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I clean up and throw myself through a quick shower. I’ve still got a dressing over my shoulder, but with every day that passes, I’m less and less careful about getting it wet. Today especially as I stand there under the waterfall shower in Toby’s guest bathroom.
I want to believe that by washing any evidence of his visit down the drain, my memory might go with it. It’s wishful thinking; I know that before I even attempt to forget.
Ignoring the soaked, half-peeling-off wet dressing, I pull on a pair of booty shorts and a vest and head out in search of a much-needed coffee.
Jodie is sitting at the dining table with a laptop open before her. She’s completely distracted, tapping away.
It’s not until my shadow falls over her that she realises she has company.
A small gasp rips from her lips before her eyes lift to mine.
“What?” I ask when something wicked dances in her eyes.
“Oh nothing. Nothing at all.”
I frown at her, trying to figure out what’s going on.
“Do you want a coffee?” I ask.
“Please.” She slides her mug toward me for a refill. “I’d make yours with a double shot if I were you.”
I mean, yeah, I fucking need it, but— realisation slaps me upside the head.
“You heard me.” It’s not a question; it doesn’t need to be. The answer is written all over her face.
“Babe, it was hard not to. Do you know how loud you can scream?”
“Do we have to?”
“I thought someone was trying to kill you, Bri. I woke up terrified and already halfway to your room, ready to fight for you.”
“As much as I appreciate that, it really wasn’t necessary.”
“No. So I saw when I threw the door open.”
There isn’t much that embarrasses me these days, especially with my best friend, who has literally seen it all before, but my body defies me and heat blooms on my cheeks.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, stalking toward the kitchen while she laughs at me.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Bri. We all have needs.”
13
NICO
Iwent back to school today. I didn’t want to. I wanted to do the exact fucking opposite, but my time hiding in my flat is over.
Hell knows I’ve done enough of that in the past few weeks.
So instead, I had a solid word with myself, pulled on my uniform, ran some wax through my hair, and tried to forget everything else.
I have exams. I need to focus. I want to say that I’ll have the summer to fuck about. But I won’t. The second my exams are done, I intend to dive head first into my soldier role. I don’t care if Damien doesn’t think I’m underboss material. I already know I’m not. But I have every intention of proving to him that one day, I will be.
One day, I will step into my father’s shoes, and I will make him proud.
I want that. And for the first time in my life, I don’t think that’s all I want, either.
“Mr. Cirillo?” Mrs. Hendrix says, dipping down low to get into my eye line.
