Somebody has some explaining to do.
Fifteen
Lyndi
Loudbangingrattlesthedoor on its hinges. My whole body tenses, but I don’t move to answer it. Maddie doesn’t knock like that. The only people who have ever knocked on my door like that were the ones looking for Rodney. But I moved after he went to prison.
Knock. Knock.
I flinch at the sound. It’s not the same people. But I can’t make myself confirm it. I’m positive I don’t want to see whoever is out there. Nice people knock nicely.
What if it’s Rodney?
My chest constricts and I struggle to push enough air through my lungs. What if he got out and has come for Crew? We need to run, but my legs feel like jelly.
The door shaking picks up speed, and my hands tremble around my phone. I have to call someone. Who can get here in time?
“Do I have to do everything around here?” Crew says as he stomps toward the door.
“Crew, no!” My lungs lurch and I rush to him, but the knob spins before I can stop it and the door falls open, thanks to our apartment’s leveling issues.
“Ward?” Relief comes, but it’s short-lived. “What are you doing here?” And why does he look even angrier than normal?Is he going to kill me?
His brows furrow. “I’m not going to kill you.”
“Killing isn’t nice,” Crew says, fixing Ward with a frown. “Did you bring your firetruck?”
His terrifying demeanor disappears for a moment. “Not this time, buddy.”
“Did you bringanything?” Crew whines.
“Uh…” Ward shuffles on his feet.
“Crew, what did I say about asking people to give you things? Go get ready for bed.”
“Ugh!” He growls, like a true four-nager, and slinks back toward his room. “This is the worst day ever.”
Ward takes a deep breath and levels me with a stare. “Can I come in?”
“No.” My resoluteness shocks both of us. “Not until you tell me why you were trying to break down my door.” I fold my arms and stand my ground. No man will enter my apartment without my permission ever again.
He drags a hand down his face, and for the first time, I notice what he’s wearing. I thought he was attractive in his firefighter gear, but his pitch-black polo and tan pants only kick his sexiness up a gear. Or five.
“Can you explain this? Please?” He holds out his phone and my still shaky hands reach for it. I know what I’m going to see, but I’m praying I’m wrong.
His bare chest pops up on the screen and I nearly drop the device. The video hits more powerfully with the star of the show staring daggers into my soul.
I push the phone back to him. “It’s actually a really funny story.”
He tucks it in his pocket and raises his eyebrows. Waiting.
I shuffle back a step and fold my hands tight against my body. Do they always shake this much when he’s around? No, it’s just because he scared me. He’s still scaring me with that lowered brow and the smoke I’m imagining coming out of his ears.
How do I explainthis?
“See, I was, uh, trying to clean the locker room and Crew was being difficult so I gave him my phone for a few minutes to entertain him. I had no idea he was recording, or that he posted it.” I grimace as I finish the pathetic excuse.
His eyebrows narrow to form a straight line across his forehead. “You really expect me to believe Crew did all that?”
