Reaching over, he grabs my hand. “While you were playing naughty patient with a nurse who looked like she wanted to eat you up, I made some calls.” He flashes me a smile. “I got us a place.”
My eyes widen. “Like an apartment?”
“Yeah, it’s not far from Fenway Ink. Not the most expensive place, but not a shithole either. The guy said if I bring him a deposit tonight, we can have the keys.”
The thought of living with Cope every single day, with him in my bed to wake up to each morning, is more than I could have ever hoped for. “For real?”
“For real.”
“I don’t have a job, but I’ll get one,” I promise.
He shakes his head. “I told you I had money put away. Dad’s threats over the years did nothing but turn me into a planner. Any money I could siphon away from him or my trust fund, I did. With what I have put aside, away from his prying fingers, and what I make at the shop, it’ll be enough. Just focus on school, man. It’s what you want.”
It’s what I did want.
Now?
Without Dad’s help or football, college feels like something unattainable. I don’t burst Cope’s bubble, though. I’ll figure something out.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I say as we roll to a stop at a stoplight.
He leans across the console and kisses me. “Believe it. We’re doing it and we’re never going to stop.”
Copeland
“You going to get off your throne, King Penn, and help?” I tease, grunting.
Penn laughs. “Nah, I kind of like watching you get all hot and sweaty while I do nothing.”
Lars almost drops one end of the sofa, chuckling. “Kinda mouthy for a kid with two black eyes.”
Penn shrugs, but the action makes him wince. It’s been two days since the incident. We both bailed on school for the rest of the week to get shit for the apartment and for him to recuperate. Leah texted earlier to tell us the newest gossip is that Penn and I ran off to Vegas to get married. The idiots we go to school with need to get a life.
“Just put it along that wall,” I grunt, nodding with my head.
Lars turns and backs the sofa into the right spot. “Enjoy this beauty,” Lars says, huffing as he slaps my back. “We made a couple of kids on it.”
“Take your nasty ass back to Dina,” I say with a groan. “But for real, though, thanks for your jizz sofa.”
Lars laughs and shoots us the bird before leaving. I plop down on one end of the sofa before kicking my boot up, resting it on the arm of the recliner Leah robbed from her grandma’s basement.
“Starting to feel like home,” Penn says, admiring our space.
It’s small, sure. One bedroom, one bathroom. There isn’t a dining area, just a small bar off the kitchen. We picked up some cheap barstools from a thrift shop earlier today so we have a place to eat. Our living room is just big enough to hold a sofa and a recliner. A small end table fits on the other side of the recliner. We still need a television and bedroom furniture. For now, we sleep on a mattress on the floor.
“Yeah, I like it,” I admit. My house I shared with my dad was massive and expensive, but it never felt welcoming or relaxing. Not anywhere close to the solace we feel in this mediocre apartment.
“I feel like an invalid. We should go somewhere tonight. Go see a movie or something,” Penn says, wincing as he reaches over to pat the top of my boot.
“I have to work later, but we can go tomorrow,” I promise. “One more night sleeping off those pain meds won’t kill you.”
“What do you want to eat—” he starts but is interrupted by the knocking on the door.
“Did you forget something, dumbass?” I call out. “Come in. I’m not getting up to open the door for you.”
The door swings open. But instead of Lars standing there, I lock eyes with my father. I scramble to my feet, poised to knock this motherfucker in his head if he even says one wrong word.
“I see you stole your car,” he says in way of greeting, his eyes flitting over our space in mild interest. His gaze falls to Penn. “And the neighbor.”
“What do you want?” I demand. He can have the damn car. I have plenty socked away that I can get a new one.
He lets out a resigned sigh before closing the door behind him as if he’s welcome. “I want to apologize.”
I let out a snort. “Apology not accepted. There’s the door.”
Penn slowly rises from the recliner and shuffles over to me. He may have had his ass kicked, but I like that we stand in solidarity against my father. Penn’s fingers thread with mine, giving me the moral support I need.