I'd been surprised when Monroe knocked on my door late tonight asking if I could watch Levi for an hour. I was even more shocked when I opened the door to find him with Mr. Surly.
"Oh my God. What happened?"
I jumped into action and helped Monroe carry my now passed-out gym instructor to the couch. Once he was down, I ran to the kitchen to grab ice, water, and paper towels. Monroe had the T-shirt off Mr. Surly by the time I returned and was inspecting the dark bruising. It was extensive, and I cringed as I began cleaning up his face.
It was covered in dried blood and was starting to mottle with bruises along his jaw as well. It was not going to be a pretty sight when he woke up. One eye was swollen shut, and I winced as I gently dabbed it. What the hell had happened after I left? It had been only a few hours since I saw him walk out of that gym in a huff.
After a few minutes of working diligently in silence, we had him mended to the best of our ability. I placed an ice pack on his face to help with the swelling before throwing away the bloodied towels. Washing my hands, I realized I was shaking with adrenaline, either from shock or even fear.
Monroe came up behind me, his body blanketing mine in heat as he took my hands into his, stopping the tremble. I relaxed back into his embrace for a moment, soaking in his comfort. He was a giant snuggly blanket, and his presence reminded me how much I missed this part of a relationship. Though, to be frank, it hadn't been present in years and never felt this solid. What did that say about my marriage? I was starting to realize I'd been wearing a mask longer than I thought.
Perhaps my marriage wasn't as flawless as I'd always believed, and I'd been blind to the deficiencies long before they were obvious. There were pitfalls to only having one relationship in my life. The things I thought were normal might not be, and now, as an adult, I had no clue how to navigate all these feelings, expectations, and rules I found myself in.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, it's just, I don't know," I mumbled as I dried my hands. Turning, I looked up into his kind green eyes, finding nothing but assurance. "I sort of know him." I shrugged.
"You know Wells?"
"Uh, yeah. I mean, I didn't know that was his name. He never really told me, so I call him Mr. Surly."
Monroe chuckled, his arms wrapped around me now. Despite our friendship being new, I felt safe with him, and I didn't question the motives behind everything he did. He was a solid and upfront man, and I knew he would never play games with me. It was refreshing. His attention was centered on me as he waited until I had my thoughts under control.
"It was jarring seeing him like that. I just left him a few hours ago, and he was fine. My brain is having a hard time piecing it all together."
"Yeah, I can see how that would be confusing. Plus, I bet you weren't expecting to see him in this place. Two different parts of your life colliding in a way."
"Yeah, that's true." I nodded, biting my lip. "How do you know, what did you say his name was?"
"Wells Young." He smiled before continuing. "Uh, remember how I said I grew up in foster care and at a group home? We'd been placed in a few homes together and then at the group home became friends. I haven’t heard from him in a few months, though. We disagreed about something, and he tends to pull away when he feels threatened."
"That makes a lot of sense…" I mumbled.
"Oh, does it?" he teased.
"Just how he is with me, I guess in lessons. Anyway, that's not important. Do you, um, need anything else? Do you want me to go?"
"I think he's probably good at this point. He might need to see a doctor tomorrow for his ribs, but I can't do anything with that tonight. You can stay though… you don't have to leave."
His words had been muffled on the last part, hesitant to throw out his offer. The heat between us grew as I stared into the pale green depths, conflicted on what to do.
"I…"
Before I could finish, a loud moan came from the living room, followed by a crash. We broke apart and raced into the room to see what had caused the noise. Mr. Surly was face down on the floor, apparently having rolled off the couch. He groaned as he laid there, unable to move, curses flowing from his mouth.
"I think I like it better when you're asleep," I muttered, helping Monroe lift him back up. Some of his cuts had reopened and were dripping blood down his face.
"Easy buddy, lay down," Monroe admonished the brute who was thrashing around in our hold.
"Either I'm dead or dreaming."
The moan sounded out of Mr. Surly from the couch. I decided I was refusing to call him by his name until he told me himself. Though, maybe Surly was more apropos. He hadn't really earned the Mr. title either.
"Why is that?" Monroe questioned, already re-bandaging his injuries. I could see his level of care for the sour man despite his horrific personality. However, I didn't have much room to talk since I'd wanted to jump him last week. Taking in their history, I could understand their bond. And despite his asshole brashness, there was something about him that pulled me in even when I tried to deny it.
"Because my sad eyed kitten is here."
I stopped what I was doing, my hands freezing on his arms, as I peered up at him. Did he mean me? Monroe glanced over as well, confusion on his face. Shrugging, because I didn't know how to answer that.