Page 98 of The KING Review

My phone vibrates in my pocket.

Don’t:

hey baby

how’d it go?

I stare at the screen, thumb hovering. I want to give her the measured, adult answer. I want to be the guy who shrugs this off. But I’m not, and I know I don’t have to be, either—not with her.

Me:

Not great. Come over tonight, please? I really need to see you.

I want her with me, want to lose myself in her, let her strip away the rough edge that Marie always leaves behind.

Her reply is instant.

Don’t:

of course I will

I’ve missed you so much these last two weeks

is everything all right?

I squeeze my eyes shut and exhale. Two beats, then three.

Me:

No, not really, but I know I’ll feel better when you hold me.

The little typing dots spark up. I picture her, wherever she is, fingers tapping out words meant only for me. I can hardly believe they’re only for me.

Don’t:

I’ll hold you for as long as you want me to

as long as you need me to, baby

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Beat the Shit Out of the Entire World

Neve

The sun has just started to set when I get to Grant’s place. The hall outside his apartment smells like concrete and rain. I knock, three short taps, then wait.

There’s no response for half a beat. Then, from somewhere inside, his voice cuts through the air. “Come in.” He doesn’t sound like himself, and it makes my stomach do an ugly swoop.

I hesitate, then push the door open, stepping inside. Instantly, I know something’s off. The apartment’s a little cold, a little heavy. There’s a weird hush to the air. I pull my jacket tighter around myself on instinct. The lights are lower than usual, and there’s none of the usual sound from the TV, no music, nothing. Just this… stillness.

I find him on the sofa, slouched low, staring at nothing. Not a drink in his hand. No book. His phone is face down on the coffee table, like it’s in time out for bad behavior.

He doesn’t even look up when I come in. I mean, I know he knows I’m here, because he called for me to come in, but he’s not tracking me with that brilliant green gaze the way he usually does. It’s as if his brain’s unplugged from the world.

My chest goes tight, and I cross the room on tiptoe. “Hey.”

He blinks, as if waking from a dream. “Hey.”