Riley
Aloudbangrousesmefrom what can only be described as a restless slumber, jolting me up to a sitting position and causing my head to spin and throb.
Groaning, I reach a hand up to rub at my pounding temples in a vain effort to find some relief when a gruff voice says, “Well, good morning, Sunshine.”
Steph is my sunshine.
“Huh?” I blink my bleary eyes a few times to clear them, glancing around, surprised to find that I’m in the back officeat Aroma’s.
A harsh chuckle draws my attention, and I squint up at Bobby standing arms crossed in the doorway, his craggy face a mixture of amusement and concern. The cheap hollow-core door still rattles in its frame, clearly having been swung open with enough force to hit the wall and answering the question of what had awoken me.
“Tied one on last night, didja?” he asks.
Last night.
Fuck.
Was it just last night?
With Bobby’s words, the memory of all that was revealed at that disaster of a dinner comes flooding back to me. I flop dejectedly back onto the worn leather couch where I’d apparently passed out after escaping my mother’s house.
Sighing, I close my eyes. “Guess you could say that.”
Bobby moves further into the room, his feet jostling the collection of empty beer bottles strewn across the carpet and causing me to flinch at the sound. It’s followed by the familiar squeak and a groan of the old leather desk chair as he pulls it out and settles into it with a grunt. I crack an eye, meeting his gaze across the desk.
“Couldn’t at least have drunk the stuff we got on tap?” He eyes me pointedly. “These bottles ain’t cheap, ya know.”
I rub my face, then force myself to sit up, leaning forward with my elbows braced on my knees. “Sorry. I know. I’ll pay for them.”
Another grunt. “How ’bout ya just tell me what happened?”
“Don’t know if I should,” I mumble, staring down at the floor.
“Well, if you’re gonna crash on my couch and drink my beer, I think I deserve some kinda explanation.”
I nod, silently thinking through what exactly I should tell him. It’s not like I’ve had much time to even process it what with the drinking and all, but who the fuck could blame me after that revelation. I mean, holy shit, I have— I have—
“I have a son,” I blurt, finishing the outrageous thought out loud.
Bobby is silent for a long moment, and when I glance up to meet his eyes once more, he looks stunned.
“I, uh …” he clears his throat. “I assume you didn’t know about this before last night.”
My throat works on a swallow. “Fuck, no.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah.”
“Who … uh …”
“Steph,” I say, understanding what he’d been trying to ask.
“The girl you came back for?”
I nod.
“Jesus.”
