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“I’ll try to control myself,” I say, opening my eyes, wondering if there is a way out of this. I’m going to kill Kenton.
“That would be appreciated. I wish things were different, but I like my balls just the way they are. Plus, I don’t think you want to explain to my mom why I can’t give her grandchildren.”
Oh, God. Maybe I should make a move on him to save the world from him reproducing. “I need to go to bed,” I tell him, shaking my head.
“I’ll be here.” He pulls out some kind of gaming console from his bag and sets it on the coffee table. Then he pulls out a controller and some wires, but what I don’t see are clothes.
I watch him for a few minutes as he connects the system to the TV, and after he has everything hooked up, he sits down on the couch, pulls out a pair of headphones that have a mic, puts them on, and then turns on the game.
The second it loads, the loud sound of guns firing fills the room and men wearing camo appear on the screen. I look at the TV then at Justin and shake my head before leaving the room. I don’t care if Kenton has gone to ground; I need to text him to let him know that I’m going to kill him when he gets home. Then I need to go to bed. I go upstairs, pull out my phone, and send Kenton a text.
Me: I hope you make it home safely so I can kill you when you get here.
r /> I press send then bite my lip, wondering if I should apologize. I know he has my best interest at heart, but I do not want a babysitter. I toss my phone on the bed, grab some clothes from the dresser, and make my way across the hall to shower. When I get back to my room, I go directly to my phone and press the button, seeing that I got a text back.
Kenton: Sweet dreams, baby.
That’s it? He didn’t even address my threat. I huff out a breath, shake my head, toss the phone onto the bed, and pick it right back up to send another text.
Me: Ditto.
I hit send then feel stupid, wondering if I should’ve just left it alone.
I wake up in complete darkness for the second morning in a row. My first thought is Kenton. I miss not having him hold me. I don’t know how it’s possible to miss sleeping with someone after only having it for a few nights, but I do. I stretch out and look at the clock. It’s three thirty. I need to get up, send some e-mails, and pay a few bills before I have to get ready for work.
I got an e-mail back from Sid the other day, and I could tell even through e-mail that he was upset I hadn’t called him. Link also told me that I should try not to have too much contact with anyone in Vegas. He’s worried I could somehow be tracked. I think this is a little over the top, but what do I know?
I don’t miss home as much as I thought I would. I really don’t miss my old life at all. I know that Link can tell that I’m thinking about moving to Tennessee. The last time I spoke with him, he told me that he would be willing to have my stuff packed up and sent out to me if that’s what I want. The idea of making this my permanent home is exciting and scary. I just want to make the right choice.
I get out of bed and pull on a pair of sweats before opening my door. The first things I hear are explosions and yelling coming from the living room below. I slept for over eight hours, and I wonder if Justin sat downstairs playing that game the whole time. Then I wonder how the hell he’s supposed to ‘look out for me’ when he probably wouldn’t hear if someone were to break down the front door.
“I made coffee!” Justin yells over the TV as soon as I make it to the bottom landing. I wonder how the hell he heard me when the stairs didn’t even squeak. “Told you—you are safe with me,” he teases loudly as soon as I finish my thought.
I shake my head and walk into the living room, seeing that the whole space is covered with food wrappers and open bottles of soda. I have no idea how he consumed so much food in such a short amount of time. I take a seat next to him on the couch, pull a bag of Doritos from the coffee table to my lap, shove my hand in the bag, pull out a handful, and stuff my face.
“What game is this?” I ask through a mouthful while watching a guy get his head blown off.
“Call of Duty,” he mumbles. “These fuckers are campin’!” he shouts into the mic while the guy on the screen looks around him, trying to find whoever is shooting at him.
Before I know it, I’m yelling at the TV every time Justin gets shot at. I get so lost in the game that I don’t even realize how late it is until I look at the clock and see that it’s already after eight at night and I haven’t done anything with my day besides eat junk food and lie on the couch.
“I gotta get ready for work,” I tell Justin.
He grunts and nods. I get up and go to the office to get online. After I pay my bills, I check my e-mail, and the first one is from Sid.
Angel,
There is so much I should have told you, so many things I should have said. I want to hear your voice. Please call me. My number hasn’t changed.
XX Sid
I close my eyes and lay my forehead against the desk. I do not want to deal with this, but I know I need to let Sid know that there’s nothing between us and never will be. I feel bad, but I know I’ll feel worse if I let him believe even for a second that I felt anything for him.
“What’s going on?”
I lift my head and look at Justin, who is standing in the open doorway of the office.
“Nothing.”
