Page 87 of Shattered Veil

It was a shock that I didn’t keel over—hands on my knees, gasping for breath as the gut punch of his gratefulness knocked the wind out of me. Instead, I swallowed, set my knife down with a clack against the granite, and steadied myself with both of my hands splayed out on the counter.

“I’m really not,” I replied as casually as I could muster.

He rolled his eyes in return, clearly assuming that I was taking a stance of humility.

“Look, I’d stay, but I gotta get some studying in. I have an exam on Monday, and I’m behind,” he told me with an apology in his voice.

Of course he did. He didn’t speak of them much, but his studies kept him rather busy…and his mention of them made me recall the stress of obtaining a college education. The worry of learning and maintaining the knowledge—of putting your skills to the test by placing pencil to paper—of just wanting to be done so the constant weight of it all could be over. My experience wasn’t comparable to Liam’s, though. Not in the least. Not only had I gone through my college years by the time that I was Cassie’s age rather than his more mature twenty-six, but I had little else to concern myself over.

I didn’t have to worry about employment; Liam hopped around working contract construction jobs to make ends meet. I didn’t have to pay rent. I didn’t have a girlfriend who murdered her stalker. I didn’t have a friend who was fucking my little sister behind my back.

You know. The little things.

Liam mumbled, “This shit has me so fuckin’ distracted.”

“I’m sorry, man. Which class?”

“Oh, um,” he hesitated as if he weren’t anticipating the question and gave me a grin as he recited, “The Youthful Mind and Children’s Literature.”

I immediately pictured his large body squat on a stool made for someone a third his size, enthusiastically reading an illustrated book to a horde of small children.

Elementary education would suit him.

Willing the thoughts of worry away, I found a smirk pulling at my mouth as I remarked, “Yeah, I’d help you study, but I don’t think I’d do any good there.”

His grin grew, and he waved me away as he stated, “Zo’ made me flashcards. I should be fine.”

I chuckled. “Flashcards, huh?”

A dimple formed on his right cheek. “Uh huh. And a checklist for all my shit to finish before graduation.”

Nodding, I asked, “Next month?”

“Yup,” he replied happily, popping the p.

Cassie interrupted our oddly pleasant conversation with, “Ya gonna chop anything but that pepper, or what?”

We each turned our heads to see her having crept up on us—barefoot and comfortable, she was leaning a shoulder against the wall at the edge of the kitchen. She had tied her hair back—pulled away from her face in a perfectly messy knot at the base of her neck. Arms crossed, her eyebrows rose as she looked at me with her typical challenging expression.

Liam quipped to me, “If she drives ya nuts, send her across the hall.” Her eyes shot to the ceiling, and I didn’t get a chance to say so much as, ‘I think I’ll live,’ or, ‘Ha. Okay,’ because he followed it up with, “I’m outta here, Cas.”

“Flashcards?” she asked knowingly.

“Flashcards,” he confirmed. “You call your friend?”

Cassie shook her head. “Texted. She’s busy. Maintenance at her apartment—it’s a whole thing. She’ll get back to me. I’ll let you know.”

He gave her a curt nod, saying, “’Kay, good.” Walking toward the front door, he lifted a hand to waggle his fingers at her over his shoulder. “Later.”

“Byeeee,” she sang, splitting the word into two syllables, and when the door shut behind him, she asked, “You want me to grab you an onion or something?”

“We need to tell him,” I groaned.

“I was assuming that we both still thought that now was a bad time.”

“I do,” I agreed. “I do. It would be bad. Like, the poor man’s fucking brain would explode from being overwhelmed bad, but…God, Cas, he called me a good friend.”

Her warm eyes showed me sympathy. “You are a good—”

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