Page 50 of My End
“Yeah,” I nodded.
We lay there for a minute in the silence, the only sounds of the birds chirping outside the studio window. It should’ve felt exposed being in here, but somehow it didn’t. Maybe because I knew no one ever came up here unless they were looking for me, and the only one I wanted to find me already had.
“So,” I said, tracing my fingers across the ink on his ribs. “What’s your deal?”
He blinked, amused. “My deal?”
I smiled. “Your life. Before this. Before Boone.”
He hesitated. I felt it. His fingers paused their slow movement across my hip. “Not much to tell,” he said finally. “Had a life. Made mistakes. Got out.”
“Out of what?”
“Just… the mess. My old life. Found a way to stay clean. Took jobs here and there. This one came up, I took it.”
Vague. Too vague.
But I let it slide for now.
“You ever think about going back?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nah. Not unless I have to. I’ve got people I could call. Friends who would always have my back. Doesn’t matter what’s going down. One call, and they’d come.”
There was something in his voice. A quiet steel. Not boastful, just… certain.
“They sound like good friends,” I said.
“The best,” he said. “We’ve all been through some serious shit together. We’ve got nicknames for each other, kind of stupid, but it stuck.”
I grinned. “Nicknames?”
He laughed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah. We all earned them.”
“What was yours?”
He paused. A beat too long. “Stretch.”
I blinked. “Stretch?”
He winced like he regretted saying it. “Yeah. I know. Dumb, right?”
“No!” I laughed, sitting up a little and leaning on my elbow. “It’s just… you don’t look like a Stretch.”
He raised a brow. “No?”
“I like Jake,” I said softly. “Jake fits you. Stretch sounds like someone who used to work in a carnival doing contortionist tricks or something.”
He chuckled, low and sweet. “They called me Stretch because I could make anything work. Didn’t matter what it was, I’d stretch a dollar to a hundred. Stretch time. Stretch the truth. Whatever had to happen, I made it work.”
“So… you were the fixer?”
He shrugged, pulling me closer again. “I guess you could say that.”
“And now?” I asked.
He didn’t answer right away. Just pressed another kiss to my shoulder and tucked my hair behind my ear.
“Now I’m here,” he said finally. “With you.”
