Fuck Cain and his shitty timing.
Fuck me for ever letting anything pull me away from her.
I head into the bathroom with my phone clenched tight in one hand, the other running through my hair. It’s still black as hell outside, but the sun will start creeping up soon.
The lights are too bright when I flip the switch, but I leave them on, staring at myself in the wall-to-wall mirror, standing in nothing but black boxer briefs. My eyes drop to the tally marks on my arm—those messed-up little trophies I can’t help but love because every single one of them is her. Each one is a moment when I was in her head, in her body, wrapped around her as if I could crawl inside her chest and make a home next to her heart. I haven’t added a mark since… Jesus, since the first time she let me touch her in her bed. I don’t need to keep score anymore because she loves me.
She fucking loves me.
It’s been a week since she said it out loud, but I knew she did. She’s always loved me. I saw it in her eyes that day behind the bleachers when we were teenagers and again in that hotel room when I slammed the door and we looked at each other like we didn’t have ten years of damage between us.
I’ve seen it every day since.
I hit call and press the phone to my ear.
“About fucking time,” Cain answers.
“What’s up?”
“I’ve missed you, baby.”
“Eat my ass. What do you need?”
“Tempting, but I’m celibate now.”
“Right…” I mutter, already calling bullshit.
“I am. No pussy in… hold on.” He pauses, and I can just imagine him counting on his fingers like a fucking toddler. “Twenty-two days.”
“Wow. That’s huge. You want a hug or something?”
“Fuck you. I dare you to go twenty-two days now that you’ve had your own little fix of pussy.”
“I love you, but if you talk about her like that again, I’ll break your jaw and fuck your mouth shut with your own dry dick.”
“Jesus Christ, you just went full psycho boyfriend on me.”
“You deserved it.”
“So it’s true. My boy’s finally a man.”
“Cain,” I mutter, already tired of him.
“I’m proud of you.”
That actually gets a laugh out of me. “Thanks… Now, did you really just miss me, or did you want something?”
“I found him.”
The words knock the breath out of me.
Him.
My old man.
The laugh dies in my throat. My hand tightens around the phone, knuckles white, while the rest of me turns to ice.
“Where?”
