Chapter 8

“He seems really…itchy,” I said.

Asher burst out laughing. The joyful sound boomed in the apartment, filling every nook and cranny, and I wished I could record it and keep it for later.

“He always is,” he said after he’d calmed down. Mike chose that moment to call a fourth time. “What the fuck?” He pulled his hands out of mine and grabbed the phone. With his jaw set in an annoyed line, he poked the screen so hard, I was afraid he’d break it.

When the phone buzzed again, I fidgeted. I was starting to feel like an intruder.

“Sorry, I gotta take this,” he said and put a warm hand on my thigh. “What, Benji?”

I grimaced at his irritation. Even if it wasn’t directed at me, I was sensitive to anger. It had a way of penetrating my body to my very core, and it had only gotten worse with the depression. I shivered and moved backward on the couch, out of his reach.