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“We stayed up and watched a few movies.”
I didn’t believe him, although I didn’t have any evidence he wasn’t telling the truth. I knew him so well now that I sensed the lie in the pit of my stomach. Why would he lie to me? Despite the catfishing when I was in prison, he’d always been honest.
“Griff,” he said quietly. “Don’t think too much. I’m fine. I promise. We’re fine.”
Maybe I was overthinking. Everyone had their moment when they needed some space. I brushed Scottie’s cheeks. “Do you want me to stay with you?”
He opened his eyes, but the second our eyes met, his gaze skittered away. “Don’t you have plans with Jarrod?”
“Yeah, but they’re not as important as you.”
“Oh no, you can’t cancel on him because of me.” He shuffled back and lay with his head on the pillow. “I’ll just sleep for a while longer.”
“You sure?”
“I am.”
I leaned forward and placed my lips on Scottie’s. He startled, pulling away but then catching himself. I drew back, an icy fear creeping under my skin. Scottie slipped a hand to the back of my head and pressed our lips together.
“Have fun,” he whispered.
I nodded, unable to respond for the lump in my throat. I picked up my phone from the night table and left without a word. Jarrod was waiting outside, leaning against the wall with his legs crossed at the ankle and frowning hard at his phone while his fingers flew over the keys.
When he saw me, he pocketed his phone. “You ready?”
“Yeah.” I patted my pockets. “Oh shit. Forgot my wallet.”
“Yeah, you better get it. Food’s on you.”
He’d tried paying for my food the first time we went out together, and I’d turned him down. We’d come up with a system where we alternated. The last time, he’d paid, so now it was my turn. “Gimme a sec.”
I went back inside the apartment and to our bedroom. Scottie was no longer in bed. He was rummaging through the drawers, wearing nothing but black underwear. I smiled, the sight of his plump ass distracting me from the reason I was there.
Scottie turned and froze. What the hell? Bruises like fingerprints dotted his skin, stark, ugly marks on his pale chest that I hadn’t put there. Scottie grabbed a shirt from the drawer and held it to his chest.
“Gr-Griff, what are you d-d-doing back here?”
“I left my wallet.” The words felt heavy on my tongue. “What’s going on, Scottie? How did you get those bruises?”
“What bruises?”
A flare of anger shot through me. Did he think I was an idiot? “The ones you’re clearly hiding from me.”
“I’m not hiding anything.” He dropped his arms. “I was, umm, horsing around with Jay. He plays a little rough sometimes.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes. What else could it be?” His knuckles turned white on the shirt he was crushing in his hands. “Do you think I cheated on you?”
“Did you?”
He snapped his head back as if I’d struck him. “How could you ask me that?”
“You’re not exactly being helpful, Scottie. You’ve been different since you returned home.”
“I told you I was tired. Have I ever done anything for you to think you can’t trust me?”
“This, right now.” I waved at him. “Earlier I kissed you, and you pulled away. If I touch you now—” I reached out to cup his cheek, and he stepped back. I curled my hand into a fist, and he shrank farther back. His reaction hurt even more than seeing those bruises on him. “You think I’d actually hit you?” I asked softly.
