Allen nodded too quickly. “Yeah.”
Mark’s eyes narrowed. “That didn’t sound convincing.”
Allen tried to shrug it off. “Just tired.”
They carried on talking, but Allen was only half-listening. When he finally stood to leave, Connor frowned at him. “You heading off?”
Allen nodded. “Early start.”
Mark didn’t look convinced, but he let it go. “Message when you’re home.”
Nodding, Allen waved, then left the bar. Once outside, he walked a few steps, then stopped and pulled out his phone. Rick’s thread was there at the top.
Allen stared at it until his eyes burned. He should’ve blocked him. He should’ve gone to the police. He should’ve done a hundred things that made sense. Instead, he typed, Don’t. He didn’t send it. He deleted it and shoved his phone back into his pocket and walked home.
At home, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed,When?His thumb hovered over the send button, and he could feel the disgust rising inside, but it didn’t stop him. He sent it.
Rick replied almost immediately.Soon.
Allen stared at the word until his breath caught. He looked around his apartment, suddenly aware of everything—where the phone was hidden, the plates in the sink, the laptop on the table, the fact that his front door only had one lock and he’d never even questioned that before. He got up and started doing things that didn’t need doing. He wiped down the counter. He washed a cup that was already clean. He took the trash out, then came back inside.
When the knock came, Allen jumped in surprise, even though he’d been expecting it. He didn’t move at first. The knock came again, and Allen forced himself to walk to the door and look through the peephole. Rick stood in the hall with a paper bag in one hand. Takeout, like he said he’d bring. Allen opened the door.
Rick’s eyes flicked over him, taking everything in. The tension in Allen’s shoulders and the shadows under his eyes.
“You look like shit,” Rick murmured.
Allen’s throat tightened. “Don’t.”
Rick stepped inside and waited until Allen closed the door behind him. In the kitchen, he put the bag on the counter. “I brought food.”
Allen stared at it. “Why are you here?”
Rick’s gaze stayed on him. “Because you messaged me.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Rick smiled slightly. “It is.”
Allen’s hands clenched at his sides. “I shouldn’t have sent it.”
Rick looked at him. “But you did.”
Allen forced himself to breathe. He kept his voice steady. “There is no going back to normal for us.”
“I know.”
Allen’s stomach rolled. “And you’re acting like you didn’t—”
“I’m not,” Rick interrupted. “I know what you saw.”
Allen nodded once. “Good.” He took a step closer, forcing himself to hold Rick’s gaze. “Then answer my question.”
Rick didn’t move. “Ask.”
Allen’s stomach churned. “Why now?”
A flicker crossed Rick’s face. “It happened.”
