Millie sits back onto the couch, her hand hovering over her wet nails to avoid smudging them. She’s watching me now—not with suspicion exactly, but like she’s trying to figure something out.
“So,” she says. “Jax, huh?”
“That’s me.”
“You don’t look like you’re from these parts.”
I raise a brow. “That a good thing?”
“For my sister? Probably not.”
I glance down the hallway, then back at her. “I’m not gonna hurt her.”
“You won’t even know you’ve done it until it’s too late.”
Before I can ease her worries, the bathroom door creaks open and Sisk steps back into view, her cheeks pink from washing up, hair pulled into a messy knot.
When it’s my turn, I duck into the bathroom, noticing how it’s barely big enough to turn around in. The mirror is so spotted I can barely see myself. I brace my hands on the counter and try to breathe.Her life is nothing like I expected, and I was expecting messy.
I piss fast, flush even faster. As I open the door, I hear a cough.
“Millie?” a man’s voice grumbles. “What the hell’s going on?”
Millie jumps up fast. “It’s me,” she says quickly. “Dropped a glass.”
He grunts. “Keep it down.”
He turns and sees me. He’s a big guy with a large mustache and eyes that look very much like Sisk’s. They narrow to slitsand I’m not sure if there’s anything I can say or do before he lunges toward me. He doesn’t say anything for what feels like an eternity. He is processing me: shirtless in his hallway. His gaze drifts past me, down the hall, toward Sisk who seems to have changed and put on a fresh shirt thank fuck.
“What the?—”
I panic. “Hello, sir, I’m?—”
He charges. “What the hell—?! Get out! Get the hell out of my house, you little shit!”
I run, no hesitation. Bolt straight for the door and up the stairs two at a time. I can still hear the echo of all of them screaming at once. I burst out of the stairwell and onto the rooftop, sucking in the night air. I lean against the ledge, trying to catch my breath, trying to process what just happened. I start to laugh.I’m an idiot. A complete, total idiot.I’m so, so screwed. That was not a good first impression.
Twenty minutes later, the door creaks open behind me. I glance back. Sisk’s carrying two pillows and a folded blanket.
“Sorry about that,” she winces, settling beside me.
“No, it’s… fine. I hate that he might think I’m…—” I trail off. She waits. “anything but good for you.”
She unwraps the blanket and starts laying things out.
“We’re not anything serious,” she says quietly.
I watch her, pretending I’m not gutted by that. “So what, are we just fuck buddies then? Is that what you’re calling this?”
She fluffs the pillow like it needs her full attention.
“Look at me,” I tell her.
She finally looks up. “What?”
“I’m done playing games. I want to be serious about you. About us.”
“I’m leaving soon, Jax. You know that.”
