Page 287 of A Matter of Time

“Jo—”

“Excuse me.” Sam yawned, stepping around Brandon to walk past me into my apartment. He slapped my ass hard on his way by, and I couldn’t contain my gasp or the smile that followed.

“Who’s that?”

“That’s Sam.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “So, I’ll see ya ’round. Thanks for coming by to apologize, that was really nice of you.”

“Jory.” He reached for me as I tried to retreat into the apartment. “I want to take you⁠—”

“C’mon, Brandon,” I said softly, brushing his hand off my shoulder. “You can see I’ve got company, so⁠—”

“I’ll call you later.” He smiled and turned to go.

“No, don’t do that.”

He turned back to me. “Don’t do what?”

“Don’t call. We’re not gonna be friends, and we’re not gonna date, so there’s no point.”

He stood there staring at me. “Wow. I had no idea I only had one shot at impressing you.”

“Bran—”

“God, Jory, you should put that on cards and pass them out when you meet people.”

“Okay,” I said, closing the door.

But he hit the door before it clicked shut, and it was just dumb luck that it caught my lip and split it.

“Crap,” I groaned, pressing the back of my hand to my mouth.

“Jory,” he said, reaching for my face, “I just wanted to say some⁠—”

“What the fuck is going on?” Sam roared from the kitchen.

It was completely accidental, but Brandon wouldn’t even live long enough to explain. I looked at him with wide eyes. “Run.”

“Jory, I⁠—”

“Run.” I panicked as I heard Sam moving behind me in the apartment.

“Baby, are you—what the fuck?!” His voice dropped low, turning to ice as he charged toward me.

Brandon hit the doorframe, bounced off of it, and ran. I heard his feet pounding on the wooden floor outside in the hall, and then there was silence.

“Sam,” I called before he could get out the door, “I need you.”

He was back in front of me in seconds, his hands on my face, frowning. I grabbed hold of the lapels of his topcoat and looked up into his eyes.

“I will beat that fuck till there’s nothing left.”

I chuckled. “It was an accident.”

“What the fuck was he doin’ over here anyway? And how in the hell does he know where you fuckin’ live?” he growled at me, one hand on the side of my neck, so gentle as he looked me over. “We gotta ice that.”

“Stop swearing,” I told him. “And I’d like to point out that you know where I live too.”

“So what? You belong to me. Of course I know where you live. Are you listening to yourself?” he asked like I was addled.