Page 21 of Unspoken Rules

“Sometimes those closest to you see things about you that you can’t see about yourself,” she says.

That leaves me speechless for a few seconds. “You’re too young for such wise words, Mila Shaw.” I pat her on the head again, and this time she grins.

“Who else knows?” she asks.

“Chris and his dad. People back in Providence. I didn’t hide it in college.”

“So why are you hiding it here?” she asks.

I turn to face Mark and Onyx. Mark has a ball in his hand, while Onyx is explaining the best way to throw it to get the three pins down that are left.

“I’m not. I—” I shake my head, bringing my attention back to Mila. “It was weird to bring up then, and now? I don’t know. I feel like I waited too long, and it’ll be awkward.”

“No one will care. You know that, right? We all missed you and just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.”

She frowns.

“Mila, your turn!” Mark calls, running over to pick her up. He tosses her over his shoulder, and she squeals, beating on his back with closed fists.

“Let me go, you animal!” He laughs, spinning her in circles before finally putting her down.

She squeals again, stomping her foot as she fixes her long hair, getting it out of her face.

“You’re an ass, Mark!”

“I know, isn’t it nice?” he asks, bending over and wiggling it.

I laugh. Then I laugh some more.

Fuck, it feels so good to be home.

Chapter Ten

Bryson

Chris unlocks the front door, steps inside, and trips on his own feet. He stumbles but catches himself, turning to face me with his finger to his lips.

“Shhhh!” he says so damn loudly I bet the neighbors down the street heard it.

“You’re the dumbass who tripped,” I tell him, shutting the door.

“It’s these damn feet. They’re too big for my own good. Hey—” He points a finger in my face and gets really close. “But you know what they say about big feet.”

“Ew,” I scoff, pushing him away. “Don’t talk to me about your dick.”

“What’s wrong with my dick?” he asks, rearing his head back. “I’ve heard no complaints about it.”

“You’re my best friend and I don’t wanna hear about it, that’s what.”

He rolls his eyes and hangs his keys up on the hook by the door, but misses. He doesn’t realize they fell on the floor and keeps walking. I shake my head, pick them up and put them on the hook. This guy is trashed. So much so that Mila drove Chris’s car here with us, while Mark followed to take her, since they drove to the alley together.

“I’m hungry!” Chris calls out from the kitchen. He’s going to wake the damn dead. As I head to the kitchen, I glance upstairs, hoping he doesn’t wake up his father. When I hear nothing, I go into the kitchen. Chris’s head is in the fridge. “Yes! Pizzaaa!”

He pulls out a cardboard box, shuts the fridge door with his hip, and goes to the table. He puts it down, and we finish the box off without heating it up. There was half an extra-large. There’s just something so good about cold pizza. Or maybe it’s the alcohol. Dirt would taste good right now.

When we’re done, we head toward the stairs. My phone rings halfway up. I pull it from my pocket and see it’s Daniel. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but I know I need to handle this before it gets out of control. His texts are up in the forties now, and I haven’t read a single one. Maybe if I tell him off now that I have the balls to do so, he’ll stop.

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