28
JACK
The caffeine headache hits me before the sun’s even up.
It blooms right behind my eyes sharp and mean, pulsing in time with my heartbeat.
If I don’t get coffee in me within the next twenty minutes, I’ll be useless all damn day.
I roll out of bed slowly, careful not to wake anyone when I move.
All four of us somehow managed to pile into Holly’s full-sized bed for the night, cramped together on top of the small surface, and somehow, miraculously, my back feels only a little stiff.
The floor’s cold under my feet as I pad down the hall and into the kitchen.
A couple of plates and glasses are stacked haphazardly in the sink.
One of the chairs at the table is pulled out at an angle from someone pushing it back in a hurry.
The faint smell of roasted chicken still lingers in the air, though it’s gone stale in the hours since we laughed over it.
I don’t bother with lights, there’s plenty streaming in from the windows at the front of her apartment.
I grab the pot from the burner and scoop the grounds in, setting back down to wait for the slow drip to gurgle.
It does after a few silent minutes.
The strong, bitter scent cuts through the fog in my head, easing my shoulders a little.
I’m halfway through my first mug when I hear shuffling from down the hall.
Liam appears looking just as wrecked as I feel, a blanket pulled around him and knotted at his left hip.
He mutters something that passes for “morning,” and heads straight for the cabinet to grab another mug.
We stand like that, me on one side of the counter, him on the other, sipping coffee in silence.
It’s been like this ever since the fight with Carson. No outright hostility between us, just distance.
I don’t know what’s worse, that I’m starting to get used to it, or how it doesn’t seem to affect him at all.
I’m surprised when Liam breaks first. “You talk to Carson lately?”
I shake my head. “No.”
That catches him off guard. His brows lift, his gaze narrowing. “Really?”
“No.” I set my mug down, watching the swirl of dark liquid settle, the little ripples smoothing out. “Why?”
He takes a slow sip, like he’s using it to buy him a little more time before speaking again.
“I just…I figured you’d still be hanging out with him since you don’t really care about what he did to Holly.”
A snort escapes me. Not because it’s funny, but because it’s ironic.
“I’ve nevernotagreed with you about Carson being a shitty father, Liam. I just never say it out loud because I didn’t think I needed to. But it was never our place to do anything about it when that was between him and Maggie to figure out.”
Liam watches me for a while, churning my words over in his head for a bit.