Free Poison Tongue by Nash Summers

expression darkened, and his frown deepened. “You say the sweetest things, Levi.”
    “I didn’t come over to braid friendship bracelets with you, Monroe.”
    “Well, then,” he said as he took another step toward me. He was too close. The scars on his skin glistened in the sunlight. “Tell me why you are here.”
    I looked toward the ground momentarily, then back up at him. “Yes.”
    “Yes?”
    “Yes, I want to come inside.”
    “All right. But it’s hotter than the inside of an engine in there, and I don’t have anything to drink but water and cheap Bourbon.”
    “Well, forget it, then. I really only came over for lemonade.”
    Despite his sour expression, the corner of his lips twitched. I tried my best to keep my glower in place, but the challenge in his eyes forced a smile from me. He turned without saying anything, and I followed him inside.
    Monroe hadn’t been exaggerating—the inside of the Poirier house was hot. The second I walked into the front entryway, I collided with a wall of thick heat. “Why’s it so hot in here?”
    He shrugged. I could already feel beads of sweat dripping down the back of my neck. I set my bag down on a chair in the living room. The inside of the house looked different already. Some of the walls had been reboarded and even had a picture or two hanging from them. There was a large rug in the center of the room that hadn’t been there before, and a new table next to the couch, with ornate legs and a floral flourish carved into the side.
    The sound of small feet against the floor caught my attention. Coin stared up at me with big, blue eyes, pink tongue hanging out, and tail wagging. I smiled as I reached down and scratched behind his ear.
    Monroe walked up to me. He’d pulled on a white T-shirt. I couldn’t help it when my eyes sank to the deep V on the front of it.
    “So,” he said as he watched my face. “Want to tell me why you stopped by?”
    “About that,” I said. “I shouldn’t have just come over. The thought that you might have someone over never even crossed my mind.”
    He pursed his lips, obviously unhappy talking about this. “It’s all right,” he said. “You can stop by any time you want.”
    I walked over to the fireplace and picked up a black-and-white framed picture. It was Monroe—younger—standing next to a car. His arms were folded across his thick chest, and he was grinning wide at the camera.
    “Be nice to Saddie,” I said. “She’s a sweet girl.”
    Monroe sighed. “Shit, Levi. It ain’t even like that.”
    “I don’t want to know.”
    “It was just the one time. It’ll only ever be the one time.”
    I bristled. I wanted to turn around and tell him he could sleep with whomever he wanted—that it was none of my business and I didn’t want, or need, an explanation. I had no idea why Monroe Poirier was suddenly the one person in the universe I wanted to argue with the most. “She’s a good person, and she wears her heart on her sleeve. Besides that, she’s my friend, and I don’t want to see her get hurt.”
    “She’s a big girl, Levi.”
    “I don’t want her to have her heart broken.”
    Monroe’s mouth fell into a lopsided grin. “What makes you think it’s not my heart that’s gonna get broken?”
    I threw my hands up in the air. “Forget it.”
    “Already forgotten.” His grin grew.
    I walked over to the chair with my bag on it. Shrugging off the small cardigan I wore over my too-large tank top, I tossed it over the back of the chair. I opened the side of the pouch and pulled out an elastic band. My hair was barely long enough, but I managed to pull it back from my face and fasten it. I then bent over and rolled up the hems of my pants until they were just below my knee.
    When I faced Monroe, I said, “Now sit down on the sofa and close your eyes.”
    He made a choking noise. “What?”
    I put my hands on my hips. “Sit down and shut up. And don’t peek.”
    He moved backward, never taking his eyes off