Finding North by Jenner Carmen

Author:Jenner, Carmen [Jenner, Carmen]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Carmen Jenner
Published: 2016-02-24T16:00:00+00:00

The drive home is a quiet one, and when I pull into the lane at the back of the pub, Will smiles gingerly at me. “You wanna come up for another drink?”

“I should get home. I have work in the morning.”

“Twenty minutes?”

“Which will turn to forty and then an hour.”

“Yeah okay,” he says, and the sadness in his eyes tells me he doesn’t want to be alone. I don’t want to either. “I’ll just see you—”

“Shut up,” I say, and unbuckle my seatbelt. I open my door before he can tell me not to. We both ease out of the car like a pair of little old ladies and enter the pub through the back door. Neither of us say a word as we walk up the stairs to his apartment.

Once the door is closed behind us, I take his face in my hands and inspect the cut lip. It stopped bleeding a while ago, but he still looks like shit. I probably do, too. I certainly feel it.

“We’re a fucking mess,” I say, referring to much more than just our busted up faces.

“Did you expect anything else?” Will places his hand over mine and squeezes, and even that hurts like hell on account of my skinned knuckles.

“No, I guess not.”

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up,” he says, leading me to the bathroom. I grab a face washer from the rack above the sink and rinse it, dabbing at my eye. I removed the crusted blood, but the water trailing down my face turns red as the cut opens up again. I hold the washer in place and stare at Will in the mirror as he runs the shower and strips. He’s covered in bumps and bruises, but there’s a blue‑black mark covering the expanse of his side from ribcage to waist.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, that fucker got me good. Before I knocked him out cold, that is.”

I stare at his leanly muscled body. Will’s tattoos make him a work of art, but to me he was always that—at least, from the time I was old enough to know better than to be caught looking. I spend almost every night pushing inside him, taking him on the bed, the kitchen bench, the fucking hardwood floor, and I still don’t feel like my hands are familiar enough with his body or that my eyes could ever grow tired of him.

Will steps into the shower, leaving the glass door open, an invitation. I remove my clothes. No matter what, no matter how crazy he makes me, no matter how much I might try and hide the truth, I’ve never been more attracted to another human being, male or female, the way I’m drawn to him.

“Hurry up and get in here, jackarse. You’re letting all the cold air in,” he says, running his face under the water. I step into the tiny cubicle and shut the door behind me. There’s barely enough room for one person, so we’re wedged together as closely as we can be.

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