Johnson’s eyebrows lit up like Christmas came early. “Oh, hell yes! Look who’s finally joining the dark side.” He scrambled to the fridge and came back with two beers.
I cracked one open and took a long sip. The bitterness stung my throat, but it dulled the edge of my nerves. Johnson was practically buzzing, watching me.
“You may also need to be… taken care of,” he teased, raising his brows.
“Not interested.”
That killed his grin. He leaned back, scratching his neck, and muttered, “Alright, man. Whatever you say. I’ll be down here if you need me.” He unpaused his game, but I knew he was still listening. Johnson always listened.
I climbed the stairs with my beer, shutting myself into the dim quiet of my room. The blinds let in the beam of sunset, and I leaned on the windowsill, sipping
