I catch her hand and kiss her knuckles. “All I know is my uncle Bobby is a very gruff, very gay accountant with very good stories.” I pour her coffee.
“He sounds amazing.”
“He is pretty fantastic.” Which was an understatement.
I owed my uncle more than just the roof over my head. He'd been the one I came out to as a confused altar boy attwelve. He pulled some strings to make sure both Lucy and I got easy sentences when we got caught up in the car theft situation that changed the trajectory of my life. Most importantly, he was the one who made sure the people closest to me had and knew how to administer Naloxone. Without that last bit, I wouldn’t be here.
“Ok, another question.”
I chuckle, leaning her into me. “Shoot.”
“What's with the robe collection?”
“I...I, uh—” This was the part of meeting new people I hated, the constant mental gymnastics it took to decide exactly what to tell them and how. “Honestly?”
Toni slides her hand over mine, slowing the steady beat I didn't even realize my fingers were tapping on the table. “Always.”
My pulse slows.
I tangle my fingers with hers. “After I...”was blown to shitfeels too harsh, “got injured. I was in the hospital for a while. My mom decided I needed a better robe than what they gave me, so she brought me a few. They were reminders of home when that's the only thing I wanted.” I clear my throat. “After, they just kept finding their way to me. Gifts, thrift stores, wherever. Just stuck.” I chose to leave out that they make me feel less like shit on days I can't bring myself to put on real clothes.
She squeezes my hand. “I promise not to spill coffee on this one.”
That tugs a rough laugh from me. “I'd appreciate that. Getting silk cleaned is a pain in the ass.” I sip my tea. “Do you have any collections—or hoards, as Oliver calls them?”
“Hold on,” she leans back from me, looking at her robe, ignoring my question. “Did you say silk?”
“Yes?”
“Oof. I knew this was too high class for me.”
“Nah.” I kiss her exposed clavicle. “It's perfect.”
“Best not risk it, though.” I almost fight her as she pushes me away to stand, but I let her go.
Toni unties the robe, allowing the fabric to flow slowly down, revealing each spectacular curve inch by inch. All thoughts of protest or the question I'd asked flee my mind.
CHAPTER 16
Toni
“What's in it?”I ask my brother, balancing the phone between my ear and shoulder as I carry the package inside.
“No clue,” he says absently.
I give it a gentle shake. “So it could be a bomb?”
“It was addressed to you.”
“Anthrax?”
“That came in envelopes.”
“A lot of anthrax.”
He huffs an exasperated sigh. “If you want me to open your mail, I will.”
“God no.” I drop onto the couch, grabbing my keys off my box-styled coffee table to hack at the tape. “Far too risky.” A smell that once meant something like home wafts from the box the moment I pry it open.
