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Except there’s a third thing I want: Bristol.
“Fuck,” I say to no one. Someone turns the handle on the door.Oh, somebody’s using this,they say, and then they’re gone.
Winning is always going to be losing, isn’t it? For me, they’re the same thing. Because a decent person would be able to stay away from Bristol, even if they assigned her to work on top of his desk.
I’m not a decent person. And I won’t stay away.
9
BRISTOL
There’s shrieking comingfrom my apartment when I get home from work.
Anybody who’s ever spent time with young kids can tell you that, ironically, shrieking is almost always better than silence. Quiet means somebody isn’t where they’re supposed to be, or they’ve gotten into something they shouldn’t have, or they’re orchestrating a coverup.
The twins don’t shriek much anymore, and it’s a pure, delighted sound that spills into the hallway. Mia, laughing her ass off.
She doesn’t stop when I walk through the door. Sean has music playing in the kitchen. It’s not the filthiest song I’ve ever heard, but it’s definitely not kid-friendly. I probably would have danced to it in a club or a bar if I’d ever had a chance to, you know. Go out with friends. Or have friends that weren’t from work. Sean keeps telling me that the twins shouldn’t be my life, but guess what? They have been since my mom died. Who was going to make sure they were okay? Our dad?
Sure, he was.
Mia’s laughing so hard there are tears on her cheeks. Ben’s nodding along like he knows every word to this song, which I very much hope he doesn’t. And Sean’s singing, as seriously as if he were in a church choir.
I level him with a glare and raise my voice. “Are you kidding?”
He pretends to be surprised to see me. “Guys, cover your ears! We’re caught!” My brother deserves to be smacked with my purse, so I do. Hethwapsit away with the back of his hand before it can touch him. “I’m a highly trained assassin,” he says, keeping his hand in the air. “Attack at your peril.”
I know he’s joking, but Sean has a look about him, even in worn jeans and a gray T-shirt. He’s almost eight years older than I am, so he seemed like an adult to me when we were growing up. Looking back, though, he wasn’t. He was a skinny kid and a skinnier teenager with floppy dark hair and laughter in his eyes. Now his hair is always neat, and nobody would call him skinny. He’s got muscles for days, and sometimes there are more shadows than laughter in his gaze.
“Turn that off. Jesus, Sean.” No wonder Mia almost hyperventilated from shrieking. I can’t help but smile. Mia leans on Ben, catching her breath. Sean scrolls through something on his phone. Smooth jazz bounces over the kitchen. “Anything but this.”
“That’s what was playing when you came in, Bristol,” he teases. “I could go back to that.”
“Homework?” I ask the twins.
“Done,” Ben says.
“He’s not lying,” Mia confirms.
“Get out of here while I make dinner.”
They go without a fuss. “I want to dance,” Mia says as they head into the living room.
“I’ll get your book.” Ben turns toward their bedroom.
Sean stares after them, brow furrowed. “She dances with books?”
I wave him off. “He pretends to be an audiobook so she can dance and hear the story at the same time.”
“That’s weird.”
“What? They have to sit in desks all day. It’s not like they can wander around the neighborhood by themselves.” That’s never been true anywhere we’ve lived. I bet that kind of street only exists in the movies. A memory pops into my mind. Will, standing in his kitchen, a tray of cookies cooling on a rack.Whoever taught you how to host kids fresh off a week of school must be very proud right now. Was it your mom who made cookies for you growing up?His face, blank for a fraction of a second.No. I saw it in a movie.
I never asked him about it again. He never offered any more information.
I told myself I wouldn’t wonder, but after today, how can I not? After he locked the two of us in the women’s bathroom and—
“Bristol. Did I lose you? I meant, why dance to someone reading a book when music exists?” Sean taps at my shoulder. “Wait. Did something happen at work?”
