Tossing the wood in the back of the truck, I say, “Stop. I’m not in the mood for that shit Livvie. This isn’t a goddamn dating game.”
“Sure, sure,” she says, still smiling. “Because the ass crack of dawn is when most people like to get up and do some handiwork for random people.”
I lift another set of planks and glare at her. “Or maybe some people work for a living and only have so much spare time.”
Her smile dies and I feel a hollow pang of guilt. “The hell’s wrong with you?” she asks, coming down the porch steps. When I don’t answer, she grips my shoulder, forcing me to face her even though the weight of four planks makes the movement cumbersome. “Hey,” she says, all joking aside. “What’s going on?”
I shift the weight of the planks. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a jerk.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure it comes naturally to you, but that’s not it. Something’s up.”
“Not my business to talk about, Liv. I’m not really in the mood for share and tell.” I skirt her inquiring gaze and drop the last load into the truck bed.
I flip up the door and get to the driver’s side, but Livvie meets me there, her brow furrowed. “Is there something I should know?” she asks carefully. There’s a skitter of tension underneath her voice and the big brother in me automatically ruffles her hair to knock it away.
“No, I’m just in a mood is all.”
“Are you sure? Is there something I can do to help?”
“No.” Nothing she can do anyway. “Day of blood and sweat should make it all go away.”
Livvie grimaces. “Guys are so weird. I bet a million bucks you’d feel so much better if you opted for a mani-pedi and a massage.”
“Maybe next time.” I steal a sip of her coffee and make a face as the overly-sweet taste hits my tongue.
“That’s what you get for stealing,” Livvie says.
Nudging her shoulder, I step up into the truck. “I’ll see you later.”
I’m nearly to Sofie’s house when I realize I forgot my copy of her house key on my kitchen counter. I’d taken it off of my key ring in a fit of rage after the last time I was there and tossed it. Cursing myself, my temper flaring, I flip a bitch and head back to the gym.
Friday mornings aren’t usually all that busy, but there are a couple cars in the lot. I stride into the gym, glancing around at the workout area and see a couple guys on the machines and one in the ring. Not paying much attention to them, I climb the stairs to the attic I converted into a little apartment.
It’s not much, just a studio with a futon that doubles as my bed, a kitchenette I’ve never actually used aside from nuking the occasional plate of take-out, and a stall shower with a sink. The only other thing in the place besides the bare essentials is a dresser and a big-screen T.V. All of my worldly possessions could fit in the duffle bag I’ve got stored in the only closet. I grab the key from the counter and fly back down the stairs.
I skim over the gym again by rote and do a double take when I recognize the guy sparring in the ring.
When I was stationed in Iraq and shit was going down, time would speed up. Life-threatening decisions were made on the fly, with only seconds to consider the options at hand. But now, when I look at the man who stole my future, time slows down. I rub a hand across the itch on my neck and roll my shoulders to dispel the tension coiling there.
He doesn’t notice me, doesn’t look up from his opponent, and I’m glad for it because I’m not sure what I’d do if he did. He’s a friend, well, he was a friend. A guy I used to spar with, hang out with. The thought of him with his hands on Sofie sends a flash of red over my vision. I stand there for a few more minutes, frozen, until a group of trainees nudges me aside.
Tearing my gaze away from him, I force one foot in front of the other until I’m inside my truck and pulling out of the parking lot.
“Jack!” Donnie shrieks, jumping from the car and racing across the front yard. “Wait until you see what Sofie got us!”
I drop the board I’d just yanked from the porch on top of the pile of rotten wood and wipe the sweat dripping from my forehead. “Hey, Donnie-boy. Careful there, these still have nails in them.” I hold up a hand and ward him away from the woodpile. “What’d your sister get you?”
Rafe ambles up with a rare smile, his arms full of squirming puppy. “We got a dog!”
Scratching it’s ears, I say, “I see that. Awesome, guys.”
“Isn’t he cute?” Donnie asks.
“He’s a she,” Sofie corrects, coming up to lay a hand on Donnie’s shoulder. She turns her attention to the boys. “Why don’t you guys take her to the back yard and see if she needs to use the bathroom?”
“She means she wants to talk to Jack in private,” Rafe says.
“Backyard,” Sofie replies firmly.
The boys laugh and disappear into the house. I turn to Sofie, passing the hammer from hand to hand. “What is it, Sof? I’ve got stuff to do here.”
She tucks an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “I thought we’d come to the agreement that you didn’t need to do this.”