Satan: So I’m told. I’m going to do better.
Me: That’s what they all say.
Satan: I messaged you before I texted my mom. Does that count for anything?
I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to know that.
Satan: I’ve stopped drinking.
My heart twitches, relief fills my veins, and my shoulders loosen.
Me: Since when?
Satan: I just finished my last one. But I mean it. No more binge drinking, or feeding yeast to my feelings. I’ll do something else with my hands instead.
That makes a shiver roll through my body.
Satan: Like take up crochet, or scrapbooking.
Fucker.
Satan: Can you come over and tell me a bedtime story please?
Me: Sounds an awful lot like this is all about you, hot shot.
Satan: Get your sexy butt over here, and I’ll make it all about you.
I hate myself even more that his messages turn me on, but what makes me hate myself most, is that my body gets up off the chair, grabs my keys, and answers his majesty’s summons.
When I show up at the hockey house a little short of an hour later, the tension within the house seems to seep out the front door as soon as Artemis opens it.
I still don’t get why these guys arealwaysover here. It’s one thing wanting to feel part of a team, but if I had gorgeous fancy apartments like the de la Peñas are reported to have, I wouldn’t want to spend any time in this gross house, never mindallmy time.
“You came back.” Artemis stands back to let me into the house.
“I did.” I pick up the bags at my feet. “But you guys are going to have to start paying for these smoothies.”
He reaches into his back pocket and produces an envelope. “Already on it.”
I squint at him. “You just so happened to have that hanging out in your back pocket waiting for me to come by?”
He shrugs. “I’d hoped you’d come back. We all did. And it didn’t sit right with me that you paid for the ingredients for the last round of food you made for him.” He takes the bags from me, leading me inside.
“You and your brothers paid off my father’s medical debt, I think I can make a few smoothies for you guys.”
He levels me with a look that says not to fight him, so I swallow down another comeback. “You all hoped I’d be back?” Don’t cry, you fucking idiot. Except the way he said it hit me square in the feel-box. And now, all I want to do is cry.
“Of course we did.” It’s Apollo who answers this time.
Don’t these guys have their own homes to go to?
Scott’s not far behind him, and animated voices come from the kitchen. Guessing the rookies are home, too.
Apollo holds his arms out to pull me into a hug. “You hanging in there okay?”
I think this is the first time someone’s asked me how I’m doing in this.
“It’s hard on the partner in different ways.” Scott agrees with a nod. “And the fact that you’ve been through this before with your dad doesn’t mean the second time’s any easier.”
