5: Popcorn

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Owen

"Are you going to stand there watching them the entire time?" Lilla asked.

I shifted away from the window to find her curled up on the couch with her second cup of coffee. She looked tiny and sweet with her legs tucked up under her, but her mouth twisted with attitude. Her cuteness should be a distraction and her constant bitchiness should annoy me, but there was nothing.

For so long, I loved her. Then, I hated her for a while. This emptiness was unfamiliar, but probably a good thing. It wasn't like I had the time or energy for a relationship.

Shrugging, I asked, "Why do you care?"

A slight tightening around Lilla's eyes told me I'd made her mad, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. She took a sip of her drink before answering, "I don't care. I just thought you might give the guy some privacy."

Shaking my head, I turned back to the window in time to watch Emily rush to her car and slam the door. "It doesn't look like that went well."

"I didn't think it would," Lilla said, and I ignored her as I leaned against the wall.

Bash trudged inside and went straight to the kitchen without a glance at us. I wasn't sure what to say to him.

Emotional shit wasn't my thing and I hated that my friend was suffering. The thought that I'd ruined his world made my stomach ache, but no words could fix this. Ugh. Damn it! Just give me someone to fight, please!

I never had to deal with this myself; everyone in my life knew about mimics. There was no hiding anything or losing people because I was a hunter; most of them were hunters too.

Lilla sat peering down into her coffee mug, unmoving. She's a chick. Shouldn't she be better at stuff like this?

A loud thud and glass shattering in the kitchen broke the silence. Lilla jumped, but stayed in her seat as I headed toward the source of the noise with an exhale. I guess Bash was stuck with me.

Across the kitchen, a puddle littered with shards of a broken water glass was under an indentation in the wall. On the other side of the room, Bash sat curled forward beside the island where we'd found his dad, his hands fisting his hair. I grabbed a towel from the counter to clean up the mess and give Bash a couple of minutes to calm down.

There was nothing I could do about the dent, but by the time I sat next to Bash, I'd mopped up the water, and the glass was in the trash. I waited a little longer, silently staring at the painted white cabinets, hoping he would break the ice, but he didn't move or speak.

I couldn't take the quiet anymore. "If you want to pitch the fridge outside, I can pry the boards off the backdoor for you."

Bash let out a huff of laughter and glanced at me. "Thanks, but I'm done throwing stuff. Sorry about that."

I shrugged. "Don't be. You've seen my yard. Chucking shit helps sometimes. There are worse ways to blow off steam."

"Probably better ways, too." He gave me a sheepish grin, and I chuckled.

"Less fun, though."

We were quiet a little longer as Bash pulled himself together. He leaned his head back on the cabinets and closed his eyes. "This sucks."

"It does." I nodded. "Maybe you can fix things with Nolan and Emily when this is over?"

Bash took a deep breath. "Nolan and I are cool, but Emily's not who I thought she was."

"Oh? Do you want to talk about it?" Cringing, I tried to keep the horror out of my voice. Listening would be fine; as long as he didn't expect advice. It wasn't like I had any solid relationship experience.

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