Page 13 of Bruised

Her voice softens as she turns around and gives me a smile. “I’ve missed you, though.”

“Missed you too.”

She only visited me in prison once, which was justified, I guess, given the hours-long bus ride. But the unspoken words hang in the air between us. We haven’t properly talked about what happened that night…

“How was prison?” she asks.

“Pretty boring.”

“Didn’t get into trouble?” She winks.

“I figured I’d already gotten into enough trouble.”

I spent most of my time working out and trying to keep to myself, and thankfully, the guys in there got the memo and mostly left me alone. For over a year, my focus was on making the time pass. And now it has. All I want is to put that shit behind me, but the world won’t let me forget.

As we cross the living room, Tess lunges at the family photos above the TV, grabbing one with the whole, happy family—as it used to be, anyway. Me, my mom, Oliver, and Logan.

“You look pretty much the same,” Tess says. “But oh my God, is that your brother?”

I shrug. “Yeah.”

“He’s so tiny and cute! And who’s this? I thought your dad was⁠—”

“That’s my stepdad.” Former stepdad. I have no idea why Mom lets the photo stay up and poison the house with its memories, but if I had to guess, it’s got something to do with Oliver.

“Can I see your room?” Tess asks.

“It’s not much to see, but fine.”

We go upstairs, and Tess settles on my bed and starts talking.

At times like these, I just like to listen. Tess doesn’t mind if I don’t nod or hum at every statement or rhetorical question. She knows I’m listening. She knows I care. Besides that, she’s the only person I feel comfortable being myself around.

I had a few friends lingering from high school, but when pretty much all of them went off to college, I was left alone, sick to death of studying, and lacking direction in life. When I was twenty, I applied for this random bartender job on a whim, and my charms and interview skills must’ve been stellar enough for the boss to accept me despite me being underage. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

“So my new job is pretty shit,” Tess says, rambling on in quick succession about stuff I haven’t asked about but still want to know. “The owner is a jackass, the staff is overworked, and we serve rich assholes all night, but at least the pay is decent. Oh! And my coworker is a fucking goddess—I’m crushing hard. We’ve got a couple of cute boys too,” she adds with a wink.

“So have you asked her out yet?” I ask, a little bored but curious all the same.

Tess is a relationship person; during the time I’ve known her, she must’ve had about a dozen relationships, with durations ranging from less than a month to about a year. Don’t know how she does it. No offense to her, but relationships are for boring people. As for me, I’m just looking for a fun time.

With a fun time, both parties get what they want and don’t walk out hurt in the process—even if some of the guys I’ve fucked have wanted more and claimed I used them. Hell yeah, I used them, but that’s what they fucking wanted. They had a great time, came buckets, and maybe we saw each other once or twice after that before I got bored and moved on.

Nothing personal. Just the whims of desire.

There are lots of people out there looking for a good time like me, but as it happens, I can’t really find any right now without violating my parole, and the last thing I want is to land myself back in prison. That would be the opposite of fun. Granted, I did get laid quite a bit in prison, but it was always laced with desperation, with guys who weren’t my type.

As for my type, well… I don’t have to travel far to find one. Just a walk down the hallway.

Tess interrupts her rambling to ask, “What’s got you smiling like that?”

I was smiling? “Nothing.” No one.

She punches me lightly on the shoulder. “Oh, come on, I know that smile. You’ve met someone.”

“How am I supposed to meet someone if I never leave the house?”

Just then, I hear Oliver and Lane laughing among themselves as they go downstairs for breakfast, or more like late lunch.