Chapters (14)
“I guess I don’t really know yet.” That’s the truth. “It’s too fresh.” It feels realer, here in the Tatums’ living room. The air is thick with grief, turned humid by tears.
“You on duty?” Brick says, clinking his mug against mine. Guess he noticed I’m not drinking.
“Yeah.”
“When you’re not, you should come by my place sometime.”
Wow. Brick’s place is legendary. He gets DJs up in his own house to lay a beat. I bet it’s awesome. Or would be, if I was a club-scene kinda girl. “Oh, sure.”
“I get the music going around nine.”
“Every night?”
He shrugs. “Couple times a week. When I feel like it. I usually take Sunday and Monday off.”
“That’s when you cross-stitch?”
He smirks against the rim of his mug. “Don’t knock my hobbies.” He drains his mug, then hands it to me. “Switch.”
We swap mugs, my full for his empty. He’s thoughtful. Not gonna let me turn a full cup back over to Mr. Tatum when we leave.
Brick’s hand moves up and down my back, massaging gently. It feels damn good. I ache over Shae, but some other kind of pain, some other thing dissolves away beneath his touch. I find myself gazing up at him. Who is this guy?