Page 43 of Close Quarters

“Come back to reality?” Max asked, and I grimaced inwardly.

“Just thinking,” I muttered, bowing my head so he couldn’t see how red my face was.

“Seems like you do too much of that already.”

“Why because I’m quiet? You don’t have room to talk.”

“Yeah, speaking from personal experience.”

“I don’t think too much.”

“Really? Is that why you look like shit?”

“What the fuck?”

He eyed me, smirking. “Seriously? You’ve looked in a mirror lately, right?”

“I look fine,” I grumbled, shoving the pitchfork into the nearest pile and grunting when I hit hard-packed dirt.

“Right, you don’t look like you haven’t seen this side of a good night’s sleep in ages,” he said, sounding disinterested.

“Elliot stays up half the night, and I don’t hear anyone giving him shit,” I snapped. It was true, the idiot stayed up until the late hours, and then it was a fight and a half to get him out of bed. Lately, I’d taken to dragging him out of bed since the allure of a comfortable pillow and blanket seemed to be what kept him repeatedly trying to doze off.

“You wouldn’t be the first guy to have bad dreams,” he said quietly.

Alarm shot through me, and I snapped my head toward him. “Who the fuck said anything about dreams?”

“Me. Weren’t you paying attention?”

“I’m dreaming just fine. Fuck off.”

“Sure,” he said, unfazed by my reaction and continuing what he was doing. “But you know, if you ever feel like you’re not getting enough sleep, just go to the clinic. They’ve got stuff that’ll set you up for a good night’s sleep, no dreams.”

“Speaking from personal experience again?” I spat at him.

His eyes drifted up to mine, holding my gaze for a heartbeat. “Yes.”

It was more than a little difficult to find a way to argue against that. The guy was just being honest with me and wasn’t trying to show me any pity. It was the sort of combination that left me feeling helpless, which just pissed me off even further.

“Riley,” Elliot piped up suddenly, the two of them closer than I’d realized as they walked up. “Can you tell your babysitter not to piss off my bunkmate? I’ve gotta live with him, and he can be kinda cranky.”

“Fuck off,” I growled, not knowing why he felt the need to eavesdrop.

“I think he gets the point, Max,” Riley said, throwing a smile my way before walking up to Max.

“I’m allowed to talk,” Max muttered but stopped when Riley began to talk to him in a voice so low I couldn’t understand. Not that I wanted to hear whatever he had to say, even if I did feel a flicker of curiosity when I watched Max’s stony expression soften slightly.

“So,” Elliot said, looking me over. “Trying to clean the ground or the hay?”

“The hay, what the fuck else?” I snapped at him, turning my back on the other two.

“Then you should probably stop trying to stab the ground. I’m the one who’s supposed to break shit because I’m the dumbass, remember?” he asked, arching a brow.

“You are a dumbass,” I grumbled, somehow managing to appreciate and detest the slight easing of tension in my shoulders as I realized he was teasing me, but I could still see the concern in his eyes. “And I’m not going to break anything.”

“Certainly looks like you’re making a good attempt at it.”

“Has anyone ever told you how fucking annoying you are?”

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