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  My mouth crept up at the corner, a half grin sneaking onto my face. “So much piss.”

  She smiled. “It’s the bedrock of my charm. Pure piss.”

  “It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Well lucky for you I never plan on changing.” She looked at me meaningfully, making sure I was listening. “Or leaving.”

  I let the grin grow to a smile, reaching out to run my fingers through her hair, so soft and heavy in my palm. “So what now? What do we do now?”

  She sighed and settled into the bed, snuggling in close to my side until I could wrap my arm around her. “I don’t know, Kellen. But whatever it is, we do it together.”

  “I’m a mess, Jen,” I told her starkly.

  She reached around and laced her fingers with mine again, caging herself inside my arm. Against my chest.

  “I know,” she whispered. “But you’re my mess. My beautiful big ass mess.”

  “Can I get that on a T-shirt?”

  “I’ll put it in my wedding vows.”

  I kissed the top of her head, breathing her scent inside my lungs. Inside my soul.

  “I’m gonna hold you to that,” I promised her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jenna – One Month Later

  Christmas was less than a month away.

  I had none of my shopping done. None.

  Luckily as the weather turned and people put their skin away inside layers of clothing business at the shop slowed down. I started closing on Monday and Tuesday, opening up the doors on those days only for the odd appointment.

  Benji quit and I didn’t bother hiring anyone else. I took care of all of the ink work I could, Sam took care of the front, and if I got too many requests or got too busy I gave them Bryce’s number to call. His personal number. Told them he had plenty of time on his hands. He loved that. My old mentor and friend was quick to send me a text cursing me out.

  I didn’t stop handing out his number.

  Kellen made sure I was never alone again as I closed. Between Sam, himself, and sometimes Callum, someone was always there with me. No one would let me pay them but I started inking Callum for free to relieve my guilt.

  When the time came to close whoever was with me would lock the door, crank the music, and spend the next hour helping me clean and finish up for the night. Some nights I was lucky and I got two of them, Callum coming in with Kellen straight from the gym or Kellen and Sam splitting the work.

  Then one very lucky night I got all three.

  “No, but he’s not a robot!” Sam cried out angrily. “He had a soul!”

  “Robot!” Callum roared. “He’s a friggin’ terminator.”

  “He was sentient! Like Johnny 5.”

  “Are you fucking with me? Kellen, is she fucking with me?”

  “Sam, are you fucking with him?” I heard Kellen ask evenly.

  I was in the office with the door open as I closed out the day’s register, Callum, Kellen, and Sam arguing heatedly as they cleaned up out front. I wore a perpetual smile on my lips as I listened.

  “No,” Sam answered shortly.

  “No,” Kellen told Callum. “She’s not fucking with you.”

  “Wow,” Callum groaned. “Alright, so let me get this straight. Your argument that the Terminator had a soul is based on the fact that you think Johnny goddamn 5 was actually alive?”

  “He was sentient.”

  “He was a machine. He had no heart, no lungs, no blood. No feet.”

  “That’s your defining characteristic for humanity? For having a soul? Feet? So a guy with prosthetic feet or a woman who has amputated legs, they’re not human?”

  “That’s not—you’re twisting my—you’re trying to confuse me.”

  “You’re not making it a challenge,” Kellen warned him.

  “Shut up. Okay, I take it back.”

  Sam laughed. “Which part?”

  “The feet thing.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I stand by it. Terminator protected that boy. He loved that boy. He had a soul.”

  “I agree with her!” I shouted from the office.

  “On what possible grounds?” Kellen demanded.

  “Blade Runner!”

  “Oh, dammit.”

  “Mic drop.”

  “I’ve never heard of it,” Sam complained. “Is it a movie?”

  Callum groaned again, sounding like a wounded bear. “You’re killing me, blue eyes.”

  “It was a movie but a book first,” Kellen explained. “It’s about the blurred line between robotics and humanity. There are robots in it so real they don’t even know they’re robots. They think they’re human.”

  “Harrison Ford hunts them. He has a bunch of tests he does to find out if they’re robots or not,” Callum added. “Because there’s always a way to tell. You know why? Because they’re. Not. Human.”

  “He falls in love with one,” I shouted. “And a lot of people wonder if—“

  “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.”

  “He wasn’t a robot himself.”

  I heard a clatter, the sound of a mop handle hitting the ground, then Callum was in my doorway filling it with his stocky body.

  “Why do you love to hurt me?” he pleaded.

  I smiled up at him. “Because you’re so pretty when you cry.”

  “Get back to work!” Kellen yelled at him.

  “Hey,” Callum whispered, stepping closer. “Your girl still hung up on the douche?”

  “Carter? He wasn’t a douche and no, I don’t think so. Why?”

  He smiled broadly.

  I shook my head hard. “No.”

  “Jenna, come on. Be a bro.”

  “I’m not your bro. I’m her bro and you’re a ho so figure out the pecking order there and leave me alone.”

  “Dude, I need her,” he pleaded.

  “Yeah, for Bingo!” I hissed loudly. “I’m not serving her up to you so you can win some stupid game with your frat buddies.”

  “I can’t use her for Bingo. I already scored a black haired chick at my nail salon.”

  “Her hair isn’t—Wait, at your nail salon?”

  He shrugged like it was no big deal. “Sometimes I like to treat myself.”

  “To a manicure?”

  “Hygiene is important to me!” he whispered vehemently. “And so is this. Seriously, you gotta hook me up.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll owe you so big.”

  “You have absolutely nothing I want.”

  “Please.”

  “No.”

  “Please.”

  “No.”

  Callum paused, watching me pensively. “Please!”

  “No!”

  “Shit!”

  “What are you two yelling about?” Kellen asked, showing up in the doorway behind Callum.

  “Jenna’s freezing me out, man.”

  Kellen looked at me knowingly. “You won’t hook him up with Sam?”

  “How’d you know he asked?” I laughed.

  “He’s had a boner for her since we walked in here.”

  “Gross. And he just wants her for Bingo.”

  “I told you,” Callum moaned impatiently, “I don’t need black hair for Bingo. I already hit that. I want to go out with her because she’s cool as hell.”

  “I know, but no.”

  Callum turned to Kellen. “Talk to her for me, would you?”

  Kellen presented his knuckles to me. “Good call. Solid.”

  I bumped my knuckles against his as Callum growled and left the room, completely disgusted with us both.

  Kellen leaned against the doorframe. “You really won’t let him go out with her?”

  I shrugged. “It’s not up to me, it’s up to her. If he wants to ask her out he can be a man and do it.”

  “Guy’s got a better chance if he comes with an endorsement. Especially one from her closest friend.”

  “How would I endorse him? He’s good at karaoke and he
can eat more hot wings than a wolf?”

  “He’s a good guy.”

  “So why don’t you endorse him. Sam trusts you.”

  “And ruin my reputation?” Kellen asked with a smile. “You must be joking.”

  I picked up a stray towel and threw it at his face. “Get out of here!” I laughed.

  He caught it easily, his reflexes unnaturally strong, and tossed it back at me. I watched it land squarely on my desk behind me, and when I looked back at the doorway Kellen was gone.

  “You’re like a sexy magician!” I called after him.

  “Poof! You’re pregnant,” he called back.

  I turned in my chair to face my desk. To face the numbers that still refused to add up to anything good. Anything promising.

  “Good God, I hope not,” I muttered.

  An hour later the place was spotless, Sam had ordered a pizza, and Callum made a beer run. We sat around the store in odd spots eating and drinking, laughing and arguing as the night wore on and no one showed any interest in going home. It was the kind of night that came out of nowhere, that you weren’t planning, but somehow ended up being one of the best you’ve had in a long time.

  What happened with Kellen and I last month had been scary. Terrifying, actually. I’d played it cool and calm as best I could but as I’d taken him to bed that night and fallen asleep next to him I wondered if it’d be the last time. I didn’t know how he’d feel in the morning and when he started telling me I could go my heart had seized up in my throat until I’d nearly choked on it.

  But Kellen was a runner. A pusher. His first instinct was and maybe always would be to keep people at bay, to push us all away. So I did the only thing I could think to do. The only thing I knew the boxer in him would respond to. I pushed back.

  And I was lucky as hell that it worked.

  What he told me, the secrets he let me see, were staggering. I couldn’t think about it without crying, and I never wanted to do that in front of him. He hated pity. He hated feeling broken. He hated feeling dirty, and he really hated the thought that he was dirtying me when he touched me. So I kept my tears in check, I moved forward as though the world were not a horrible, painful place that had dealt him the unluckiest of hands, and I sighed with relief when he moved forward with me.

  And now here we were on a night like tonight, not perfect, not seamless, but strong. Happy. Free in a way we’d never been before because we weren’t separated by some great unknown. The wall had come down and we could see each other clearly. Unobstructed. No more hiding.

  We were honest. We were real.

  “Fake,” Sam droned, taking a sip of her beer.

  Callum shook his head violently. “No.”

  “You’re delusional.”

  “They’re real.”

  “Fake,” Kellen countered.

  “Judas!”

  I laughed at Callum’s outrage. “You really think Lindsey Lohan’s boobs are real?”

  “I really think they’re full of booze,” Sam chuckled.

  Kellen smiled. “And condoms full of cocaine.”

  “Hey, you guys, come on,” I scolded sternly. “Be realistic. Lindsey Lohan doesn’t use condoms.”

  The room erupted in laughter. Callum flipped me off, Sam toasted me with her beer, and Kellen stood up abruptly, reaching for his phone.

  “Holy shit,” he muttered, lighting up the screen.

  I watched him anxiously. “What? What is it?”

  “It’s the firehouse.” He swiped his finger, answering the call and disappearing to the other side of the building where we could barely see him in the dark. We definitely couldn’t hear him.

  “Is that his first call?” Sam asked in hushed tone.

  I nodded numbly, my eyes on his shadow. “Yeah. He’s been busy with the EMT gig but he hasn’t had a single call from the fire department.”

  “I wonder what happened,” Callum mused. “Volunteers are usually busy during the summer with the wild fires. It’s crazy that he’s getting the call in December.”

  Kellen came running back through the building, kissing me quickly on the forehead as he passed, and heading for the front door. “I gotta go,” he told us hurriedly.

  “What happened?” Callum asked.

  “A house caught fire and it’s out of control. It’s spreading to the houses next door.” He threw his jacket on. “They need all hands on deck.”

  “How did it start?”

  “Christmas tree lights more than likely. I’ll see you guys later!” he shouted excitedly, pulling open the front door.

  I stood up, unsure why but unable to stop. “Be safe,” I pleaded breathlessly.

  Kellen stopped to look at me. To read my face. He let the door swing closed as he crossed the room, took my face in his hands, and kissed me gently.

  “I’ll be home tonight,” he promised on a whisper. “Wait up for me?”

  “Yes.”

  He kissed me again before turning on his heel and leaving without another word.

  ***

  I couldn’t have slept if I tried. I paced Kellen’s apartment nervously, freezing anytime I heard a noise outside. I missed the days when he rode his motorcycle. The old Harley had announced his presence like a drumroll, but he stopped riding after the accident. He said his brains were scrambled once, he wasn’t looking to have it done again. I liked that reason. I loved it, in fact. Huge supporter of keeping his big beautiful brain intact.

  But sometimes I still missed the way things used to be.

  Keys jingled in the door.

  I stood breathless in the living room, waiting. I knew it was him. No one had keys to his apartment but the two of us, but still I was anxious and I felt no relief until I saw him fill the frame. So tall. So broad and strong and alive.

  I laughed shakily, pressing my hand to my mouth to silence the strange sound.

  Kellen looked up and smiled tiredly. “Hey, Jen.”

  I laughed again, dropping my hand and giving up on hiding my mixed bag of emotions. “Hey, Kel. How was work?”

  “Awesome,” he beamed. He hooked his coat and keys by the door – on his hook – and roughed his hand through his hair. “I smell awful, sorry. I could have showered at the station but I wanted to get home. I knew you’d be up worrying.”

  “Only a lot.”

  “Yeah. I figured.”

  “So, now that I know you survived it give me the details. What happened? Was anyone hurt?”

  He came and sat down on the couch, taking my hand and pulling me down across from him. “Nah, everyone got out. Two trucks and a couple ambulances were on the scene by the time my truck got there. They thought they had it under control before they called us in but then the second house started catching and they knew it was getting away from them.”

  “Did you go inside?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. We were put on the second house to contain it. We got it under control before it made it to the roof.” He grinned. “I got to hold the hose, though.”

  “Damn,” I laughed. “First day and they let you have the big guns?”

  “I asked nicely.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I asked the guy, ‘Can I please hold the hose?’. He handed it over and told me I had to share with the other kids.”

  “So you took turns?”

  “We did. It was good. There were some good guys there. I knew a couple of the EMTs in the buses.” He groaned, sitting back and stretching his muscles out. “When we got back to the firehouse the other volunteers said they were going out for beers.”

  “Why didn’t you go?”

  He stopped stretching, slumped back into the couch, and reached for me. “Because I’d rather be here with you.”

  I smiled as I crept into his lap. As I settled into his side and felt his arm fall heavy around me. Felt his heartbeat strong and steady through his sweat soaked shirt. He was right – he stank. But it was a stink I was used to. One I sort of enjoyed. It smelled like Kellen when he w
as fresh from the ring. When he was a boxer and a brawler.

  A fucking fighter to the blood and bone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kellen

  “Get something huge,” Callum suggested. “Something embarrassingly big.”

  “I don’t think ‘embarrassingly big’ is in the budget,” Sam cautioned from where she stood between us.

  Callum snorted but he didn’t say anything. I was grateful for that. I didn’t want to have to punch him in the face in front of Sam.

  Callum, Jenna, and her dad who was also my lawyer were the only people who knew about the massive savings account with my name on it, and I wanted to keep it that way. It grew every month as my dad relentlessly made deposits, despite the fact that I relentlessly gave the money away to charities. Eight thousand eight hundred eighty eight dollars and eighty eight cents every month. Always the same amount every single month since the day I was born on August 8th. It was the only reliable thing about the son of a bitch.

  “I was thinking subtle,” I warned Callum.

  He chuckled, stuffing his large hands in the pockets of his jeans. “If you want subtle you invited the wrong guy to help you.”

  “I didn’t invite you at all. You don’t know shit about any of this.”

  “I know more than you do,” he mumbled.

  “How? How in the hell is that true? I’ve already done this once before.”

  “I wouldn’t be too proud of that,” Sam muttered under her breath.

  I rubbed my hands together slowly, erasing the nervous energy building in my palms. “Low blow, but good point.”

  “Is this the same place you got Laney’s ring?” Callum asked.

  Sam elbowed him in the side roughly. I was more grateful than ever that I’d brought her.

  The three of us stood in front of a glowing glass bay of jewelry, the words ENGAGEMENT RINGS written boldly across a sign hanging in my face. I glared at it, resenting its enthusiasm. It reminded me of the last time, the day I’d bought Laney’s engagement ring at another store. She’d been to the store without me to pick one out – at her own insistence, never mine – and when she came over that night she handed me a hold slip with her ring size written on it. I went down the next day and bought the thing, my stomach a roiling, angry mess of nerves and resentment. I could still feel the chalky taste in my mouth from the Tums I was constantly eating as my stomach lining slowly faded away with every bad decision I made. With every shovel full of shit I buried myself under.