Guys Our Age (Wattys2017) (UNDER CONSTRUCTION)

Chapter 10: Alex From Target (Hannah)

My phone buzzing in my ear stirred me awake the next morning.

It took me a second to remember that Justin had came over yesterday, and he wasn't in the best condition.

As I forced my eyes open, I came face to face with my boyfriend, his face peaceful and gentle. He looked so innocent and calm that it was hard to imagine that I had ever been pissed at him in the first place.

I propped myself up on my elbow and looked at my phone, sighing when I saw that I'd have to cover for one of my coworkers today. It was supposed to be my day off.

"Nice view." Justin's voice was barely audible. My eyes shot toward him, lips parted in shock. His eyes were on my chest, the right side of his mouth curved into a smile.

Instead of proceeding to give him a dirty look, I glanced down to see just what exactly he was looking at. Warmth spread through my cheeks when I saw that my breasts were about ready to pop out of my sleep shirt considering I was putting force on them and pushing them up along with the rest of my body.

"Thanks." I set my phone back on the bed between us, slowly lowering myself back down.

"How do you feel?" I brushed my hand against his warm cheek, searching his eyes for an answer.

"Okay, I guess." He muttered. "I'd feel better if you kissed me. You know, I heard it can help heal wounds." I rolled my eyes at the comment.

"You want to tell me why you had a nasty gash on the back of your head, Justin? Or do I have to force it out of you?" I asked. He touched my cheek, then my lip, before dropping his hand back on the bed between us.

"Are you going to tell me why you pretended to be Hailey on Friday?" It irritated me that he had answered a question with another question.

"Justin." I said with a warning tone.

"Dad asked if I was still playing and I told him I wasn't. It started this huge fucking argument between him and my mother that somehow ended up with him. . . he started shoving me and I fell back and hit my head on the corner of the counter." I gasped, my breath catching in my throat as I reached over and rested both of my hands on his cheeks.

"Jesus, Justin. You need to go to the police or-"

"No. Look, Han, you don't understand it, okay? It's my problem until it's not." He leaned forward and kissed me softly, "I think I'm going to start playing again."

"Baseball?" He shrugged.

"Whatever sport is in season. I just want him to shut up." I brushed my thumb under his eye, tears stinging my own.

"You should talk to Mason." I tried to clear the lump in my throat, "He has issues at home too. You guys could be like. . . each other's rock, you know. Someone that knows what it's like to talk to." He let out a shaky sigh, his lips brushing against mine as I waited for an answer.

"You are my rock, Hannah."

*

I leaned over the scanner, tapping my fingers boredly on the counter as I waited for a customer to approach the register. Of course I couldn't get so lucky.

"You still open?" My head whipped up at the familiar voice, a sick feeling spreading through me at the sight of the man in front of me.

At first glance Alexander Davidson looked like nothing more than a rich guy, with designer clothes and glasses, it was a surprise he'd even be shopping at a place like Target. But I knew that he was more than meets the eye. Behind his striking green eyes, were lies and years and years of mentally and physically abusing his son. Under his thick black locks were millions of thoughts on how he was going to go home, get hammered again, then kick his son's ass for confronting him on it.