“So you’re good at fixing things?” Ben asks, tilting his chin.
Justin nods with an air of indifference. “Almost the best.”
After adjusting his glasses, Ben jumps off the stool. “Then you gotta come to my room and help me.”
“You need something fixed?” Justin asks him but looks to me.
I nod an okay as Ben yells from the hallway, “Something super important!”
Justin turns the burner off under the grilled cheese. “Be right back.”
Once they’re gone, my father comes and stands on the other side of the peninsula. Obviously upset with me, he’s even more intimidating in his Sunday khakis and a button-up dress shirt. He usually wears jeans and a flannel over an old T-shirt.
“It’s not what you think. We’ve been dating for a while,” I say, wishing I could melt into the floor. If there’s one person I don’t like letting down, it’s my father.
He lets out a sigh. “I’m not judging you, Allie. It’s not my place, but haven’t you been down this road? I was hoping you’d wait for marriage this time around.”
Staring at the counter, I can’t think of anything to say. I wanted to wait, but Justin blew into my life like a new song I became obsessed with overnight.
My father comes around the peninsula and lifts my chin gently. “For others to respect you, you have to respect yourself the most. Think about that.” He kisses my forehead and I tremble as he walks back to the door. “Take care of my boy,” he says like he always does when he leaves.
I stand in the middle of the kitchen until I notice the smell of burning tomato soup and notice that it’s bubbling and spitting all over the stove. I move the pan off the burner, wipe up the mess, and lean on the counter. The day is only half over, and so far it’s been a roller coaster of emotion. After a few deep, calming breaths, I find another can of soup and the ingredients for another grilled cheese for Ben.
My father’s words echo in my head as I turn the heat on again under the sandwiches and stir the soup. Though I do believe Justin respects me, I’m aware we are moving too fast. I dated Trevor for over a year in high school, then four months prior to getting married. Obviously, I should have taken more time then too. But with Trevor, I always had a desperate obsession with holding on to him, as if our connection were something that could slip through my fingers if I looked away for even a second. My obsession with Justin is entirely different. I want to be with him. I want to know everything about him. I want him to know everything about me. But I don’t have the need to hold on to him with a death grip. Because our connection feels mutual.
I’m about to get Justin and Ben, whom I suspect are working on the bridge Ben has been trying to create with his erector set, when my phone rings. Trevor’s number flashes across the screen. Knowing he’ll keep calling, I force myself to answer it.
Before I can even get out a hello he says, “Do you know how pissed I am?”
Imagining his bloody nose and battered face, I can imagine. My jaw clenches at the aggressive tone in his voice. “Just get to the point.”
“I’m getting a lawyer on Monday.”
“Good, you’re going to need—”
“And getting custody of my son.”
I clutch the counter so I don’t fall. The kitchen rug, the world,—actually, even gravity—feel ripped from under me. Breathe, Al. He’s angry and spouting crap. “What are you talking about?”
“Then I’m getting the shop back.”
The shop isn’t even on my radar. “Why would you even think you could get custody? He hardly knows you. You hardly know him,” I snap. Now I’m getting angry. “Is this your deranged idea of revenge?”
“You want to be a bitch?” he hisses. “You want to date some douche bag? Then I’m going to fuck your world up.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Douche bag and his buddy better not press charges against me.”
“Or what?”
“Think about what I said,” he growls before hanging up on me.
Fury pounds through me as I stare at my phone screen. Custody? He’s lost his mind.
Furious, I call him back. Of course he doesn’t answer.
I’m about to destroy my kitchen—throw soup against the wall and smash grilled cheese under my feet—but instead lean against the counter and take deep breaths.
The soft murmur of conversation comes to me from the hallway as Justin and Ben make their way toward the kitchen.
I take in one last gulp of air and say pleasantly, “Lunch is ready. Go wash your hands, Ben.”
With a scowl etching his face, Ben turns back toward the bathroom. Justin studies me for a long moment. “Everything okay?”
Forcing a smile, I nod.
Inside, I’m a screaming mess.
Chapter 29
Justin
We’re all sitting around Allie’s drawing desk on Monday afternoon. Todd’s on his third piece of pizza. Shaya is on her second. Allie is still picking at her first. We’d planned this lunch last week, but Allie was surprised when I showed up with two pizza boxes. Todd and Shaya had been ecstatic.
Allie has also been quiet and distant.
Yesterday, after our surprise lunch with Ben, she’d been quiet too as she drove me back to the dorm. I chalked it up to Ben’s nonstop chatter and that she was freaked out her father walked in while I was there, shirtless no less. When I texted her late last night she seemed fine, but today I’m wondering if there’s more going on than her Dad’s disapproval.
I can’t help blaming her quietness on my big fucking mouth. I should have never told her I was falling in love, but in the heat of the moment, the words felt so right. So true.
Never said them before.
Now they’re biting me in the ass.
Beyond tense, I roll my paper plate and force myself to listen to Todd’s story about a customer from last night.
“So I’m kickin’ it to third,” Todd says, still chomping on pepperoni and sausage. “Pounding skin when the fucker passes out.” He swallows and then laughs. “Almost falls out of the chair.”
I’m guessing pounding skin means he was inking at a high speed.
Shaya giggles, causing her curls to bounce. “He says it calmly, but he screamed like a ten-year-old for me to get in there last night.”
Allie’s forehead wrinkles. Though she hasn’t said more than two words so far, she asks, “Why would you push ink like that?”
“Well, he came in at five to nine.”
Allie glares at him. “We take work until nine.”
“Yeah, but this ass wanted a three-hour job and beyond that his back was already almost entirely engraved. How was I to know he needed a pussy ball?”
At my raised eyebrow Shaya explains, “A tennis ball to hold for pain.”
Todd folds another slice of pizza in half. “He was fine until the fainting thing.”
Allie gives me a weak smile, then her mouth curls in a scowl at Todd.
“Hey, he finished,” Todd says.
“Our first wrastler!” Shaya says with a giggle.
“What’s a wrastler?” I ask.
Allie drops a nibbled-on crust on her plate and glares at Shaya. “It’s not funny.”
Shaya rolls her eyes. “Somebody who faints but finishes,” she replies in a tone that declares the meaning should be obvious.
“Todd,” Allie says irritably, “unless it’s one of your regulars, do not ever kick it to third on someone again.”
Todd scrunches his nose at her, reaching for another slice of pizza. “I’m not a hacker, Al.”
“Then don’t act like one,” she snaps.
Other than the ever-present music playing, the shop is quiet while Shaya and Todd stare at Allie like she’s grown two heads. Apparently, her snapping at them isn’t normal. Finally, Todd shrugs and stuffs pizza in his mouth. Shaya turns to me.