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“Tough shit, mate.”
I pinch between my eyes again, letting out a long breath. I feel a migraine coming on and could use a long bath and a few tequila shots. Ian shoves Ezra again and he huffs out a laugh.
“Do it again, kid, and I’ll fuck you up.”
“Okay, enough,” I snap. “Ian, go to bed. I’m serious. Right now.” He doesn’t move and I sigh. Whatever, I’ll deal with him in a minute. “You can have my bed, Ez. I’ll sleep on the couch.” He stares at me like I have six heads.
“I’ll sleep right here,” he says, taking a step back. When I open my mouth to protest, he shakes his head. “If anyone tries to come in here, they’ll have to go through me to get to you. Trust me, no one wants to meet me when they break into my house.”
“Whatever,” I sigh. “I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. Ian, leave him alone. Ez, leave my kid alone.”
“I’ll leave him alone when he stops looking at you like that,” Ian snarls.
“Just go to bed,” I say.
“When you grow up, you’ll learn that men like looking at beautiful women. Sometimes, they even like to fu—”
“Ez, shut the fuck up,” I growl as I push Ian down the hallway.
Fuck.
This is going to be a nightmare.
Ian
Istand in the doorway, waiting for Mom to walk toward her bedroom. I thought I liked Kiwi, but now I’m not so sure. He seemed cool, but I don’t like the way he was looking at Mom, and I don’t like that he’s trying to make this place his home.
It’s not.
She turns down the hall, her usual deep scowl on her face. When her eyes meet mine, she rolls her eyes.
“Go to bed, Ian,” she says. She looks exhausted. Dark marks are under her eyes, and her usually slim frame is thinner. I hate that she works two jobs. I told her I would take more hours at the store, but she refused to let me.
She wants me to be a kid and not worry about money and bills until I’m older. But how can I not worry about it when that’s all she worries about? I can see the strain and stress on her face every day and if I can do something to help, I don’t know why she refuses to let me.
“Why is he here?” I ask, following her into her bedroom. She lets out a sharp breath as she moves to her dresser, taking her earrings off as she goes. “I don’t like him.”
“You liked him fine earlier,” she says, her back to me. I plop onto her bed like it’s my own, and watch her flit around the room. “He’ll just be here for a few days. Play nice.” She gives me a hard look over her shoulder and I roll my eyes.
“I will if he does,” I mumble. “But if he keeps looking at you like that, I’m going to punch him in the face.” She snorts a laugh as she flips her head down, gathering all her hair into a bun at the top of her head.
“No punching anyone in the face,” she says as she stands. She puts her hands on her hips as she stares at me. “How’s Enzo?” My stomach twists, but I force myself to shrug.
“Fine,” I say, and her eye twitches. She always knows when I’m lying, or holding back. I hate it. Just once I’d like to not be transparent.
“Is he home again?” I nod as she speaks. She sits at the end of the bed, propping herself up with one hand. “You okay?” She rests her other hand on my knee, squeezing slightly.
“Fine,” I say again, but she still doesn’t look convinced. “I just have a big algebra test today.”
“You know you come first,” she murmurs, her hand tightening on my knee. “If you don’t want him here, I don’t give a shit what he says or how crazy he is, I’ll kick him out.” My mouth tucks up at the corner as I shrug.
“As long as he doesn’t get in my way, it’ll be fine.” She laughs as she pushes to her feet. She presses a kiss to the top of my head, then runs her fingers through my hair.
“You can sleep in here if you want,” she says hesitantly. “It’ll be like the sleepovers we did when you were a kid.” My face heats. Sometimes I think she forgets I’m fifteen.
“I’m good,” I say, rolling off the bed to my feet. “That would be weird.” She rolls her eyes.
“I’m your mother, it’s not weird.”
