Noah didn’t like where Malcolm was going.

“You keep saying that you were afraid to make a move with her because she’s vulnerable,” Malcolm said. “But maybe you’re the one who’s vulnerable. Maybe you stopped kissing her not to protect her, but to protect yourself.”

The silence that followed his words this time was reverent, somber, and made Noah’s skin itch. He felt suddenly exposed, and not because he’d just admitted to making out with his best friend.

“Noah, why did you stop her from taking things further last night?”

“I told you. I wanted to make sure it was what she really wanted, that she wasn’t just upset.”

Malcolm shook his head. “You know Alexis. Would she do that?”

The sting of bile turned his mouth sour. Noah shook his head. No, she wouldn’t do that. Self-loathing bled into regret and panic as the full weight of what he’d done settled in the dark, churning pit of his stomach. After more than a year of being accused by strangers of using her body for everything from revenge to furthering her career, Noah had all but acted as if she’d done the same—of using her body to satisfy some kind of temporary emotional need.

Holy fucking shit. What had he done? He shoved his plate away and propped his elbows on the table so he could bury his face in his hands.

“I think you stopped her because you weren’t sure if it was what you wanted,” Malcolm said.

Noah looked up at that. “Of course it’s what I want!”

“Maybe all this stuff about not wanting to burden her when she’s already upset is all just one big excuse. Maybe you’re just afraid of what’s on the other end of this change in your relationship.”

Noah didn’t like the truth in that accusation. Noah ground his hands into his eyes. “This is why I never wanted to act on my feelings. Because I knew it could ruin our friendship.”

“It won’t if you tell her how you really feel.” Malcolm gently pounded a fist on Noah’s back. “And more importantly, show her how you feel. Let her see it. Let her see you.”

“Just tell me what to do,” Noah said, desperation turning his voice into a whine.

“You gotta give her some space like she asked,” Mack said. “But use the time to your advantage.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Do some hard work on yourself,” Malcolm said. “Figure out the why behind your own actions.”

Which is why, an hour later, Noah found himself carrying the book once again to his couch.

     Missy found AJ red-eyed and snotty, a half-empty bottle of Jameson on the coffee table in front of him and a neglected glass in his hand. On the TV, he’d paused the video of Tara’s third-grade dance recital.

 He looked up when she walked into the room. “I missed it all . . .”

 “Yes, you did.”

 He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Why did you give me these videos?”

 Missy sighed heavily and sank down on the couch next to him. “You wanted to see them.”

 “Well if your goal was to torture me, then you succeeded.”

 “Why? Because you weren’t part of it? You’re romanticizing a past you wanted no part of when it was happening. You would have missed it all anyway. The dance recital? It was the same weekend that you played in your first Super Bowl. The Halloween talent show? Middle of October. That Christmas pageant? You would have missed it for a game.”

 “I would have fucking found a way to attend my own daughter’s Christmas pageant.”

 Missy shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’m leaning heavily toward not.”

 She stood. “These things you’re so upset about? That’s the good stuff. You’re sitting here crying over your whiskey because you missed the holidays and the birthday parties, but you don’t see the other stuff. There are no videos of the weeks of sleepless nights where I had to walk up and down a hallway with a colicky newborn. There are no videos to show you of the homework fights and the eye-rolling years or the long hours of potty training or the embarrassing time she threw a full-on tantrum at Target and I had to carry her out like a football under my arm. Can you honestly sit here and tell me you wanted all of that? That you would have been there for all of that?”

 His eyes darkened. “We’ll never know, will we? Because you fucking kept her from me.”

 “You should have answered your phone.”

 “You should have fucking tried harder!”

 She studied him quietly. “Maybe you’re right.”

 His eyes widened in surprise at her admission.

 “Maybe I should have called relentlessly every day for six months instead of one. Maybe I should have mailed ultrasound photos to your apartment. Hell, maybe I should have flown cross-country with a newborn baby to show up unannounced at the NFL Draft. The thing is, I’m willing to stand here and admit to you that I could have tried harder, but only if you are willing to admit that it wouldn’t have made a difference.”

 He blinked, face stony once again.

 “And until you’re willing to do that, there’s nothing more for you and me to talk about.”

 Missy stormed to her bedroom and slammed the door. Several minutes later, she heard her bedroom door creak open. She rolled over in bed and saw AJ silhouetted in the doorway.

 He leaned drunkenly against the doorframe. “I want to hear about the tantrum at Target.”

 Missy stared into space. She should tell him to fuck off but didn’t. Instead, she scooted up in bed and leaned against the headboard.

 “She was three, way too precocious, and long overdue for a nap. I needed to run in to grab a birthday present for one of her friends at day care. The minute we got in the toy aisle she saw something she wanted but my budget for the week only allowed for a toy for the little boy. She had a meltdown like kids do. Except I finally had to carry her out, and the minute we hit the parking lot she started yelling “HELP.” She damn near got me arrested.”

 AJ’s bark of a laugh caught her by surprise. “What did people do?”

 “They looked at me like I was kidnapping a child! I was like, she’s mine, she’s just mad.”

 He laughed quietly again, but sober silence once again followed. “What was it she wanted?”

 “I don’t even remember. Probably a Disney Princess toy. She was really into those at that age.”

 He turned away from her, and then she watched as his shoulders dropped. And then his hands came to his face and . . . oh shit. He was crying. Openly weeping.

 Missy threw back the covers and slid out of bed.

 “AJ . . .”

 He whipped around and yanked her against his hard body. His face dropped to her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Missy. I’m sorry that you ever had to make those kinds of choices, that my own fucking daughter had to go without a goddamned toy at Target because her mom couldn’t afford it while her father was off making fucking millions of dollars.”

 She held him while he cried, until his strength gave way and he leaned against the wall behind them. He slid down to the floor and sat with one knee raised.

 “You were right,” he said.

 “About?”

 “It wouldn’t have made a difference.”

 Missy took pity on him and joined him on the floor. “Thank you for admitting that.”

 He rolled his head against the wall to look at her. “I was terrified of being a father. Of what it would mean, not just for me, but for her. All I am, all I know, is football. She was better off without me, and we both know it.”

 “Is that your justification or your apology?”

 “It’s my regret.” AJ reached up and pushed her hair off her forehead. “But it’s not just Tara I regret. I missed out on other things too.”

 The weight and meaning of his gaze made her cheeks blaze.

 “I missed out on you. On watching you be a mom and grow into the woman you are. I think I would have liked being part of that.”

 Her heart caught. He didn’t know what he was saying. He was just full of remorse and whiskey sentiments. “You’re still romanticizing things. You didn’t love me. We wouldn’t have gotten married, and even if we had, it would have been miserable. You know that.”

 “It wouldn’t be miserable now.”

 She laughed out loud and let her head fall back against the wall. He really was drunk.

 “We could try, Missy. Couldn’t we?”

 “No.”

 “Why not?”

 She rolled her head to look at him. “Because you don’t really want to.”

 “Yes, I do. I want to sweep you off your feet the way I should have back then. I want to buy you your dream house and pay for Tara’s college and take you on trips. I want to give you jewelry and—”

 Disappointment brought her back to her feet. “Is that what you think I want or need? What Tara needs?” She shook her head before he could respond. “We don’t need you to show off for us. We just need you to be here. There’s no grander gesture than that. And it’s the one thing you have never been able to give us.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Alexis had never considered herself a coward.

Naive, maybe. Misguided for sure. But everything she’d ever done, every horrible mistake she’d ever made, had been rooted in reasons.

Not necessarily good reasons. Sometimes really bad reasons. Sometimes the reason was that she had no other choice. But not once did she ever feel like she’d done something purely out of fear.

Not until she told Noah she needed space and then walked away from him on Monday. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but as the days passed, doubt and regret followed by a punishing dose of loneliness made clear what had really been driving her decision: cowardice. She’d been humiliated by his reaction to their kiss, and so she’d simply gone into hiding. She’d spent all week avoiding everyone and their questions—Liv, Jessica, Sonia. She threw herself into work and dodged all attempts to get her to talk.