Page 1 of Too Hostile
FLETCHER
Man, it’s a nice day. All sunny and warm, but not too hot. I could stay outside for the rest of the afternoon, but I have a class in about an hour, so it’s really only enough time to grab something to eat, and then, it’s back to campus.
But when I unlock my apartment door and push it open, I’m instantly greeted by a bombshell blonde with a huge smile on her face. She’s clearly not bothered at all that she used her key to break into my place.
“Blair.”
She walks right up to me, a brown bag and what looks like a coffee in her hands as she leans in and kisses my cheek. “You know, someday I’ll get you guys to call me mom.”
I grin at that. She’s for sure the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mother. She’s that for Rhett and Bree too—my adopted siblings. We all grew up together in foster care. We saw horrors no kids ever should, and then there was Blair. She and her now-husband, Rhys, scooped us up out of the abyss, and I haven’t looked back since.
Okay—that’s a lie. A total fucking lie, but it’s one I tell myself, and that’s what I’m sticking to.
“So Mom,” I go over-the-top with the title, and she just shakes her head at me. “What brings you to my apartment today for a little breaking and entering?”
She shoves me slightly, though my sturdy frame doesn’t budge, then hands me the bag and coffee. “Well, since you never call your mother, I thought I’d stop by to make sure you weren’t dead.”
I chuckle at that and open the bag, the smell of my all-time favorite meatball sub hitting my nostrils. “Fuck yes. You went to Mickey’s just for me?”
She winks, grabbing her own coffee from my kitchen counter and taking a spot at one of the bar stools at the counter. “I did.”
“You’re my favorite mother ever,” I tease as I take a seat by her. This apartment really isn’t your typical college student’s place. My parents don’t hold back when it comes to their kids—at least the ones who’ll let themselves be spoiled.
Rhett was never having that shit. Fought Blair and Rhys tooth and nail every time they wanted to buy him something. I guess I’m different. Blair is a caretaker, and if she wants to spoil me a bit here and there, who the hell am I to stop her?
She wants me to relax and enjoy college, so that’s what I’m doing—in my extremely nice, two-bedroom apartment with wood floors and marble countertops. I swear this place is almost as nice as the house I’ve been lucky enough to call home with Rhys, Blair, Rhett, and Bree.
I smile, thinking about how much that house freaked us all out at first. It’s huge. They have a heated outdoor pool, indoor gym, and tons of bedrooms. None of us had ever seen a place so big, so nice, or so clean before.
We all tiptoed around there for what felt like forever before Blair made it very clear that it was our home and she wasn’t going to freak out if we broke something or made a mess. She proved her point by throwing a glob of spaghetti at Rhys when we were eating dinner one night.
We were all scared shitless that the large, stoic man would fly off the handle, but he only smirked and tossed some right back at her. Not caring that she was wearing an expensive white blouse.
She then hit Rhett right in the face, and when Bree, Rhett, and I looked at each other, it was like we could finally breathe again. And then it was on. I smile at the memory, and Blair doesn’t miss it. “What has you smiling?”
“Just thinking about the spaghetti food fight.”
“Ah yes. When you kids finally started trusting me a little bit.” She’s smiling big, and she has a lightness to her tone, but I know she’s not totally unaffected. Man, we were hard on her.
We didn’t mean to be. But when you grow up the way we did, it’s kind of hard to let people in. All we ever had was each other, and then, here comes Blair and Rhys, loving us for absolutely no reason.
“And then you go and break into my place,” I joke. Not only does she pay for this place—she’s welcome, no matter what, even if she didn’t. But she doesn’t point out that she’s paying for my whole damn life at the moment.
Nope. Blair isn’t like that.
“I missed you,” she says as I tear into my sandwich, which has her sighing and grabbing napkins to thrust at me. I take them and wipe at my mouth, even though I’m still busy devouring my food. “Missed you too.”
She lets me eat as she sips at her coffee, and when I’m finished, I let out a loud belch and pat my very full stomach.
“Damn, that was good.”
“You, my dear son, are a slob,” she says, using a spare napkin to wipe at my chin.
“Thanks for lunch, but is everything really okay? Max and Ian?”
She’s smiling big, so that’s a good sign. Max and Ian only moved in with them a little while ago. They’re foster kids like us. Rhett and Grayson, Rhett’s boyfriend, met them while volunteering at the city mission downtown. Max wound up in the hospital because of a drunk abusive motherfucker, and the very thought of it sends chills down my spine.
Thoughts of the past come bubbling up, and I have to stand up from the stool and gather my trash, hoping for a distraction.