Page 62 of Reckoning

I laughed and took the glass. “You’re calling that a date? You took me to get the morning after pill because you—”

“Don’t.” He set down the glass he was pouring for himself and took my arm, pulling me against him. “Don’t talk about what we did unless you want me to do it again right now.”

His eyes burned into me, and I believed he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from carrying me to his bedroom and taking us all the way. I nodded and took a sip. He stared at me a moment longer before releasing me and picking up his own glass. “Let’s sit.”

He turned on the gas fireplace but then shoved the armchairs sitting in front of it aside and dragged over the low couch instead, positioning it a little farther back from the flames than the chairs had been. I guessed the heat made him uncomfortable, but he seemed mesmerized by the fire. We sat next to each other, his hand dragging lazily up and down my left thigh while we sipped.

“That’s how I’ve always thought of you. My Maddie.” He didn’t look at me as he spoke, staring instead at the amber liquid we were drinking. “I only called you Mads because it pissed you off. The night I took the pills, I figured there was nothing left to lose. I wanted to call you that at least once.”

I twisted my feet underneath me, my knees resting on his thigh as I turned to face him. “Why was it so important to piss me off at first?”

A shrug. “I wanted to punish you. For having something I never did.”

My mother’s face flashed in my mind. I tried to imagine her with Meyer as a child, teaching him the alphabet and how to count. Crying the first day he went off to school. Helping him with his homework. “You gave her a reason to be happy here.”

“Then why didn’t she stay?”

The glass paused partway to my lips. “Are you seriously asking that?”

“She didn’t need to be so difficult with Conrad. Maybe if she’d tried a little—”

I threw my drink in his face. His free hand lashed out to grab my wrist, squeezing until I dropped the glass. “Was that necessary?”

“Fuck you. You of all people should know better than to say something like that.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He let me go only to shove me away, and I stood to get away from him. He wiped one hand across his face, eyes blazing again with simmering anger. Violence he kept barely tamped down, even after what we’d just gone through

“I told you, Meyer, this act is getting old. You have to know my mom wasn’t living with you because she wanted to. She was a teenager!”

“She was old enough to make her own choices, just like you are now.” His golden hair shimmered as he finished his drink and stood, turning off the fireplace and dousing us in darkness. “You can sleep on the floor again tonight.”

“I don’t want to lie next to you anyway!” I shouted at his back as he went toward his bedroom, frustrated by how ineffectual my words seemed. What, as if he was really going to sleep without me? He wanted to attach us at the hip. I slumped back into the couch and folded my arms, wishing I had a blanket. No way was I going to lay on the floor and give him the chance to offer me the bed in exchange for a blow job or an apology. I wasn’t sure which I would prefer.

*

Sounds from the kitchen woke me the next morning, and I opened my eyes to a steaming cup of coffee on the floor near where my head was laying. Meyer looked down at me as he sipped his own, already dressed and ready for the day. I sat up halfway and reached for the coffee, only for him to tip it over with his toe at the last second. I glared.

“Childish much?”

“I told you to sleep on the floor.”

“Fuck off.” I rose to my feet and stomped to the bedroom, realizing halfway there that I was still wearing his socks. I hopped on one foot and then the other as I pulled them off, throwing them back in his direction. “Aren’t you going to be late?”

“You’re the one who slept in.” He glanced at his watch as he followed me to the bedroom, ignoring the socks. “There are some skirts and blouses in the closet. I told you, you’re coming with me.”

I grumbled as I made my way to the closet, finding the clothes just as he said near the back, all with the tags still on. “You’ve had these for a while?”

“Since you got here. I told you, I never intended to let you leave.”

Grabbing a black skirt and white long-sleeved blouse, I stalked to the closet door and closed it in his face so I could change. When I stepped out a few minutes later, he was standing in the same position with a new cup of coffee in his hand, which he extended toward me. I took it with the tips of my fingers, wondering if he was going to throw it on me.

He grinned. “Don’t worry. No tit for tat, not with something that would burn you. I might come on your face later tonight, though.”

“You will do no such thing. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“You don’t want makeup?”

“Nope. Bare minimum. Not like I’m going to see anyone I care about.”

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