"Don't feel obligated to answer."
“It’s just that I’ve got a rep for being a tough dude in construction, who tips back a few beers after work and watches motocross. Not the nerdy type who enjoys books.”
“I get that. I was expected to be a girly girl, at least by my mother. She dressed me in frilly pink dresses, lace, and bows. Dad was thrilled when I wanted to fish and help him under the hood of his car. Even more thrilled when I announced I was going into law enforcement. My mom, however, fainted.”
“Oh, wow.” He couldn't picture it.
“That’s how she gets her way, usually. Overly dramatic crap that some people fall for, but not me and Dad. They’re divorced now.”
Bristowe got up to switch out her laundry, and Flynn contemplated parents like hers. Miles better than his own, but fucked up in their own right.
“I’m Flynn Redford, by the way,” he said when she came back. “Since I didn’t tell you earlier.”
“Errol?”
He laughed. “Most people our age don’t get that right away.”
She held out the gum again, and he accepted. “Better than some obscure great grandmother’s maiden name.”
God help him, he found himself enjoying her company. “It sounds good, though.”
“What are your parents like? Other than 1930s film buffs.”
The sound of his heart crashing in his ears should have been adequate warning, but he proceeded regardless. “Locked up drug addicts.”
“Jesus, Flynn.”
Her wide eyes were nothing compared to the squeezing in his chest. Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on his knees and tried to catch his breath. “I should have seen the question coming.”
“Are you okay?” Bristowe rested her hand on his back, and for once in his miserable life, he didn't flinch from unexpected contact.
“Will be.”
“Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.”
“Yep.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault, doll.” Straightening, he glanced around the room. Nobody seemed to be staring at them. “It’s only sometimes, and only if I think about them too hard.”
“Rough childhood, then.”
“You could say.” Rising, he moved on shaky legs to the vending machine across the expanse of dirty white linoleum. Retrieving a bottle of water, he used a few minutes to calm himself down. He hadn't let those assholes affect him in a long time, and he wasn't about to start again.
“Are you okay?” she asked when he came back and sat.
“Am now.” Drinking more water, he closed his eyes for a second. “Sorry, I don't talk about them normally, and it’s easy to push the nightmares to the back of my mind. Sometimes, they come at me unannounced.”
“I understand if you don't want to talk about your family.”
“Thanks.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Maybe now you can understand my distrust of the police.”
“I assume you spent some time with them?”
“With them, running from them, dodging their questions.” He shrugged.
Her brows knit together. “Sounds like it sucked.”
