Page 36 of Crazy Love

I shrug. “How could you have known?”

“In hindsight, it was a gross thing to say. I didn’t mean to be so cavalier about something so serious. Those kids need help, and I wrote them off.”

“I have no doubt they’re shitheads, so don’t feel guilty about that,” I assure her. “But it’s probably notalltheir fault.”

We stand in silence, the weight of the words we’ve exchanged settling over us.

“I really am sorry,” Kali repeats, closing her eyes. “About everything.”

I curl my fingers around her wrist dangling at her side. “It’s okay.”

“I’m going to try and do better,” she adds. “And I think the best way we can move forward together is if webothpick up a roller and start painting.”

Her grin splits my mouth into another smile. I glance at my hand around her wrist and lift it up to sit between us, gently running my fingers across her palm.

“Sorry for acting like a moody dick,” I mumble.

A chortle escapes Kali’s throat. “Just like your brother.”

“We might not share DNA, but we’ve got that in common,” I agree.

I let my hand hold hers, not missing the way she gazes up at me from under her thick lashes. “Let’s get to work.”

20

KALI

Anthonyand I work for the next few hours in comfortable silence. Music plays from the speaker and we both get lost in our own minds. I mull over what he told me about his past and I’m filled with gratitude. It mustn’t have been easy for him to share his story with me, but I’m so glad he did. I feel humbled or trusted or … something.

It’s given me lots to think about, mostly about how I’d forgotten how good I’ve got it. How even though my parents may not have been my idols, at least I had Mimi and Baba for a short while. I grew up surrounded by love, guidance and discipline, and still managed to throw my privilege back in people’s faces, especially those who’ve had it far worse than me.

Anthony and I work in tandem, both of us rolling white paint up and down the brick walls. Anthony moves the ladder around and paints the parts we can’t reach from the ground. He hooks his legs around the rungs with such casual strength, it unnerves me. His shirtless torso flexes as he uses the roller, a light sheen of sweat coating him. To his credit, it doesn’t appear he took his clothing off for my benefit (I also removed my baggy shirt an hour ago) because painting is hard work. However, it doesn’t help my wayward imagination.

“Time check, Red?” Anthony calls from above me, tearing me from my daydreaming.

I glance at my watch. “It’s nearly five.”

“Shit. We’ve been at it for hours.” I fight the urge to make some inappropriate remark at that comment as he deftly climbs down the ladder, balancing the roller in one hand. He reaches the bottom and places the head of it in the paint tray.

“My shoulders are killing me,” he groans, rolling them back for release. The noise stirs something low in my belly as I watch his muscles contort.

“You’ve done too much for me already,” I tell him. “Thank you. You should go and enjoy your Saturday night.”

Anthony nods. “I plan on it. You wanna order in?”

“As in order food and … eat it together?” I clarify.

“Yep. That’s what most people mean when they order in with other people.”

“You were here all last night,” I point out.

Anthony shrugs. “So? We’ve nearly finished this coat. Another couple of hours and we’ve done coat number twenty-three.”

“I reckon we’re up to coat thirty at least.” I frown at the surrounding walls. The colour isnearlythere, but it needs a couple more coats before I’ll be happy with it.

“I guess with tattoos covering your body, most places on the Gold Coast won’t let you in, right?” I tease, heading to retrieve my drink bottle. “That’s why you spend your Saturday nights volunteering your time for women who desperately need it?”

“Yeah, it’s either that or they look me up and see I have a criminal record.”

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