us, this big grin on her face because she really dug what we were doing.

God, she’d walk into a room and most every guy’s head would

swivel around, and I was proud that she was my girl. But then

something changed, and I don’t really know what it was. Maybe

I just outgrew what we had. Maybe I outgrew our friendship, or

maybe it was Rachel.

Bottom line was that I stopped thinking of Rachel as someone

I loved a long time ago. I mean, I loved her, but not in the way

a guy should love his girlfriend.

Music was my thing, and it had kind of taken over. It was mine

and Trevor’s. It was all we lived for. And he knew how I felt about Rachel, about how I was going to break up with her. I’d planned

on doing it that night, but then everything had gone to shit.

So I’d let it fester for three more months, and though I had

finally stepped up and cut her out, the cancer was still spreading, and I didn’t know how to stop it.

I didn’t know how to end it because the cancer was connected.

It was connected to me and Trevor, and if it took my best friend

whole, I was pretty damn sure it would take me too.

The cell pinged again and I stared at it, not moving. We’d

finished dinner and my mom had just cleared the plates. I heard

her and Dad in the kitchen, talking softly, murmuring to each

other. They were worried. Worried about me.

I didn’t deserve their worry or my mom’s sad looks or the way

she tried to smile though her pain.

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“Are you going to answer that?” Dad’s voice jerked me from

wherever the hell my mind was at, and I glanced over to him.

I shrugged. “Doubt it. It’s probably Rachel again.”

I’d migrated to the family room, and he slid into the leather

chair across from me. The big screen was on, the Texas Rangers

were pounding the crap out of the Dodgers, but there was no

sound. There was only the shit inside my head.

Dad leaned forward. “You guys broke up?”

“Yeah.”

“You have a fight?”

I looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, and he held his

hands up.

“Just asking.”

I shook my head. “We didn’t have a fight. We just…we just

don’t fit anymore.”

“It happens.”

“Yeah.”

He cleared his throat. “I ran into Mike Lewis today.”

That had me sitting up. “Is Trevor okay?”

“He’s the same.” My dad blew out a long breath. “Mike told

me you were there last Saturday.”

My eyes slid away. “I needed to see him, Dad.”

“I know.” My dad got up and walked over until his knee was

touching mine. He bent forward, clasped my shoulders in the

way that guys do, and I hated that all the pain inside me was

bubbling, just there, just underneath my skin like invisible scars.

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“They hate me for what I did.”

He ran his fingers across the top of my head, just like he used

to do when I was little, and a big lump clogged my throat.

“It’s not hate,” he said roughly. “It’s…you have to understand

the place that Mike and Brenda are living in is dark. Mike’s

taking it out on you because he has no one else to hit. Right

now, you’re it. You’re the face he sees when he’s in pain, but he’ll come around.”

“I should be lying in that bed, not Trevor.”

“No.” His voice was sharp. Sharp and rough. “Don’t you ever

say that again.”

“It’s the truth.”

Something snapped in my dad. His eyes got all weird and his

mouth was tight as he glared at me.

“I will tell you right now that I don’t want to hear that kind of crap coming out of your mouth. Understand? What happened

is in the past. There’s nothing you can do to change what you

did that night. It’s done. Finished. Do you understand?”

But he didn’t get it. I wasn’t so sure his answers were the

right ones.

“It’s not over. Don’t you get that? No matter how much you

all want it to be over.” My voice was loud, and I shifted away

from him. “It’s all I can think about. It’s in my head every single day. If Trevor…” I had to stop for a second. “If Trevor doesn’t

make it…” but I didn’t have the balls to finish my thought. I

couldn’t say the words out loud, so I left them hanging.

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“I know it’s hard, Nathan, but shutting yourself out and

taking a vacation from life isn’t the answer either.”

“You don’t get it,” I replied. “It’s so much more than just

a mistake. A mistake is putting milk in your coffee instead of

cream, or calling the wrong play in a game.”

“I’m not minimizing what you did, Nathan. I would never

do that.
You
made
a
mistake
. You. All on your own, and it was one with tragic consequences. But you’re going to have to live

with them. You’re going to have to deal with them.” His voice

broke, and I felt the heat of tears stinging my eyes. “No one is

perfect. Remember that.”

That was me all right. Far from freaking perfect.

“Yeah, well, my bad decision just might kill my best friend or

leave him damaged for good. He’ll hate me forever.”

“Maybe.” My dad pushed away. “Maybe not. But whatever

happens, we’ll deal with it. Your mom and I are here for you. I

hope you know that.”

“You guys must be so ashamed.” We’d never really talked about

this stuff before. After that night, when they’d come for me in

the hospital, my mom had talked about everything except what

had happened. And my father? He’d been real quiet. Scared.

“I’m not ashamed of you, Nathan. Don’t ever think that.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I wish that you didn’t

have to deal with any of this. I wish that Trevor was good and

healthy and that you guys were off with the band playing a

show tonight.”

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“That’s not gonna happen,” I muttered.

“No, it’s not, and I’m sorry it didn’t turn out that way. But

I believe that the events of that night also set into motion the

things that will define you. The things that will make you into

the man I know you can be.”

My cell pinged, but this time it was a call.

“You should answer that,” he said quietly.

When he was gone, I glanced down, jerking forward when I

saw who it was. Monroe.

I clenched my jaw as a wave of anger rolled over me. After

Sunday, I’d thought…hell, I don’t know what I had thought.

But I sure didn’t think she’d act as if I didn’t exist. Maybe she had figured out what everyone else already knew. That I was

bad news.

The phone pinged for several more seconds and then stopped.

I waited for a few minutes and then checked my voicemail, but

there was nothing.

Tossing it, I sank back into the sofa, rested my head, and

gazed up at the ceiling. I kept clenching and unclenching my