Текст книги "Triangle: The Complete Series"

Автор книги: Susann Julieva

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surface. Or when he’s just playing angry because he’s scared, like now.

“Am I too much for you?” I ask amusedly, raising an eyebrow and crossing my arms in front of my

chest to show that I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. Well, unless I’m invited upstairs to his room,

that is.

“What? Damn it, Rizzo…” He trails off, seeming to notice that he fell back into his old habit of

calling me that name. He lets out a deep sigh and finally sinks down on the steps beside me.

James stares at his shoes for a moment before he looks at me, and our eyes meet for the first time

since I’ve arrived.

“Danny, I’m serious. I can’t invite you in. You don’t know what it’s like… what she’s like on days

like this.”

I can’t hide a smirk. “Hey, you’ve met Lilah. How bad can it be? “

This time, he actually smiles. We look at each other for a long moment, and it feels good, him

looking at me. I swear I can see his insecurity slowly melting away, the tenseness vanishing. But still he

doesn’t seem to fully relax. Hard to believe that he was still in my bed just a couple of hours ago, and

now we have to start over again. Hi, I’m Danny. Mind if I kiss you?

“Do you really want me to leave?” I ask seriously, never taking my eyes off his face.

James shakes his head, but sighs again. He’s been thinking, hasn’t he? Probably about Mills, and this

whole messed up situation. He wouldn’t be James if he didn’t worry. Yay for me, for giving the boy a

brand-new reason to hate himself.

“It’s just… weird, you being here, is all.”

“How so?”

He doesn’t answer, he just continues to look at me. I don’t know why he seems so sad somehow. For

a horrible second I can almost hear him telling me that this isn’t working for him, and my heart sinks.

Ouch. Boy, I’m deeper in this than I ever expected.

“What am I doing here, Danny? I gotta be out of my mind.” J shakes his head in disbelief, frowning

again. He gets up and takes two steps to the door, opens the screen. Pauses, and looks back over his

shoulder, his voice sounding almost angry when he speaks again.

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

* * *

She looks younger in the framed family picture sitting on the side of the kitchen table, pretty, almost

beautiful. Three smiles, two of them seeming a little too happy to be for real. And this, I guess, must be

Simon, with his arms around Mrs. Foley and the pale, skinny boy who can’t hide that he’s not

comfortable with the touch, or with playing happy family.

I stare at the face of the man in the middle, while James opens the fridge door and gets both of us a

soda. Simon seems nice. He’s a tall man with dark hair, not bad-looking either. A man’s man, someone

everybody respects and likes to call their buddy. Hardworking, taking care of his family, and usually out

for a couple of beers with the boys on Saturday night. Sporty, probably into football. Or baseball. Of

course! That’s why James was on a baseball team. No wonder he doesn’t like to talk about it. While

Simon’s smile seems genuine, there’s a frosty authority in his eyes that sends a shiver down my spine.

My gaze wanders over to a small variety of pill bottles thoughtlessly left on the table. More out of

boredom than out of actual interest, I take a closer look at some of them.

“Lorazepam… Remergil… Haloperidol?” Alarmed, I look at James as he comes over. This shit isn’t

aspirin, man.

“They’re Mom’s,” he explains briskly and quickly puts them out of sight, along with a couple of

other meds standing around.

I watch him opening his can and taking a big gulp, not touching mine. “Jesus, what did that bastard

do to the two of you?”

Slowly James puts down his soda, his expression blank, only his eyes are alive. “Don’t,” is all he

says, very quietly, but it’s all it takes for me to understand.

So I don’t speak, don’t question him further. No matter how much I simply need to know, I just can’t

torture him like that. Instead, I cross the distance between us and simply kiss him. He stands still,

almost stiff for a moment, but then he leans into the kiss and his hands are on my back, pulling me

close.

When we stop, there’s that haunted look on his face again, and I wish I knew what to do. But it’s not

like I have much experience in the field. I don’t have much experience in any of the fields he’s taking

me to. And that’s not something that happens to me often.

* * *

“You like my Jimmy, I can tell.”

It’s late in the afternoon, and Mrs. Foley and I are smoking in the kitchen while James is mowing the

lawn behind the house. She was really out of it this morning, but she’s behaving pretty normally now.

“It’s the meds,” James explained. “She forgets to take them, and the withdrawal has all kinds of nasty

side-effects.” Oh yeah, baby, the happy pills strike back.

With her hair washed and some make-up on her pale face, J’s mom is almost pretty, and I guess she’s

not nearly as old as she seemed when I arrived. They’ve got the same eyes, James and her. A kind of

faded blue, like a sky full of rain clouds. She seems pretty straightforward and has the same dry sense of

humor he does, which I like. I blow out a cloud of smoke before I speak, smiling at her.

“You’re damn right about that, Mrs. Foley.”

“You know about Casey?”

I nod and grimace, and she reacts with an amused little half-smile that looks familiar.

“Casey’s a nice boy, really. Jimmy absolutely adores him.” She pauses, takes a drag on her cigarette,

and tiredly rubs her eyes when she exhales. “But that’s not a good basis for a relationship.”

Surprised, I arch an eyebrow. Not only is she cool with her son having a boyfriend, and me being

here anyway, she’s also questioning J’s relationship with every mother’s dream son-in-law. Guess the

old lady’s not as gone as James made it sound. Man, I like her.

“What’s a good basis, then?”

“Honesty. Trust. What do you think is the most important thing?”

I shrug nonchalantly and give her a charming smile. “Enlighten me.”

She smiles back at me, but doesn’t answer for a long moment, just stares into the distance with

thoughtful eyes. Just when I think she’s forgotten me completely, she replies after all. “It’s the ability to

accept a person’s flaws without wanting to change them. Most people don’t have that.”

“I think you’re a very wise woman, Mrs. Foley.”

“Don’t think that flattery will help you pass my inspection,” she teases, eyeing me from the other

side of the kitchen table.

“How am I doing so far?” I grin.

She chuckles softly. “Hard to say. I’m not sure if you’d be exactly right for my boy, or a complete

disaster. I think you have the possibility for both in you.”

“You know, you’re probably right again.”

James’ mom laughs, and her laugh reminds me of him. They’re alike in many ways, maybe that’s

why we kinda seem to click. I know it’s weird, but I almost envy them, J and her. The way they get

along. They seem to know each other so well. Lilah and I never had anything like that.

Sometimes when my mother looks at me, I have a feeling all she sees is a reminder of my father’s

failures and her disappointment in him. After all these years, she’s still bitter, unable to forgive. I can’t

help it, though. I’m my father’s son. I always have been, and there was a time when she was crazy about

both of us. She used to call me “Little Grazzo”, because Grazzo’s what everybody called my dad. The

Great Graziano Rizzo. Back then Lilah couldn’t resist him, but hey, no woman could. I was still a little

kid, but I remember the way she looked at me back then. I remember her being happy. I’ve never seen

her like that again, ever since the divorce.

Looking at Mrs. Foley I notice that she’s still wearing her wedding ring, and I wonder if that’s what

she did. If she accepted Simon’s flaws, and if she loved him, in spite of what he did to her and James. I

think she’d have more reason not to forgive than Lilah does. But look who’s talking. It’s not like there’s

nothing in my life that I haven’t forgiven.

There’s the sound of footsteps in the hall and we look at each other when James enters the room.

Without a word, we both reach for the ashtray and put out our cigarettes. I realize how strange this scene

must look when I see the little smirk on James’ face.

“You two seem to be getting along pretty well.” He sounds astonished.

“We have a vice in common.” I wink at her, and she smiles as she pushes her chair back and very

slowly gets up, making it suddenly obvious that she’s not as well as it seemed just a moment ago.

“We have more than that in common, I think,” Mrs. Foley says mysteriously. Her eyes linger

lovingly on her grown son for a moment before she turns around and leaves the room.

I nod to myself, smiling a little. Guess she’s right about that, too.

Chapter 6

Caught In The Middle

JAMES: Hell if I ever imagined anything like this. Danny “Freakin’ Sex-god” Rizzo sprawled out on

my old bed, flipping through a tattered comic book. That’s just weird.

Right now, he’s right in the middle of my past, in what used to be my sanctuary. Everything here is

exactly the way I left it the day I went away for college. Hanging from the ceiling, there’s the old

airplane model I made when I was twelve, transporting a thick layer of dust. The classic Star Trek

poster has clearly seen better days, as well as the huge celestial chart on the opposite wall that I’ve

always loved. Beside it hangs the framed picture of Mickey Mouse, complete with a faded autograph, a

treasured memory of the one time we went to Disneyland. I think I was five then, because it wasn’t too

long after Mom married Simon. The whole concept of having a dad was still new to me. I can still

remember what it felt like. I’m pretty sure Simon really liked me back then. He let me ride on his

shoulders and bought me ice-cream. That was before he discovered that I was a hopeless case.

I’m sure to Danny this is just a room, nothing more. But these four walls know everything about me.

They’ve seen it all, heard it all. There’s a tale behind every stain on the floor, behind every scratch in the

furniture. It’s true that most of my childhood wasn’t all too happy. But there were good times too, and

this ugly old room helps me remember.

I lean against the door and glance at my watch. “It’s getting late.”

“Your mom invited me to stay. Did I mention that I like her?” He grins at me, looking up briefly

with that irresistible sparkle in his eyes. “You really have a thing for Spider-Man, don’t you?”

“Danny… no. Just no. You and me in this house…” I shake my head, walk over, and sink down on

the bed beside him. “I really don’t think so.”

He props his head up on his arm, and eyes me thoughtfully. “Suppose nothing happened.”

I laugh out loud. “Yeah, right.”

He pulls me down to him so that my head rests on his stomach, and tousles my hair. I slap his hand

away and we grin at each other.

“Okay, so maybe it seems unlikely,” he admits, still grinning. “But it could happen.”

“In an alternate universe, some other time.”

We laugh again and he groans loudly, and sinks back onto the pillow. “Oh you just don’t trust me.”

“Damn right.” My amused smirk slides off my face when I notice the look in his eyes. “You’re

serious, aren’t you?”

Slowly I roll off his stomach and lie down properly by his side. “What are you saying? You want to,

like, just sleep here? Talk all night? Cuddle? Sing me a lullaby?”

“Fuck off,” he says quietly, his voice a little hoarse. The brown eyes are laughing like they always

do, but I know him well enough now to realize that I just hurt him. Wow. The Great, Untouchable Rizzo

who doesn’t care about anything or anyone. But he cares about me, and it makes him vulnerable. And

that’s a good thing, because otherwise he might get too close, and there’d be nothing I could do about it.

It suddenly hits me, lying here beside him, taking in his perfect face. The soft curves of his lips, the

shape of his dark eyes, and the way they seem like windows to his soul. I’m in high danger of falling for

this impossible guy. And that’s just something that can never happen.

“I mean it, Danny. I appreciate you coming by. It was good to see you. But you can’t stay tonight.”

He smiles, and his breath washes over my face like a tender touch when he turns to me. “Hey, I

know that, smartass. You tell me something thrice and I get it immediately.”

I can’t help but grin and take a deep breath in a futile attempt to make every fiber of my body stop

screaming: Please stay.

* * *

I’d never have thought that it could take so much willpower to close the door behind the very person I

used to hate with a passion not very long ago. It takes me five whole minutes to get Danny to leave the

house, and I’m actually beginning to wonder if I should let him stay after all when he finally steps

outside. I close the door so quickly that it’s probably rude, but I’m really just trying to keep myself from

following him.

I take a deep breath and start to turn around when he knocks again.

God, he’s impossible. I open the door with a smile, shaking my head. “What?”

“Forgot something.”

Before I can ask what it is, he pulls me close and kisses me deeply. And I’m done for. I wonder if

that feeling I get every time he kisses me will ever fade away. It’s like I’m trying to push him away and

draw him near at the same time. Yeah, I’m one hell of a nutcase.

My fingers dig into Danny’s shirt as I pull him close, inhaling his scent. His skin smells so good, it’s

driving me crazy. That mischievous grin of his is just damn irresistible.

“Knew I left it here.”

“God, that was cheesy.”

Danny winks at me. “And you totally dug it.”

I laugh as he turns and walks down the driveway to his car, and I bet he knows how gorgeous his ass

looks in those tight jeans. The sun hangs low in the sky, a ball of orange fire that casts long shadows

across the lawn. It smells of freshly mowed grass and earth, spicy and relaxing.

“See ya, Jimmy boy.”

I raise my hand in a semi-wave, hesitating for a second before I go back inside, closing the door

firmly behind me. Somehow I don’t want to watch as he drives away. It might make me feel even

lonelier.

* * *

The house feels incredibly empty now that he’s gone, and eerily silent. I can hear the monotone ticking

of the large clock in the living room, the fridge hums lowly in the kitchen. A door closes upstairs and

Mom slowly begins to descend the stairs. I don’t want to see her right now, because she would ask

about Danny. She’d want to talk, and I really have nothing to say that I’d want her to hear. Quickly I

turn to my right, and I’m halfway in the kitchen when I hear a knock at the door again.

Oh thank god. I don’t even try to hide my relief when I run to the door and tear it open. “What have

you forgotten… now.”

“Not you, James, that’s for sure.”

I don’t know if the warm chuckle of the vision standing in front of me has anything to do with the

completely dumbfounded look on my face, but my guess is, it does.

The sun is setting, illuminating his slender form like an aura, and in spite of the shadows on his face,

his eyes are shining brightly.

“Hey, you,” he says softly, stepping closer.

My moment of shock passes, and I can feel my face starting to beam. “Casey! You’re back!”

He just grabs me and pulls me into a hug. When I feel his arms around me, him leaning into me, and

our bodies seeming to fit like two pieces of a puzzle, I slowly exhale and close my eyes. For a few

precious seconds the world stands still and everything is wonderful. It’s him, he’s here, and I’m home.

Then I remember what I did, and Danny, who is still so close that I’m sure you could smell his scent

on me. And I feel like the biggest creep on the face of this earth.

“I missed you,” Casey whispers and gives me a little kiss.

I swallow, but I know my eyes don’t lie when I look at him, because my feelings are honest. “I

missed you too, Case. I missed you too.”

End of Book 2

Back to Table of Contents

Book 3

Recast

by Susann Julieva & Romelle Engel

Chapter 1

Porcelain

JAMES: I think by now we’ve successfully established that I’m a big old geek. Not surprisingly, I

always look forward to going back to school after summer. But this semester, things have changed. It

feels like I’ve brought more baggage with me than I meant to. Because someone here knows now.

Because he knows.

What I told Danny about my stepfather is nothing but the tiniest fraction of a multivolume tale, and

yet he seems to guess too much already. I don’t believe in psychoanalysis. I think there’s a reason why

we suppress certain memories, and some things are just meant to stay buried. There’s more than enough

that I do remember as it is. And that’s some good shit, man, take it and smoke it in your therapeutic

pipe, or otherwise shove it up your ass and leave me and my oh so meaningful nightmares alone.

The truth is, I loved Simon, just as fiercely as I hated him. But maybe one lesson, the most important

I need to learn, is to make peace with all of that and accept that it’s in the past. And more than that, to

finally let it go. If I can only get one step closer to it this semester, I may have learned more than in my

entire school days combined. But they don’t teach you about life in European Literature class, do they?

Outside my window, dawn is quiet and colorless, September gray. I’ve barely slept tonight and I’ve

been up for an hour, but I can’t concentrate on studying for the life of me. Casey’s still asleep in my

bed, breathing evenly – and there’s peace. Deep and rich, and real. The words are endlessly rotating in

my mind: How could I possibly leave him?

Of course, it’s entirely Professor Kinderman’s fault for telling me. Woodhaven has an exclusive

student exchange program with the Free University in Berlin. Every two years, they’re granting a full

scholarship to the best applicant. Which means that you get to go to Germany to study there for one

year, all expenses paid. And you get to travel Europe during semester break for cheaper than you

imagine in your wildest dreams. Kinderman’s on the selection board, and he’s the one who talked me

into applying last semester. Seriously, I never thought I’d actually have a shot. Good things happen to

good people, and hell knows, I’m not one of them. So why should it happen to me?

And then the prof asks me to stay on after class yesterday, and he basically tells me that I’m shortlisted.

In other words, I might actually get this. They’ll make their decision at the end of next month,

and that leaves me about six more weeks to torture myself. Because I want this, more than anything. I’d

get to learn about European politics first hand, and that’s priceless for someone wanting to be a

journalist. I’d get to live in a different culture, on another continent, where everything just oozes history.

I’d be able to visit Paris, stroll down the Rue de Rivoli. Gaze at the Forum Romanum in Rome, at the

steps where Caesar was murdered. Look at Rembrandt’s paintings in Amsterdam. Take a boat trip on the

water streets of Venice, and stare in amazement at palaces of mighty emperors and kings that died

hundreds of years before I was born. I’d live in a city that was divided by a wall for forty years and has

become a cultural boiling point of East and West, creating something fresh and exciting. This is the city

Bowie and Iggy went to to come clean, and hell, if it worked for them, it sure can’t hurt another screwed

up wreck like me. I’d get to get away from it all, for once and for all. If I get the scholarship. If I go. But

if I go… it means leaving everyone I care about behind. It means leaving Mom, who can barely take

care of herself as it is. And it means leaving Casey, when I’ve only just found him. He doesn’t even

know about this yet. I never told a soul that I applied.

In any case, Berlin and the scholarship are still nine months away. But what are nine months when

you’re at school? It’ll pass in the blink of an eye. And the entire Atlantic is no distance to be

underestimated. There’s no way I could ask Casey to wait for me.

This is the chance of a lifetime. But it’s like I’m keeping my fingers crossed for something I fear to

happen. Just the right kind of food for schizophrenic me.

I can sense that Casey is awake even before he begins to stir underneath the covers. Then he lies still

for a moment, yawns, and looks at me, sitting fully dressed at my desk with my legs drawn up. The

sight doesn’t seem to surprise him. He smiles, and glances at the clock.

“Christ. What are you doing up at this hour?”

“Thinking.”

“I’d be shocked to find you not thinking for once,” he grins and groans a little when he sits up. His

hair is standing up in every direction.

I wait for him to come to me, looking all too tempting in nothing but his shorts. His body is still

wonderfully warm from bed when we kiss.

“What were you racking your brains over this time?”

“Nothing important.”

“That wouldn’t be the same nothing that always makes you toss and turn at night?”

“Geez, do I do that?”

Casey shrugs lightly, turns around and jumps onto the desk beside me. “Where do you think this is

from?” Legs dangling, he shows me a small bluish bruise on his arm, and my eyes widen with shock,

but he’s smiling.

“Oh shit. Tell me I didn’t give you that!”

“You didn’t. You just tend to… move a lot in your sleep, is all. I just happened to be in the way.”

“God, I’m sorry.” I feel awful. What the hell is wrong with me? Well, okay, I know what’s wrong

with me, but this is just plain scary. You don’t get a bruise like that easily. That must have been a pretty

good whack.

“Don’t be.” He leans over and rests his head on my shoulder, yawns again. “I don’t mind. I like

sleeping here.”

“Well, perhaps you shouldn’t.”

He smiles and places a little kiss on my neck. “Don’t be a dick. I’m not made of porcelain.”

Perhaps I should be reminded of that more often, because I still tend to treat him like he is. He’s too

precious to me to behave otherwise. I’ve always been different around him, but it feels like I’m even

more so now that we’re together.

There’s so much he doesn’t know about me. And that is a very good thing. Although it would help

sometimes if he realized that not everyone’s brought up in a happy home with a kid sister and a dog

named Cookie, I prefer for him to not recognize me as the hopelessly twisted lunatic I probably am.

Right, gotta get back on the sleeping pills then. They used to knock me out with the tenderness of a

sledgehammer, which might help in avoiding future domestic violence. Ah, the things you do to not

involuntary give your boyfriend solid beatings at night.

Speaking of avoiding, I haven’t seen Danny since the day he came to visit me over the summer and

left mere minutes before Casey arrived. By the way, I still get a heart attack just thinking of how

freaking close that was.

He called me on the phone several times, but I cleverly missed it all by simply never being home.

Mom handed me a small bundle of messages one night and shook her head. “I took these before he

came by later this afternoon. I had a hard time trying to convince him that you really weren’t here.

Remarkably persistent, this one.”

“Tell me about it.”

“You really should talk to him, Jimmy. Putting it off won’t solve the problem.”

As much as I love her, those words weren’t exactly what I was keen to hear. And I know that Danny

deserves at least an explanation. But that would involve me looking him in the face and resisting the

irresistible. And what am I supposed to tell him anyway?

Luckily for me, even after one week back at Woodhaven Casey is still too consumed by the usual

start of semester rush to take notice of me coming up with absurd excuses every time Danny appears on

the horizon. But that won’t work for much longer. I really might have to emigrate then.

Truth be told, I don’t trust myself when it comes to Danny. Not even enough to go over and talk to

him in a public place. The dilemma of dilemmas, when trying to avoid further damage might just have

the opposite result.

Swear to god, I had no intention of sleeping with him when I went to visit. And I seem to remember

having made that fact pretty clear to Danny, too. But you know what he’s like. And I’m still not feeling

the guilt I should be feeling. Because it was right that night, it was exactly what I needed. He was

exactly what I needed, and he knew.

But how can I be sure that it won’t happen again? I can’t be sure, and so my only chance is to stay

away. He doesn’t make it easy for me, though. Everywhere I go, everywhere I turn, he seems to be

there. Paranoid much, Foley?

He slid a message under my door once, just a piece of paper, folded in the middle. When I opened it,

all it said was “Jimmy Boy”. It gave me a pretty creepy Fatal Attraction moment that I so didn’t need.

But after the initial shock had passed, I recognized it for what it really was, and it made me smile.

Because I could hear him say it, close to my ear, his voice mocking, but soft. And I could see his dark

eyes twinkling at me, and that deadly “you know you want it” grin on his lips.

Good Lord, yes, I do want it. And much as I love his work, I disagree with Oscar Wilde. Yielding to

temptation can’t be the only way to get rid of it. There’s clearly another option, however unpleasant, but

without doubt effective: Castration.

* * *

Our little game of cat and mouse comes to an end when I leave after the school paper meeting on Friday

afternoon. The sky behind the large windows is gray and tired, the light falling into the corridor only

dim. And there he suddenly is. The familiar handsome figure is leaning against the wall just opposite

the door, casting a shadow on me when I stop abruptly. Some blind idiot bumps into me and pushes me

forward, closer to him.

“Hey,” Danny says, drops his cigarette and grinds it out with his toe. It’s a non-smoking building.

Too dumbfounded to even echo his smile, I stand there, holding on to my books. “Hey.”

The brown eyes are mercilessly fixed on my face. He nods to his left, smiling a little. “The exit’s that

way, if you’re going to make a run for it again.”

“Look, I didn’t…”

“What?” He pushes himself off the wall and is suddenly standing much closer than is good for me.

“You didn’t what, James? Get my messages? Ignore me? No?”

He arches an eyebrow when I don’t answer. “I must have been imagining things then.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t feel too bad about it.”

“You forgive me? For thinking so badly of you?” Danny’s eyes are just twinkling as he dances

undecided between angry and amused. You little brat prince, you’re not used to this happening to you,

are you?

For the first time since I’ve met him, he seems unsure about how to act, which road to take. I decide

to give him a nudge into the direction I myself favor clearly.

“Sure, I forgive you, this one time. As long as it doesn’t happen again.”

“I promise it won’t.” Go me. Amused is clearly winning now, and a small grin curls his lips. He

leans in closely until our bodies almost touch and whispers close to my ear, “You fucker.”

I can’t help laughing softly, and step back a little to look into his eyes. “I am. I’m sorry.”

He tilts his head slightly to the side as if trying to decide whether to actually believe me, then he

smiles mysteriously and steps past me. “Come on.”

I knew it. I knew this would happen. Like a puppet on a string I follow as he saunters down the

corridor. It freaks me out just how effortlessly he gets me to do things I don’t want to. When I’m around

him, none of that seems to matter anymore. There’s some sort of connection, obviously, although I

really don’t get it. I don’t think it’s actually possible for two people to be less alike than him and me.

And still. He gets to me in ways that I never thought anyone would.

But what on earth, I wonder, is it that draws him to me? Why did he choose me of all people, to be

the one who gets to see the softer side of this bad boy?

* * *

The door of his dorm room closes behind me with a soft click. I’m such an idiot. The treacherous, needy

fever that had taken over my body the minute I noticed where he was leading me must have melted my

brain.

“I can’t do this.”

“I know.”

We’re standing side by side, leaning against the door, and the room is very quiet, holding its breath.

Funny how I don’t feel trapped at all. Au contraire. I feel alive now, wide awake, more than I have in

weeks.

“Why,” that voice of silk asks softly, “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You know why.” I sound too hoarse, and the words get lost in the deep silence that follows.

A hand reaches out and cups my face, runs its thumb along my chin, over my lips. Instinctively I

lean into it, and my eyelids flutter closed. Breathe.

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

I swallow. Oh hell. I have a pretty good idea of how many people would kill just to hear him say

these words.

“I might get that scholarship for Berlin.”

Ack. Where did that come from? I didn’t mean to say that at all! Smart move, dude. The atmosphere

changes immediately. With a smooth motion Danny pushes himself off of the wall and looks at me with

complete surprise. “For Berlin?”

I nod, frowning a little, still trying to figure out why I told him.

“Hell.”

Yeah, I second that.

“I didn’t know you wanted to get away from me so badly.” He’s grinning now, but there’s a trace of

a frown on his forehead when he sinks down on the bed.

“It’s got nothing to do with you.”

“You sure about that?”

“This might come as a shock, but my world doesn’t revolve around you, Danny.” My moving closer

and sitting down next to him might slightly dampen the effect of the words.

He just looks at me and smiles mysteriously. “You tell yourself that, Jimmy Boy.”

“I do. And I very much agree with me.”

“Then kindly inform yourself that you’re on my bed right now.”

“So what? We’re just talking.”

“We’re never just talking, James. You know that.”

How very true. It’s foreplay. Anything that happens between us is foreplay. Unless we’re already at

it, of course.

With a small sigh I let myself fall back onto his soft mattress and stare up at the ceiling. “You told

me to tell you what to do.”

“I did.”

“Anything at all?”

“Anything.” He lies down beside me and props his head up on his arm to look down at me. Oh boy.