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I pulled my jeans back on and slipped into my boots, leaving them unlaced. I headed out of the shop, Queen following close behind. It was just barely dawn, the birds started chirping, and the sky started to brighten. It was hot outside still; even the night couldn’t dampen the hot nights, but I could feel a slight breeze as I walked to the house.
Every step I took had boards creaking. I thought about the tools I would need to fix it. I used the downstairs bathroom before heading to the kitchen, opening the cupboards till I found a glass and filling it up from the tap, drinking greedily.
Queen joined in on the drinking, lapping up her bowl of water. I remembered when Wren and I had found a litter of puppies abandoned by the train tracks. We had wanted to keep one so badly but didn’t dare try. We both knew money was extremely tight, and adding another mouth to feed would have just been selfish on our part.
I was glad she had dogs now. Glad she had someone to keep her company.
Nails clacked on the floor, and soon King was downstairs, his tail high before he laid eyes on the two of us. Queen chuffed and King relaxed, his tail wagging.
“Where’s your mom?” I asked King. The shepherd stared at me before turning around and leaving the kitchen.
I started up the coffee machine and poured two cups, then hesitated; did she still take it black? Before I could question it any longer, I took the two mugs toward the front of the house.
In the living room, Wren lay out on the couch, her arms crossed and head tilted against it. King was lying on the floor by her.
I was surprised to find her asleep. Her hair was a mess. It splayed across the cushion in messy curls. Her lips were slightly parted, and her chest was rising and falling.
When she first moved in with me and Ma, she’d slept for a week straight. After she had rested, she became restless. Even the slightest noise would wake her. The nightmares would keep her up.
I wondered how bad they had been over the last six years.
Wren startled awake, shooting upward, causing even King to jump.
“Shit, Alex!” She clutched her chest, steadying her breath.
“I’m sorry.” I raised the mugs in my hand. “I didn’t think you slept this long.”
She grabbed her phone off the coffee table and looked at the time. It was only seven in the morning; I had already been up for two hours, still used to prison wake-up.
“I didn’t sleep much,”she said, her voice groggy.
“Why are you out on the couch?” I handed her the mug. She clasped it with both hands, taking a sip, humming her appreciation. It satisfied me that I still knew how she took her coffee.
She rubbed her eyes with one hand. Something in me softened at the sight. Even six years later, this was familiar. She was wearing shorts and an oversized T-shirt with the neck cut out. Disappointment slashed through me when I didn’t recognize the shirt.
“I was waiting for you to come in. I wanted to talk to you about. . .everything.” She turned so she sat right on the couch. “Must have fallen asleep out here. Did you come in last night? How was the guest room?” She stood and moved around thecouch. King followed her to the window, where she opened the blinds, letting the sun in.
“It was fine,” I lied.
Her nipples pebbled beneath the shirt, making it obvious that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Before, I would look away. I never wanted her to feel self-conscious or like she needed to cover up from me. I was respectful of her and never wanted her to feel uncomfortable.
Now, I blatantly stared.
Looking away from her beauty would be a crime in itself.
I cocked an eyebrow at her as she sat cross-legged back on the couch, the confusion clear on her face before she looked down, seeing what I saw.
The ghost of a memory landed on my tongue. The first and last time I tasted her. I could hear her moan at the back of my mind when I sucked harder or ran my teeth over her nipples.
“Not as gentlemanly, I see.” She covered herself with her arms. I dropped my gaze, taking a sip of my coffee. “Those years in prison didn’t do much for your manners.” I could hear the smile in her voice and almost choked on the coffee.
“You give me too much credit. I was never a gentleman. I was just a nervous kid.”
“I don’t remember you being nervous at all.”
“Oh, how do you remember me?”
“Alex, we need to talk.”
