Page 64 of Something Good
The poundingin my head just wouldn’t quit. Or maybe the pounding was coming from my front door. Blearily, I opened one eye, squinting against the sun streaming through the window of my loft bedroom. The pounding started again, and this time, it was evident it was coming from both my head and front door.
Restless and agitated, I’d thought heading to the club last night would be a good distraction. I’d had a couple of drinks, danced with a group of shirtless lawyers, and even turned down an offer to fuck in the back alley, but none of that was distraction enough to erase the memory of the look on Will’s face just before he climbed into his truck and backed out of my driveway Thursday night. When I’d realized the club wouldn’t provide the distraction I’d hoped for, I’d headed home and showered, then spent a couple of hours in my studio sketching drawings for upcoming projects. So, despite having had a couple of drinks last night, I suspected this morning’s headache was the result of a combination of working myself too hard and not getting enough sleep rather than consuming copious amounts of alcohol.
At the sound of the front door opening, I groaned. There was only one person who had a key to my apartment, and sureenough, Jimmy walked into my bedroom, his face pinched in an odd mix of worry and irritation as he took in my bare ass sprawled across the covers.
“Ugh. No one wants to see your pasty ass in broad daylight. Put on some clothes.”
“If you don’t wanna see my pasty ass, as you put it, then don’t come barging in here at… What time is it anyway?”
“It’s ten-thirty. You were supposed to meet me at Hash an hour ago.”
Fuck. I forgot Jimmy and I planned brunch this morning. My head had been all over the place since I saw Will Thursday night.
“Give me ten minutes, and I’ll be ready to go.”
“Are you sure?” His expression transformed from one of irritation to concern. “You’ve clearly got some shit going on here. We can stay in if you’d rather…”
“No, no. We can go.” My stomach rumbled at the thought of food. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten anything substantial. “Just give me ten minutes.”
When he remained standing, staring at me without moving, I cocked an eyebrow. “If you don’t like the sight of my bare ass, you’re really not going to like it when I climb outta this bed.”
“Ugh. Why does my brother have to be such a pig?”
I smirked as he turned and walked out with a huff. Most of the time, Jimmy was content to be a bit of an introverted wallflower, but every once in a while, he turned up the sassy twink energy. It never failed to make me smile, even if it made him a pain in my ass.
We walked the couple of blocks to Hash, putting our name on the list and then grabbing coffees while we stood outside to enjoy the beautiful spring weather as we waited for a table. I eyed Jimmy while he eyed me right back, both of us trying to figure out where to start the conversation. He’d been cagey withme lately, avoiding any mention of Steven, while I’d done a bit of the same with the topic of Will.
Will’s visit Thursday evening had left me with such a jumbled mess of feelings. And I hated feelings. They were messy and complicated and made me feel out of control. I’d spent years trying to figure out a healthy way to deal with them. Or, more realistically, to bury them. And while I was in a much better place now than I had been ten years ago, I couldn’t say that I completely had a handle on my feelings when it came to Will. I was starting to think I never would.
“Did you go out last night?” Jimmy finally broke the silence. “Is that why I found you ass up in bed after you stood me up this morning?”
“Wow. Laying it on a little thick this morning, don’t you think?”
He rolled his eyes dramatically while he sipped his coffee. “An hour, Sammy. I waited here for anhour.”
Guilt rolled through me. Jimmy was in a much better place with his anxiety these days, but I knew he worried when he didn’t hear from me. And with or without the anxiety, he didn’t deserve to wait for an hour without hearing from me.
“I’m sorry I left you hanging. It was a shitty thing to do.” He nodded in acknowledgment of my apology. “And to answer your question. Yeah, I went out. But I was home by midnight. That wasn’t the reason I overslept. I just haven’t slept well this week, and I was exhausted.” I still had a bit of a headache, but the coffee was helping.
“What’s kept you from sleeping?”
“I saw Will Thursday night.”
Silence. Except the arch of his brow that said everything his words didn’t.
I huffed out a breath. “I donated an introduction to welding session for the hospital charity auction a couple of weeks ago, and Will bid on it, not knowing I was the artist.”
“So he just showed up to claim his prize, andsurprise, Sammy and Will are reunited at last?”
I would have laughed at his dramatics if I’d thought anything about this situation was even remotely funny. “Reunited is definitely not the word I’d choose. Honestly, I’d completely forgotten about the donation until I got an email on Monday. One of the event organizers contacted me and asked if I’d get in touch with Will Hartley to set up his session. I was floored when I saw his name.”
“And he really had no idea you were the artist?” He raised a skeptical brow. I swear Jimmy could say more with his eyebrows than his words some days.
“He said he didn’t. And my picture wasn’t on any of the promotional stuff for the auction. It was just my S. Jo branding and logo. I don’t have any reason to suspect he wasn’t being honest.”
“So, how was it seeing him again?” This time, his face didn’t give away anything as he sipped his coffee, waiting for my response.
My phone buzzed with a text saying our table was ready, saving me from an immediate response to his question. As we settled in our booth and looked over the menu, I debated my answer to his question, knowing he wouldn’t let it go.
