Page 69 of Second Story

“It’s plenty big enough.” I show him, giving Joe a whistle-stop tour of a kitchen, of a bathroom, and of where my throat tightens.

“Lenny’s room,” Joe says from beside me in the doorway of a bedroom decorated with stars and planets and spaceships. “You made it really nice for him.”

“It wasn’t me. Hayden’s boyfriend painted the mural. Ruth found the same fabric as his bedding for the curtains.” I point to a toy box. “Luke brought over a ton of action figures.” Pretty much every teacher has popped in with welcome presents. “But Len’s refusing to move in while Tor is still a boarder. Once his parents come back to the mainland and Tor goes home, he’ll probably change his mind and move in with me.”

I tell him what still feels weird to me.

“The first time I almost left home, I ended up staying to help Mum. The second time, you came to get me when I’d only been gone for a few months. Now I finally got my own place like I always wanted, and I don’t like it. Being alone, I mean.” I finally say what has beenon my mind since the video call ended. “I think Mum wants to see me without Len because she’s definitely made her mind up. She’s gonna plead guilty and hope for a lesser sentence, all so that she doesn’t have to name someone who could take it out on us. Her doing that will still mean years for Len without her.”

“And for you.”

I don’t care about myself.

Joe does.

“You don’t have to be alone with that. You don’t have to face any of it all by yourself. I’m not going anywhere.” His lips brush where my jaw hinges, his breath across my ear warm and tingling. His lips linger, and I have to close my eyes against this much sensation. Against what else he tells me. “I mean, I know I’m only here until Thursday to get to know the sixth-form students, and I’m staying at the Rectory, but we could make it work after that. I’ve got one hell of an incentive to try. Two of them.” His teeth find the edge of my ear. “If you wanted.”

The tip of his tongue melts me.

I melt even more at how much I do want him around for longer, and fuck history repeating like it did for someone whose only crime was falling head over heels for the wrong person.

Joe’s different.

He can’t be bad news like Mum’s exes, and he definitely isn’t unwanted, like his family seem to have convinced him.

This comes out louder than I intended. “Come with me when I visit? I mean, it’s probably too late to add you to her visitor list, but?—”

“You would if you could? You’d ask her to add me?”

I nod. “For next time. But I could meet you after my visit this weekend, if you aren’t busy painting with your fam.”

“Painting?” He snorts, then looks anywhere but at me. “I won’t be. I’ll only be busy on Friday morning, dodging more hot chocolate. I can’t miss that. It’s Kwasi’s last chance to face his fear in private.”At least Joe holds me again, bringing his mouth to my ear as if he can’t risk anyone overhearing. “You’d really want me with you?”

“Y-yes.” I’d sound more definite if he didn’t breathe across my ear all over again. My knees almost buckle at the sensation. “Yes,” I say more firmly. “Who wouldn’t?”

Everything I’ve noticed floods back like waves did my first night in Cornwall.

“Does your fam really still give you shit because of these?” I’d never want to hurt him, but I risk touching the edge of where acid splashed him. Each mark on his skin is his reason for being gentle. He knows pain I can’t even imagine and found more strength through surviving than I could hope to fathom.

I find more strength of my own then, and yeah, Joe’s a solid fucker, dark and dangerous at first glance. If he’d prowled my way late at night in our part of London, I would have run in the other direction. Here, in a Cornish hallway, he doesn’t scareme. I’m only scared that he doesn’t believe what I grit out while backing him towards my bedroom.

“They should hold it against whoever did this to you. Prison’s too good for them. I’d take down every single thing they valued. Burn it all down.” How often have I thought this for Mum? “You know what I’d leave behind? Fucking ashes. That’s what your family should want to do for you.” I cup his face with both hands so he can’t avoid this. “And they should miss you like I did.”

Forget Joe being gentle.

I’m pressed up against the hallway wall so fast it’s almost violent.

My breath gets knocked from me, and he’s between my legs, kissing for so long I’m almost smothered, and there’s no breaking free from this hold, this iron grip that hooks my thighs and hoists me like I weigh nothing as he backs into my bedroom with his mouth still fixed to mine.

And forget Mum teaching me that history always repeats. Yes, Joe dropped me once.

He drops me again now, only this time he doesn’t leave without looking back.

Today, my back hits a mattress, and he joins me.

19

ISAAC

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