“I think you’re better than Bruce Wayne.”
My eyes flare, and my eyebrows pop high on my forehead. “Bruce Wayne saves people. He’s a hero,” I say.
Hunter grins, and pulls me close enough that our mouths touch. When he’s there, he doesn’t kiss me, but keeps on speaking. “Baby, you saved me that day in the hall.”
Fraking hell, there’s no way I’m running from him now.
I just got home from work and I’m not expecting company. That knock on the door comes again, more insistent this time.
Hunter won’t be home for a couple of hours, and my friends have been AWOL with the exception of Katie, who I get texts from on a regular basis. I look over into my kitchen, wondering if I should zip in and grab a knife from the drawer, the real sharp kind that has scalpel-like properties.
I ninja creep to the peephole, holding my breath and stare through it. I fall back on my heels a bit too hard from surprise, cracking my ankles. I unlock the door, and usher Tommy in with my empty hands. Lucky for him I don’t have any weapons.
“Thanks,” he says, and even that word infuriates me. I give his shoes a scathing look, and he gets the unspoken message to take them off.
“And to what do I owe this pleasure, Russia?” I move to the living room (safer for him) and sit on my couch. I watch him toe his shoes off, and stare around my place, looking more than a little apprehensive.
We are alone, and I did try to punch his face in.
Tommy sighs, joining me on my couch, making sure he’s on the far end.
“I volunteered to bring the happy news,” he says, eyes settling on his thighs, rubbing up and down on his slacks.
I really, really wish I could pop an eyebrow up.
“You’ve decided to get a vasectomy so you don’t breed?” I suggest.
The way his shoulders tense up a little and his body stiffens makes me feel like a bitch, but tough. I didn’t fraking ask him to say those things to Hunter, or to me.
“I deserve that. I really do.” He looks at me like I’m going to protest this statement. “I came to tell you that Alex and Teresa have gotten engaged.”
“WHAT!?!” Tommy flinches at the sound barrier I have broken with only my voice, and watches me as I get up from the couch and hop up and down, booty shaking and all. “Are you kidding me? When? Where? Did he get down on one knee and everything?!”
Tommy’s face is impossible to read. Stoic yes, but there might as well be a stone wall between us for all the good it does me to try and read him.
“Earth to Russia, what the hell? You gonna answer my questions, or do I have to start making calls?” I ask, waving a hand in front of his face.
His eyes are soft when he finally focuses on me. “I’m sorry I was a fucking asshole last time. There’s no excuse for what I said. I know I’m sorry doesn’t cover what I did, or how I treated you, but I hope that punch made you feel better. How’s your hand by the way?” Russia and remorse do not go together, but here he is.
“Cast came off three weeks ago.” Now he’s acting weird. Maybe he’s never apologized before, like really apologized. His words are stilted like he’s never used them before.
“I was a dick and an asshole, and whatever other word you want to use to describe me.”
“Then why in hell did you say it? Why did you say those things to me?”
He winces, and looks away. “It sort of just came out, you know?”
I cross my arms over my chest, and join him on the couch in the furthest seat away from him.
“Fuck, I just saw you bring the plate to him, and I know how you make a giant fuss when one of us cracks a joke about it. And you know how sexy my imagination is, everything turns to that, and it just popped out of my mouth, and fuck, your face. It was like you didn’t know whether to be angry or start crying. That look was hard to take. I didn’t sleep well that night, let me tell you.”
“Good. And for the record, when I was staring at you, I was plotting your death.”
Tommy grimaces and rubs his mouth. Stares out to my balcony, refusing to make eye contact with me. “Was it bad?”
“It was more of a feed your own guts to you variety. It was very therapeutic at the time before I decided to bust your face in.”
He lets out a little yelp of surprised laughter. “I had to tell my boss I got an elbow in the face playing soccer.”
“Did he believe it?”
Tommy shrugs and finally looks at me. “I think so. I mean, not a lot of people would believe a friend would do that to me.”
“They would’ve asked for the reason behind it, and you know it. Always covering your own ass. How are you going to get a girl like that?”