Falling Forward ✔

Chapter Five - Reece

I slip in the back door of the Anarchy Immortal Café, throw my bag in my locker, and cinch the apron around my back. It sags on my shrinking frame, and I cringe, wondering how much longer I can get away with this before Dad starts force-feeding me again.

It just always comes up when I have my nightmares, easier to not eat at all. I wish I could. I crave it; I just know it'll never stay down.

"Hey Reeciecup," an arm comes down around my shoulders, pulls my tiny frame into a firm chest smelling of coffee beans and pastries. "How were your classes?" Dad asks, kissing my forehead.

I return the hug, press my cheek into his apron, ignore the bursts of flour that puff between us. "Fine, just glad it's Friday," I mutter, smiling up at him as best I can.

Dad pats my shoulder, frowns slightly, but says nothing. "Your mom comes home in a week."

I wrinkle my nose and pull away, tugging on the sleeves of my hoodie self-consciously. "Great, how long this time? Two, three days?" I grit, refusing to meet his eyes.

Dad expels a sigh and puts his hand on the small of my back. He ushers us toward the front of the café, where Kaila is making a drink behind the counter. "Just come over for dinner, will you?" He pleads, voice soft and imploring.

I cross my arms, press my lips together.

How Dad stays with her will never cease to amaze me. She's gone for weeks at a time, home for a handful of days, and barely calls in between. She's a floating flight attendant that caters only to the rich who own private planes and extravagant jets. According to her, she's constantly jumping from one plane to the next, one client after another. But we've seen the credit card charges, the expensive hotels she stays in, the company she keeps. Dad knows she's stepping out, chooses to give her leeway.

I, however, resent her absence and the treatment she forces on him. How flippant she was when the truth of my relationship came out. Her words still haunt me, punch holes in my confidence when I least expect it. You were asking for it, shouldn't have tempted him.

"I don't know, maybe, I have homework." I deflect, spare him the smallest of glances.

Dad looks defeated, but nods, his gaze understanding.

"If you can, Reeciecup," he squeezes my arm, jaw clenching at the disturbing way his hand encircles my bicep a little too much. "Have you eaten dinner yet? I'll make you a sandwich," he averts his gaze, turns to make the food before I can protest. I concede, let him fuss, hope it's all he'll do.

"Reecie!" Kaila exclaims as I round the counter. "There you are. Will you take this to that customer over there?" She presses a mug into one hand, a bag of ice in the other. "And this, he looks a little rough." Her eyes carry a mischievous glint.

"Fine." I trudge toward the reclined figure, already bored with the night ahead. Then I see who he is; notice the roughness of his knuckles, the slight swelling on his jawline, and realize why Kaila gave me ice. My stomach does a weird flip, somewhere between arousal and anger.

"Here." I thrust the drink and bag into his hands.

"Merci beacoup." Maybe it's the bruises, but when he smiles at me this time, it seems unguarded. Without any sardonic pretense.

I bite the inside of my cheek, refuse to blush.

I think of the countless messages he's sent me. They weren't what I expected. Pressure to meet up? Sure. Maybe a dick-pic? Wouldn't put it past him.

But no. This bastard sends me cute fur babies with snarky sayings. Worse, I actually like the damn things.

"I have no idea what that means," I rebuff, arms crossing over my chest.