Page 10 of Splintered Hearts

“You’re an asshole. Come on. No more moping. I’ve watched you drink yourself stupid for days now. It’s adulting time.”

“Do I look like an adulty adult to you?” Mark pulls me upright, and my brain sloshes in my skull. Okay, maybe he’s right. My recovery time hasn’t been the same since I turned twenty-two.

“You’re probably the least adulty adult I’ve ever met.”

“You just want me out so you can get dicked down in peace.” Not that I blame him. My stomach twists. I’m being a dick and I know it. “Sorry.”

Mark pulls me into his arms, while I try so damn hard to block out the memories of fists and shoes flying into my ribs. I’m no stranger to being hit by my father, but beaten? What would he have done if I’d stayed? “I’m not going to watch you sit here for one more day and let him win. What’s done is done. You’re free.”

“Iwillget it together.” Tomorrow. Tomorrow’s an excellent day to get my shit together.

“Hunter came home this morning. Do you mind if we have our bed back?”

“Of course. It’s your bed, your house.” Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I try and breathe through the nausea, then collapse on my side in a boneless heap, opting not to deal right now. Mark doesn’t move, he just places a hand on my back and rubs it. “I would ask to be a third, but your naked body repulses me.”

“My naked body used to turn you on.”

“I’m nauseous. Don’t make it worse.” College had been a whirlwind of orgasms for us, but that shit ended, and nowneither of us is proud of our dark and dirty past.

“I think you should eat. Get some water. Puke if you have to. Go out for a run. Do something. Just stop letting him win.” Mark squeezes my arm. “I love you.”

“Gross.” He slaps the back of my head. Shower, eat, and maybe read at some point today? I can do that. Take todayto catch up... feel better. Maybe I could find a library at some point. Books make everything better. “Oh, what’s the name of the body wash you use?”

Mark’s face scrunches. “Night Panther?”

“Ah, yes. That sounds about right.” A wave of nausea rolls through me like a bullet train as I try to get up. “Kill me now.”

“I mean it. No more binge drinking. It won’t change what happened. It’s not your—”

“I should have been more careful.”

“You living at home at twenty-two is the problem, Mr. Nepo Baby.”

“Fuck off—”

Mark cups my face, holding me still when I try to flinch away. “You being gay is not the problem. I know you know that. There is no queer man on earth more proud of who he is than you. There is nothing wrong with you, me, or Hunter. It’s your father who’s fucked in the head. Not us.”

I know that, deep down, but I still can’t shake the look he had—pure, heart-wrenching hatred. It wiggled something loose in me. Something deep I’ve kept hidden my entire life. All I ever wanted was my father’s approval, even when it meant hiding myself away.

He kisses my temple and I flinch away. “Don’t be gross.” Mark ignores me, going to his dresser and grabbing clothes. “They may be a bit long. Just roll them up. We’ll go out today, get you some things. There are a couple of thrift stores downtown.”

“A library?”

“Yeah, we can do that too. Jamie’s mother is the director. She’s sweet.”

Hunter’s mysterious friend. “That sounds good. Thank you.” While I’ve managed to save more than most people, I’m still nervous with my money. At least I had time before shit got serious. “Let me shower and see if my gorgeous round ass will fit in these sweats.” Unfortunately, in my rush to leave I’d grabbed no sweats or sleepwear of any kind. I did grab my e-reader, book logs, and ear buds, though, so my priorities were in the right place even under duress.

Who needs to wear pants anyway.

I reach for Mark and he tenses, before realizing I’m not actually going to pinch his nipples. “Thank you for everything.” And as he hugs me back, I feel a tiny smile on my lips.

“That sounded like it physically hurt you,” he says and I laugh, breaking the hug. “You smell like a bar. Please shower.”

“Can I use your tiger-pussy soap?”

Mark’s face pinches. “What... Yeah, just go shower.”

“Hey.” Hunter’s cooking at the stove, wearing a pair of black sweats and nothing else. Damn. While I’m not attracted to Hunter in that way, I know a hottie when I see one—love that for Mark.

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