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Good, but my boss is on my mind twenty-four hours a day. Good, but he needed something from me today, and I’m not sure I gave it to him. Good, but it’s also extremely fucked up.
“What’s wrong?” Sean asks. He always hears it when I hesitate or try to bullshit him. We’ve talked on the phone almost more than we’ve spoken in person.
“Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Bristol…”
“I’m just tired. Everything’s fine. I’m figuring it out.”
“What kind of temp agency gives out advances?”
“It wasn’t the temp agency. It was my boss at the firm I’m working at.”
The silence is definitely judgmental now. No boss in the world would give out an advance like this with no strings attached, and Sean knows it.
“Listen.” A distant voice, far in the background. “You have to remember your goals. You always wanted to get out of there and go to the beach. Being some man’s toy—”
“Sean.”
“—is not going to get you there.”
“I know. I do.” These calls never last long. They can’t. I don’t want to fight with him. “That’s still the plan. Dad being gone so long is just a temporary setback. It’s all going to work out.”
There’s a strange knock at the door. Almost muffled somehow. Like the person really has to try.
“You sure, Bristol?”
It comes again, sharper this time.
“Sean, I have to—”
“Time’s up,” he says. There are shouts in the background. “Gotta go. Love you.”
The line goes dead, and I slide the phone back onto the countertop. It could be my dad at the door. It could also be people who want to do him harm. It could be anyone.
I rise on tiptoe to look through the peephole.
Then I’m scrambling for the deadbolt, fast as I can. My heart jumps up and down, demanding answers. Why is he here? And who the hell hurt him? Even with the warped view of curved glass, I could tell something was wrong. I open the door to reveal fresh bruises and blood.
“Oh my God, Will. What happened?”
He takes one look at me, grips the doorframe, and propels himself into the apartment. His hands are on me the next second, followed closely by his mouth on mine.
It would be a sweet kiss if I couldn’t taste blood.
“I went to a fight,” he says.
Will kisses harder, backing me into the wall, and I almost, almost fall into it and forget myself. Forget everything. Forget that he doesn’t belong here.
This is what makes sense. This heat. This fury. The metallic taste of this fight he…
This fight he went to?
Will breaks away to suck in a breath, and I catch him wobbling. Unsteady on his feet.
I snap out of it. Back into the reality that he’s bloodied and bruised and looks like hell. The twins can’t wander out and find him like this. “You’re hurt. You need to sit down.”
“I really don’t. Kiss me again.”
