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Chapter 4

“So,” he said by way of greeting, “it turns out I’m severely allergic to bees. It was a bee sting that sent me into anaphylaxis. They were probably attracted by all those damn flowers Carrie had everywhere.”

I squinted at him. Why did he feel it necessary to deliver this information to me in person? There was a part of me that was curious, but a text message would have sufficed. “Thanks for the info. Why the fuck are you here?”

He wasn’t deterred by my sarcasm, my attitude, or the fact that I was blocking the doorway with my bulkier body. He pushed past me, right into the house, and pulled out his phone, tapping at the screen as he walked into the living room. He flopped down on the couch in a way that my mother would have yelled at him for and read from the screen. “How many extra shifts have you picked up?”

“None of your goddamn business,” I bit out, scowling.

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