Текст книги "Triangle: The Complete Series"

Автор книги: Susann Julieva

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God, I want to kiss him. Smash him against the wall and kiss him until he’s moaning with pleasure,

and… No, maybe just kiss him. Perhaps even hold him. Okay, that’s weird. The hell?

J always looks like he’s cold, I can’t figure out why. Maybe because he hunches slightly. Like he’s

trying to hide from something disturbing only he can see. Don’t tell me you see dead people, Jimmy. I

can’t hide a small grin. Shit, I know I shouldn’t be joking about this. I’ve got my own theory about the

origin of this dark cloud hanging over James, and it ain’t a pretty one.

Why the hell I’m so attracted to this guy I’ll probably never know. Well, apart from the obvious.

James is gorgeous, and blissfully unaware of it. He’s got the frosty dignity of someone who’s been

through it all and is still standing. And really, the most amazing, intense eyes. There’s something about

him, something I can’t figure out. I don’t know how he does it, but he’s got this way of bringing out a

side of me I normally don’t let people see. And I don’t mind him seeing it. Maybe I even want him to.

* * *

“So this is the inner sanctum.”

“Yeah, that’s my room.”

James nods and stares at the bed in the center of the room for a moment, frozen on the doorstep, like

there’s an invisible barrier keeping him out. He’s got that look on his face again, the same look he had

when I picked him up at the train station. Curtains and shutters closed, no chance of guessing what’s

going on inside. Damn, he can drive me nuts.

“Where do I sleep?”

Well, hell. I’d hoped he wouldn’t mention it, and we could just see what happens. But now I don’t

really have a choice but to put him up in a guestroom, do I? Clever bastard. I give him a look to let him

know I didn’t forget. Like I could, even if I tried. I can still hear his voice over the phone, calm, almost

cold. “I’m with Casey, you know that. I’m not coming to visit for a screw.”

Then why are you? I never asked him that. Shit, of course I want to have him, or for him to take me

again like he did that night on the beach. Oh yeah, that night… God. I don’t think that night ever ended,

because I can always feel him now, underneath my skin. I try not to think about it, but I’m hooked,

that’s the way it is. I want more. I need more. Wow, and I think that’s kinda pathetic.

But damn, not everything is about sex. This is less about sex than I expected it to be. I want to get to

know this guy. I want to know everything about him. I want it all, all the dirty little secrets, all the big

lies, and everything in-between.

Without a word I lead him to the guestrooms, and open a random one, let him step inside.

James looks around, one eyebrow arched, and smiles that little sarcastic smile. “Nice.”

Yeah, screw you too. But don’t think you get to come here and pull that “aloof and unavailable” crap

forever. We both know it won’t work. I know you want me. I just wish you’d finally admit it.

He steps to the window and looks out. “Nice pool.” Then he lifts his gaze to the darkening sky,

heavy with clouds, and there’s a bitter storm brewing in his sea-green eyes. “It’s starting to rain again.”

When he turns around to look at me leaning against the doorframe, for a moment there’s something

in his eyes and they seem to soften. “Look, Danny…” He stops, seemingly surprised to have called me

by my first name, but heck, not half as surprised as I am. “Rizzo,” he corrects himself. “I know this is

weird for you. It’s weird for me too.”

Gently raindrops are rapping against the window glass, and I wish I could wipe away this awkward

silence.

Does he do that? Does he call me Danny when he thinks of me? First time he called me that, I just

said that I liked the way he said ‘Rizzo’. I do. But what he doesn’t know is that when he says ‘Danny’, I

don’t know what to make of it. I don’t want to think about what it implies. Maybe I just don’t want to

make more of it than there really is. I don’t know why it gets to me like that. I want that more, I need

that more. But I’m never gonna ask for it unless I’m sure he wants it too. How could I ever be sure

when he’s got “I love Casey” practically stamped on his forehead?

“Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come here after all,” James continues with an insecure frown.

He doesn’t have the slightest idea just how bad that idea really was, does he?

“You hungry?” I say, ignoring his comment, because otherwise I might toss words at him that are

perhaps better left unsaid. When he shrugs I turn around. “Let’s get you something to eat then.”

* * *

He follows silently as I lead him back downstairs. He doesn’t show much interest in the contents of the

fridge when I open it. He just stands there, looking at me. I try to ignore it, but his gaze prickles on my

skin. Finally I can’t help it and turn around, forcing a mischievous smile. “What? You want me for

dinner?”

A brief smile flashes across his lips that were so warm and deliciously soft against mine. “Thanks,”

he simply says, and I know he’s not talking about dinner.

I want to cross the distance and pull him into a deep kiss, wondering why I let him do these things to

me. Wondering why he even can. I don’t get emotional. That’s not really something you do in this

house. But sometimes, like now, I wish he’d let me express myself without having to rely on words.

Because what could I possibly say?

“You’re welcome.”

Chapter 2

Uninvited

JAMES: I used to always carry a razorblade in a small, flat case in my pocket. That was plan B, a

safety net. An unusual one, yes. But at that time, it helped to know that there was a way out after all.

Funny, but hard as I try, I don’t remember what plan A was anymore.

The pale, greenish neon lights are humming lazily above me, water splashes nearby. A siren’s lure,

trying to call me back again, but I can’t be tempted. The nauseating smell of chlorine is everywhere. It

reminds me of high school, of gloating laughter and the sharp pain of my face connecting with the cold

iron of a locker door. The pain doesn’t set in until the dizziness passes, but the humiliation remains,

always. Smell and emotion, directly connected in my brain. Even as the memory of their faces fades, the

mixture of chlorine and the stench of that old locker room is as fresh as ever in my mind. I still get that

sick feeling in my stomach, and the instinct to run and hide.

Exhale. Relax. It’s only shadows. Still, sometimes I wonder, when you have too many shadows in

your life, does there ever come a point where they get too deep, and it all turns to pitch black?

I open my eyes and look across the chemical azure of Rizzo’s pool to the large front window. It’s

dark outside, but I can see the pouring rain in the light falling onto the perfect lawn of this freaking

perfect palace. Who has a swimming pool in their basement and another one in the garden anyway?

Rizzo climbs out of the pool, water dripping from his shining body. His hair looks almost black

when it’s wet. I’ll be damned, everyone looks stupid with their hair flat like that, but he still looks

gorgeous as hell. Simply too beautiful to be for real. Mildly fascinated, I watch how his muscles flex

and relax as he saunters over and sinks onto the sun bed beside me with a pleasant sigh. His warm,

nonchalant presence washes over me like a summer breeze, and lingers.

There’s a mischievous sparkle in his eyes when he turns his head and looks at me. “You look bored.”

Frowning slightly, I give him a half-smile. “I’m not, really. I was born with this expression.”

He chuckles and grabs his glass. The ice cubes rattle when he lifts it to his lips. “Another drink?”

I watch how the dark fluid vanishes in his mouth, lick my lips in reflex, almost able to taste the

alcohol myself. Bitter, sharp, with a trace of sweetness, clear but sticky.

“Naw, I’m good. Tipsy enough to feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but not drunk enough to be

seduced by you.”

I get a smirk for an answer that sets something in the pit of my stomach aflutter.

“Damn, there goes my evil scheme.”

I can’t hide a small grin. Our eyes meet. There’s so much unexpected warmth in his deep brown

orbs, somehow it just makes me ache. He’s not supposed to be so nice to me. He’s not supposed to

understand things he doesn’t even know about. Or does he? I shiver slightly.

Rizzo puts his empty glass down and gets up, nods to the exit. “Come on.”

Slowly I sit up, eyes wandering over his slender, muscular body again. To. die. for. Bronze with a

touch of gold, shimmering silkily, and how does he manage not to look like a drowned corpse in this

light?

“Where are we going?”

“Some place warmer.”

I’m not even sure I can take any more warmth tonight.

* * *

This is so cliched it feels surreal. We’re lying on the enormous white couch in the living room, staring

into crackling flames dancing in the fireplace. Well, I am. Rizzo’s watching me instead. Whatever it is, I

wish he would just say it.

I never thought that there are people actually living like this, because it looks like something from

the movies, or in some really fashionable decor mag. I bet their interior designer cost twice as much as

the furniture. Everything just looks so damn expensive that I hardly dare touch a thing. I guess it’s true

what Rizzo said earlier. These rooms aren’t meant to be lived in, but to represent. Represent what? That

you can spend incredible amounts of money on furnishing your home with beautiful but entirely useless

things? And yet it all looks so empty, lonely somehow.

The aromatic smell of firewood and smoke fills my nostrils, heavy and real. The dancing flames in

the fireplace are the only living thing here. And Rizzo. Rizzo with that unreadable, pensive look on his

face as he watches me. A trace of a smile is always lingering in the corners of his mouth.

Suddenly Rizzo reaches over, and lean fingers cover the distance, invading my personal space. Even

though I don’t really mind, I can’t help jumping slightly at his touch. He gently lifts my arm a little to

let the firelight fall onto my skin. “You never told me where these are from.”

He’s talking about the scars, of course. At other times, with less alcohol coursing through my veins, I

would have pulled back immediately. I would have said something harsh, bitten out fast and hard like a

snake. Or maybe just told him to go to hell. Plan B. I almost smile. If things were that simple…

“What makes you think I would?”

“Because I’m asking. Because I want to know.” His eyes are uncharacteristically honest and serious.

Has he really been wondering about them all this time?

I don’t reply. I just look at him laying there in the firelight, beautiful and perfect like a young Greek

god. His skin so flawless, and in spite of what he’s trying to make believe, a tiny trace of innocence still

left in his eyes. And yet, tonight for the first time, I realize that Rizzo has his own wounds. And for

some reason unknown to me, it touches me somehow.

I still don’t pull back when he lifts his other hand and gently begins to trace the scars that cover my

skin. I don’t pull back when he moves closer. And I know that I probably should pull back when he

starts to kiss the fine, white marks, but I don’t.

I just sit there, watching him, feeling the soft, tender touch of his lips, and I swallow hard. Looking

up, he notices the look on my face, and pulls himself up to a sitting position, close to me. There’s no

fake sympathy in his eyes, but something unmistakably sincere that makes me realize that he really

cares. And that he won’t judge me, or try to help me, or pity me, or any of that shit.

“His name was Simon,” I whisper hoarsely, and exhale.

Chapter 3

Rebaptism

DANNY: I think it was me who started the kissing, but it doesn’t really matter anyway. What I

definitely know is that his lips parted willingly when I slid my tongue in, that his hand pulled me close

like he was clinging to a lifeline.

James moaned in my ears, and my skin burned with desire. Thoughts rotated in my head, all the

things he’d said turning into a blur of his secret pain and my anger.

Simon. J’s stepfather, whose belt buckles, and other possessions abused as instruments of torture, left

traces on him that go beneath the flesh. Simon, who turned this beautiful boy into a cynical mess of selfhate

so intense that nothing and no one can get through that barrier. There are different kinds of scars on

his body, and they can’t all be Simon’s doing. I’ve seen this before, I know what it looks like, and that’s

disturbing and creepy on a whole different level. I know that what I’ve heard tonight is but a fraction of

James’ story. He didn’t even say that much, actually. But those few words were enough. Or maybe they

were all that I could bear, because suddenly my lips were on his.

“Rizzo, we shouldn’t…”

“Danny. Say it. Say my name.”

“Danny.” His eyes were holding mine, and I was hard like never before. Like in a fever, sore,

bleeding deep inside. Just like him. How was this happening?

He likes it rough, that’s obvious. Likes it when there’s pain involved, but despises himself for it. We

both know that the world isn’t some happy little fairytale, and pleasure and pain go hand in hand. I’d

gladly be the one he takes his rage out on anytime. But not tonight. There was enough pain already, and

he just looks so wounded.

Fine pearls of sweat are glistening in the hollow between his neck and his collarbone, and I bend

down to lick them off with the tip of my tongue. Salty and sweet, like teardrops.

“Danny,” he says again, and his eyelids flutter closed when a small, aroused moan escapes his lips.

I move as gently as I can inside of him, wanting to give him nothing but pleasure. I dreamed of

doing this, god, countless times. I never thought he’d let me. He doesn’t open his eyes when I start to

whisper words I thought I’d never say to anyone. My voice doesn’t seem like my own, sounds husky,

sounds too tender to belong to me.

Passion takes over, words get choppy. He opens his eyes and looks at me, his face a mask of pure

ecstasy. He comes in waves, buckling slightly, and I finally let go myself, and Jesus Christ, it’s too

good, it’s too intense to describe.

When I pull out of him, I tug him close immediately, and he curls up in my arms like a child. We

look at each other, and I run my fingers down the side of his face. “You’re so beautiful.”

I didn’t mean to say that aloud. I wince slightly, expecting a sarcastic reply, but it doesn’t come. He

just smiles a little. Like it’s something he’d like to believe, if he only could. Whatever it was that just

happened between us, it’s clear that something’s changed. And it’s kind of scary. I’ll be damned.

This time it’s definitely him who kisses me first. I wish that I could sink into that kiss, sink into him

completely. Shit, I’m such a whore for him. I don’t even mind. I’ll be whatever he wants me to be, if

that’s what it takes for him to let me in.

He breaks the kiss and licks his lips, watches me watching him. “Danny.” Thoughtfully he lets my

name roll over his tongue, smiles unbelievingly. “Fuck.”

A broad grin steals onto my face, and I can’t resist. “Gladly. Just give me a couple of minutes.”

We both start to laugh, and it chases the vulnerable moment away. Thank god. His breath is soft and

warm on my face, and there’s a sparkle in his eyes that wasn’t there before. And there’s that strange

craving again, stirring underneath my skin. He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again. Smiles.

Just a little, just enough for me to understand.

I nod, his smile mirrored by my own. If there’s a VIP area inside of James’ heart, I guess I just got

my member’s card.

Chapter 4

Home Is Where The Hurt Is

JAMES: Sometimes I wonder if there are mistakes you simply have to make. Maybe when you look

back to them some time later, you’ll find they weren’t mistakes at all. I don’t know what suddenly

makes me think of the day I pushed him against the wall in his dorm room, when the way he touched

me seemed so wrong and felt so right. Now leaving seems like the only right thing to do, but it doesn’t

feel right at all.

“Stay,” he pleads softly when I open the door, his hand reaching out to cup my face, his lips close.

“Don’t leave because of her.”

I can’t reply, I simply lean in for a kiss. Just one more moment. Just him and me.

Somehow I know that the look in his dark eyes will be haunting me. The sound of the door closing

behind me is harsh, cruel even to my own ears. But I can’t change it, I’m scared shitless. Scared of

allowing him to get closer, and even more underneath my skin than he already is. The truth is, I don’t

think I want to get to know him that well. God knows what will happen if I do.

* * *

Fall is coming. I can smell it in the air when I step off of the bus and begin to walk down the old road to

our house. It’s the smell of decay, so distinctive that even the first colorful leaves, dancing in the mild

breeze like drunken butterflies, can’t cover it up. Two more weeks and it’s back to school. It used to be

a relief returning to Woodhaven, but I don’t have that refuge anymore. No matter if I go back or stay,

the same questions, the same problems will be lurking at the back of my mind. Things have gotten

worse with Mom again, and there’s nothing I can do for her. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the

night and want to scream at the top of my lungs, because the walls seem to be closing in, and I’m

useless, helpless, worthless just like way back then.

Home again. As I slowly climb the three steps to the porch, the familiar lump of worry forms in my

stomach and it’s getting harder to breathe. Holding my bag in a sweaty hand, completely unaware of its

weight, I just stand there for a moment, staring at the screen door. It doesn’t help to know that Simon’s

gone, because nothing’s changed. My senses still sharpen and my whole body tenses. It’s ridiculous

how well these learned automatisms work, even if they’re no longer needed.

The key turns with a soft click, and the door springs open with a pitiful creak. Must remember to oil

it before I go back to university.

“Jimmy, is that you?” Mom calls weakly from the battered couch in the living room. She hardly ever

leaves it anymore. The TV is babbling dully in the background, too low to understand, its only purpose

to keep her company and chase away the lonely silence. I sigh, put my bag down and enter, forcing a

smile.

“Hey, Mom. I’m back.”

She’s a mess, which doesn’t surprise me much. I bet she hasn’t showered since I left. Pale and

skinny, drowning in her shabby pajamas that she won’t part with, despite them being two sizes too

large. She puts out her cigarette and waves her hand to make the smoke go away. She knows I hate it

when she smokes. Simon’s favorite brand. I try not to inhale the cold, bitter stench that fills the room.

“Was it nice with Casey?”

“That was last month, Mom. I was in Boston, with another friend. I told you, remember?”

“Oh yes. Yes, of course.” She smiles, but I know she doesn’t have a clue what I’m talking about.

She’ll probably have forgotten this conversation by the time I go upstairs. I know the look in her eyes

all too well, stuck somewhere between reality and her own world. I cross the room and open the

window to let in some fresh air.

“Did you take your meds?”

“I’ve been a good girl all week. Well, I forgot on Tuesday, but I think I didn’t…” She trails off, her

eyes focusing on the flickering TV screen. Great. She didn’t take them, otherwise she wouldn’t be in

this state. Without a word I go into the kitchen and bring her the pills and a glass of water.

She accepts them with a smile and strokes my arm when I bow down to her. “Thanks, sweetie. What

would I do without my big boy?”

Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t even want to think about going back to Woodhaven and leaving her

alone again. I place a little kiss on her cold cheek and try to look cheerful, when I’m really all but.

“Do you need anything else? Are you hungry?”

She smiles, and for some reason, it hurts to see. I remember what her smiles used to be like before

she became so frail, a mere shadow of a human being. I feel awful for having left her alone all week.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Fine. Right. She’s never been fine in her life. And things have never been right for us either. The

more time passes and the worse things get with her, the harder it’s getting to believe that they’ll ever be.

* * *

I turn on the shower, close my eyes and try to relax as a gentle stream of warm water runs down my

body. The images steal into my mind uninvited, but I close my eyes, allowing them to roam freely for a

while.

I don’t even remember how we got upstairs and into his bed last night, but that’s where I woke up.

Five in the morning, and it finally stopped raining a minute before dawn. The sun a pale ball of fire

crawling up behind the hills. Long rays of light fell through cracks in the clouds like messages from

some higher power above blessing the moist, satiated earth.

He was already awake, head propped up on his arm, watching me with a smile that widened when

our eyes met. His kiss was slow and soft, provoking emotions I never expected.

“Good morning,” he whispered, his smile audible in his voice, accompanied by a warm shimmer in

his eyes. No morning had ever been so good.

* * *

I squeeze out a bit of shampoo onto the palm of my hand and spread it in my wet hair. It smells of cheap

perfume. His shampoo smelled of luxury and a world where anything’s possible. I can almost feel his

kiss through the water running down my back, the motions of his hands sexy and slow as they explore

my body…

Still waiting. I’m still waiting for regrets to come. I’m sure there has to come a moment when I will

start to feel bad about what happened. When I will begin to wonder how on earth I could do this to

Casey. It seems incredibly wrong to feel so good when I should be feeling guilty.

Maybe I’m too much of a bastard to care. But I know that’s not true. My feelings for Casey are

unchanged. And yet, everything’s changed. Because Rizzo changed. Or maybe he just showed me who

he’s always been, deep inside. Whatever it is that he’s done, suddenly he’s become this completely

amazing human being that makes me catch my breath just thinking of him. Heart skips a beat,

something flutters inside. It feels amazing, and yet, bittersweet. Because now there’s this craving, like I

left a part of me with him. Does he feel the same?

Danny. Aka the Artist Formerly Known As Rizzo. He’s not the same. I’m not the same. And none of

this really makes sense to me. I can’t even think straight. Right now, I just feel.

He was kissing me when she opened the door and walked in, nearly giving us both a heart attack.

“Jesus Christ!” Danny swore and sat up straight in bed. “Can’t you knock?”

The woman crossed her arms in front of her chest and arched a fine eyebrow. “I don’t see why I

should knock in my own house.”

Her voice was unusually deep, a husky, sexy drawl. Shocked by her appearance, I could only stare at

her stupidly. This was Danny’s mom? Holy shit. I don’t know what I’d expected, but man, she was

gorgeous. Tall and beautiful, like a model. Long, blonde curls and dreamy gray eyes, perfect make-up,

designer dress. Looking so young she could have been Danny’s older sister. So that’s where his largerthan-

life presence came from.

He crossed his arms too and frowned. When he spoke there was a coldness in his voice I didn’t

recognize at all. “Damn it, Lilah. What the hell are you doing here anyway?”

“Where’s Paula?” She simply ignored his question, and from the cool, businesslike sound of it, she

might as well have been talking to an employee instead of her son.

“I gave her the week off.”

“For Christ’s sake, Daniel. Look at the state this place is in!”

“What’s it to you? You were supposed to be in France.”

There was an awkward silence in which they just stared at each other. I’d come out of my shock

enough to be horribly embarrassed, not knowing where to look. Being caught in bed with a guy by his

mother ranked pretty high on my top ten list of Things I Don’t Ever Want to Happen.

“So why are you back already?” Danny seemed all but happy about his mother’s unexpectedly early

return, and clearly not only because she was interrupting.

She rolled her eyes and sighed a little, which made her appear less like a goddess and more like a

human being. Well, slightly.

“You’ll be pleased to hear that Frank and I had a terrible fight. I couldn’t stand to see his face

anymore.”

The news was taken with a small, careless shrug. I thought I saw a small spark of triumph in his dark

orbs. “Are you getting another divorce, then?”

“We’ll see,” she replied matter-of-factly. Then she looked at me for the first time, strangely enough

in a casual way, as if I weren’t lying naked under the covers with her son. This was so bizarre.

“So, Daniel. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

* * *

The sound of the phone ringing is shrill, far too loud. I forgot how annoying it was. It’s not like we get a

lot of calls around here. Mom surely won’t get it, so I quickly step out of the shower and wrap a towel

around my waist, and hurry downstairs as fast as I can. She won’t mind if I leave puddles on the floor.

She won’t even notice.

“Hello?”

“Hello right back to you, Jimmy boy.”

There’s nothing I can do to stop a silly, happy smile from stealing onto my face. So good, so

relieving to hear his voice. “Danny.”

“The one and only. Hey, you know, I was just thinking that it’s been ages since we talked.” My smile

deepens as I listen to his warm, soft voice.

I chuckle softly. “Yeah, it’s almost been two hours, hasn’t it?”

“I know. It’s unforgivable. I should have called sooner.”

I laugh softly, picturing the grin on his face and the mischievous sparkle in the beautiful dark eyes

that surely accompanies his words.

When he continues to speak, he suddenly sounds thoughtful. “Seriously, though, there’s something

I’d like to ask you.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

“You didn’t leave because of Lilah. You left because of me.”

Oh damn. “Technically, that wasn’t a question,” I grin, trying to gain time before I answer. Which he

knows, I’m sure. But damn… Honesty is highly overrated. I don’t want to hurt him. Which is insane,

considering that just a couple of months ago I would have jumped at the opportunity to strike a blow.

“Damn it, J. Just tell me. I want the truth.”

“Do we have to do this?” I sigh and sink down on the chair beside the phone. “Can’t we just… enjoy

it?”

He laughs a little. “Hey, I’m all for it, but the whole you running out on me thing makes it kind of

hard.”

“I’m sorry.” I rub my eyes and sigh again. Why is it so difficult to tell him what I feel, why I left?

“Don’t apologize. I’m not Mills. I’m not asking you to analyze and interpret, or whatever it is the

two of you do all day. I’d just like to know where I stand.”

I nod, forgetting that he can’t see through the receiver. I guess he deserves to know. “The truth.

Okay. The truth is… I’m not sure if I’m ready for this kind of thing. Whatever it is.”

There’s a pause, and I nervously run my fingers through my wet hair.

Danny’s voice is calm when he speaks, and yet I can hear his anger. “Don’t think so much, James.

Do what you want. So, do you want to see me, or not?”

I close my eyes, suddenly wishing I could simply reach through the line and pull him close for a

kiss. The aching is running wild in the pit of my stomach, my heart is beating madly, and my skin

tingles, needy for his presence. If he could see me right now, words wouldn’t be necessary.

Telling him the truth would be a bad mistake. Because up until now I could have fooled myself,

made believe it was a one time thing. I could have put the blame on him, because he started it. And still,

the words leave my mouth like they have a mind of their own.

“I want to see you.”

“I’m on my way.”

Chapter 5

Mothers

DANNY: The house isn’t hard to spot with James sitting on the steps leading to the front porch, waiting

for me as I pull into the driveway. I stare at the plain building through the windshield as I turn off the

engine, wondering why it feels surreal to be here now. I don’t know what I expected.

Maybe something with a bit more of a “Psycho” feel to it. Dark and rundown, somewhere on the

outskirts of town, yeah, that would have been something. But this is almost disappointingly normal. Just

your average suburban family home. Lower middleclass. Could use some work here and there, but

there’s nothing unusual about it.

As I get out of the car and walk towards the lonely figure on the porch, he frowns at me and raises a

hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight. I guess it’s still creepy, someone with a history like James

growing up in a place like this. Could be anyone’s neighbor, and you’d never notice. Could happen

behind any of these ordinary doors lining the street.

He gets up when I reach him and I take off my dark glasses, blinking as my eyes adjust to the

brighter light. Brilliant blue with a trace of green, James’ eyes sparkle beautifully in the sunlight,

revealing their true color.

“You could have saved yourself the trouble of coming if you hadn’t hung up so soon.”

I shrug and grin. “It’s good to see you too, Jimmy boy.”

A smile flashes across his lips, but he shakes his head, the frown deepening. He fidgets with the

seam of his shirt absent-mindedly, avoiding my gaze. Haven’t seen him so tense since before we first

shagged. “What’s up?”

“Mom isn’t doing well. You shouldn’t have come. Now’s not a good time.”

“Ah.” I sit down on the steps beside where he stands, unable to hide a small smile.

James looks down at me, eyes blazing in the light, as he snaps irritably, “No need to get comfy.

You’re not staying. And what the hell are you grinning at anyway?”

My smile widens when I look up, taking him in as he stands there like some pissed off watchdog. I

like those tight jeans, and the view from down here couldn’t be better. Hello there – he looks good in his

plain black T-shirt.

I like it when he’s mad with me, I admit it. But damn, he’s irresistible when he’s seething under the