He picked at the raw, vegan roll while he watched the passersby. Sean knew he was lucky to have the little shop in the condo complex nestled on the first floor. He’d watched his ankle monitor carefully when he raced from the tenant entrance to the shop. It never even blipped. Although it was a tiny taste of freedom, it felt like a lot. Here, he could bring his laptop and work, get overpriced groceries, and even order from the tiny café. It usually sold out of everything save these inedible wraps, but he’d take what he could get.

Sean couldn’t get over “lunch” yesterday with Harper. They’d discovered this café together, and he thought he’d seen disappointment in her face when she realized he could access the shop with his ankle bracelet.

Harper had quickly picked up a packet of seaweed, some sashimi and a bottle of no-sugar protein milk. “That’s all?” he’d asked. “It’s kind of … a weird lunch.”

“What’s so weird about it?” she’d snapped. “It’s Asian. A lot of people have sushi and seaweed.”

He’d shrugged. “Just not what most people crave after a workout.”

They’d taken the food back upstairs yesterday and eaten in near silence at the kitchen island. He’d watched her wrinkle her nose as she tipped the container of seaweed to one side.

“What?” he’d asked as he’d dug into his own meal of packaged peanut butter sandwiches.

“Look at all that oil,” she’d said. “And it’s full of sesame seeds.”

“That’s what gives it any semblance of flavor at all.”

“I don’t like it,” she’d said. Harper had pulled out some chopsticks from the plastic baggie and picked at the food like it was a science experiment.

Now, Sean forced down the vegan wrap between generous dips in soy sauce. At least the smoothies they whipped up were on point. Thick with extra scoops of whey powder for extra protein. This would be his one and only reprieve from the coldest co-living situation ever.

“Sean?”

He looked up and peered over his open laptop. It took him a minute to remember their names. “Eli, Manny, what are you guys doing here?” he asked.

“Post-workout smoothies,” Eli said. “Man, we haven’t seen you since … well—”

“Since the accident,” Sean said. “I know.” He was used to those looks and those long pauses. Nobody seemed to know how to handle talking about the night his friend had gone into a coma.

“We heard Ashton’s better now,” Manny piped up. His round, brown face glistened with sweat. “I mean, kind of.”

“What’s that mean?” Sean asked.

Eli and Manny approached Sean’s table with low voices. They’d been tertiary party friends, but never went as hardcore as Sean and Ashton. Still, Sean had glimpses of some nights with the four of them at rooftop parties and sharing bottle service.

“I mean … he’s already addicted again, man,” Manny said. “I don’t know, I shouldn’t talk. It’s just what people are saying.”

“People? What people? Addicted to what?”

“People like the guy we get our party favors from,” Eli said. “I mean, he wasn’t overt about it or anything. Just said something like, ‘Ashton said it was for all of you’ when we showed up to get a little molly.”

“Yeah, then kind of gave us shit about girly party drugs. That’s what he called it.”

“So, what’s Ashton on?” Sean asked. Why do you care?

“I dunno, man. I heard it was like coke and some kind of scripts. You know, the usual LA shit. You haven’t heard any of this?” Eli asked.

“No. Honestly, I’ve been kind of …” he trailed off, unsure how much to tell them. Or how much they knew. It’s not exactly smart to go around advertising that you punched a cop or were in jail.

“Hey, what’s that?” Manny asked. He pointed to Sean’s ankle.

Fuck. “Uh, an ankle monitor,” he said.

“For real? What for? The whole Ashton thing? Man, that’s bullshit—”

“No,” he said quickly. “Not really. I uh, kind of got into an altercation a couple of weeks ago. With a cop.”

“No shit!” Eli looked impressed. His eyes lit up. “What’d you do?”

“Punched him,” Sean said with a shrug. “I’d been drinking, they showed up at my place, you know how it goes.”

“Fucking A, man,” Eli said. He shook his head in wonder. “You’re my hero, you know that?”

“Yeah. It’s not really awesome to be wearing this for the next however long,” Sean said.

“So, wait. How are you here then?”

“I live here.”

“What?” Manny looked impressed. “In this building? Man, I saw this when I was looking for some new digs. It was crazy expensive even then. You’ve got some serious tricks up your sleeve, Sean.”

“Something like that,” he said. “Hey, I gotta get going,” he said. He hoped, desperately, that they wouldn’t ask him where. It wasn’t like he had that many options.

“Okay, cool,” Eli said. “You still got the same number? I’ll hit you up. Or just text me whenever your anklet gets off.”

“Sounds good,” Sean said. “Later.”

He grabbed his laptop, shoved it in his bag and made a beeline for the tenant entrance.

As he took the elevator to the penthouse, he couldn’t help but reflect on everything that had happened. It wasn’t that long ago that he’d been in that car with Ashton, but it felt like a different person. A different life.

Those days of hardcore partying, of waking up with piles of naked women in his bed whose names he couldn’t remember, what the hell had he been doing? And Eli and Manny, what kind of assholes were impressed with an ankle monitor?

He hung the bag on the bronze hooks as he stepped inside. Harper’s door was closed as usual, but he saw a dim light from below the door.

Sean sighed as he filled a glass of water. Even now, in this apartment chosen by his brother with the monitor hugging his leg, he was so much closer to where he wanted to be than ever before. He had Joon-ki with his endless patience. Even though he’d started off as his sponsor, the relationship had quickly turned to genuine friendship. Joon-ki’s the kind of person you need in your life, he told himself as he downed the water. Eli and Manny weren’t the ones waiting for you at the jailhouse, were they?

And Harper. God, he was lucky to have her. Not that you have her anymore, he reminded himself. But she was here. She’d given up her entire life to help him out. Even after everything she’d seen. Even after everything he’d put her through.

Harper fulfilled every fantasy he’d ever had, and even those he hadn’t fully accepted until she came into his life. Sean had always imagined that if he found the right sub, the right sexual fit, he could compartmentalize. He could keep his sub at arm’s length, on call for his whims, and that would be it. Harper broke through those molds. She was the ultimate Madonna-whore, and he was infatuated with every facet of her.

And then there was the job. Connor hadn’t spoken to him much about it since he’d bailed him out beyond a single whisper during move-in. “The job’s still yours if you want it.” Sean had looked at him with utter surprise. Who would keep a drunk on board, even if it was their brother?

But Connor had just grinned, slapped Sean’s back and shook his head. “We’ll talk later,” he’d said.

In fact, it was somewhat perfect timing. Connor was taking a hiatus from opening the business for paternity leave. As Sam got closer to her due date, reality set in harder. The last he’d heard, they both planned to take at least three months off post-baby, before making the move to California and opening up shop.

A lot can happen in three months, Sean thought. Harper was proof of that. Three months ago, he’d been toiling away in the tattoo shop. Then one day, she’d just appeared, asking for that lower back snake tattoo with her idiotic friends.

You never know when your life’s about to change. For better or worse. He hadn’t seen Harper coming, but he hadn’t seen that night with Ashton coming, either.

“Jesus, Ashton,” he whispered to himself. How could he just go back to the same old lifestyle? Did he really think it was all on Sean, what had happened that night? “I wasn’t even driving,” Sean said. He’d said it so many times, but it was like nobody listened. He wasn’t the druggie, he hadn’t been snorting blow all night, he hadn’t had god knows how many pills. Why had it all come down on him?

He felt bad for Ashton. For the first time, he felt compassion and empathy without a trace of guilt. No matter what anyone said, once Ashton was out of that coma all decisions were on him. It was proof for Sean he hadn’t been at fault that night.

And now there was Harper. He looked to the closed door and the warm light that trickled onto the concrete floors. He had to make up with her, one way or another. Or at least try. Sean had never felt this way about anyone before.

Besides, they lived together. As odd and unorthodox as the situation was, that had to be a sign. And it gave him an advantage, that closeness. How hard could it be?