LOVE ‘EM(91)
Dave and Charlotte don’t really like me to have boys over. But, it’s for school, so surely they’ll understand. “I’ll be home in fifteen.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
* * *
It takes two and a half hours, but I think Slade’s finally getting it. I hold my palm in the air; Slade looks at it as though I’ve lost my mind. I reach over and grab his forearm. “It’s called a high five. Works like this.”
He smiles and smacks my hand. “You’re weird.”
“Says the guy who won’t talk to the girl he’s liked since third grade.”
He shoots me a look. “Have not.”
I shake my head. “Whatever. All right. If we’re done, I’m going to hit the sack. I’ll see you in class Monday.”
“So, you still haven’t talked to her?”
I walk him to the door, flipping on the outside flood lights. “Sorry. It’s expensive to call Africa.”
His head almost touches the ceiling of the porch’s overhang. “Well, if you do talk to her, don’t tell her I ask about her. Okay?”
I shake my head. “Whatever. You know, if you like a girl, it’s okay to tell her. She’s not going to hate you for liking her. She’ll probably be flattered.”
He steps off the porch. I follow, but stop at the top step.
He turns back to me. “I just don’t think she’s going to be flattered that it’s me who likes her. That’s all.”
“Aw. You poor thing.” I grab his shoulders and give him a big hug. “You’re not a bad guy. I don’t care what anyone says.”
He squeezes my waist. “Thanks, Mo.”
* * *
I have a shower, comb my hair, and wrap in my fluffy robe. I head into the living room, but don’t even get settled on the sofa when a knock sounds at the door. I pick up the book Slade left behind.
“Took you long enough.” I open the door. Oh. “You’re not Slade. What’re you doing here?”
Danny pushes past me into the room. “Slade? No Shit? Was that who was here earlier?”
I shrug. “Yeah. Why? Were you watching me?”
“No. I just happened to look out while you had your arms around him. Is he why you won’t talk to me?”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s my study partner.”
“You must have some good grades as much as you study.”
I close the door. “My grades are fine—what’s your problem?”
CH. EIGHT
He reaches for me. Taking my face in his hands, his lips crash into mine. His tongue invades and conquers. When he raises his head, his heart beats so hard it thumps where it presses against my heaving chest.
He answers, “Nothing’s wrong now.”
My body craves his. So, I back out of his hold, busying myself in the kitchen, pouring a couple of iced teas. “No bandage over your cut?”
He looks at his stitched wrist. “Yeah, doc said three days for the bandage. The stitches come out on Monday.”
I hand him a tea glass and take a long sip of mine.
He gulps his entire drink at once, setting the cup on the counter as he moves around the island to my side. “So, you busy?”
“Now? I was getting ready to go to bed.”
He smiles. “I have perfect timing, don’t I?”
I rub the back of my neck. “You should probably head on home. I don’t want your parents to know we’re here alone. Really don’t think they’d like it.”
“Who gives a shit what they like?”
Propping my hands on my hips, I glare at him. “I do. You should, too. They’re your parents.”
“Well, I don’t care. And you shouldn’t either.”
“Why not? They provide a place for me to live, I respect them. Wouldn’t hurt for you to give that a try.”
“I respect people who deserve it. My mom? Maybe. Dad? Fuck no.”
I run my hand through my still damp hair. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you and your dad, Danny. But I don’t want to get caught in the middle of it, okay? It’s your family. If I had family, I’d hold on with everything I have. I don’t understand the way you are with them.”
“That’s only because you don’t know everything.”
I dump my ice and set my glass in the sink. “Well, I don’t need to know.”
I try to skirt past him, but he grabs my robe. “No. You don’t. Look, I didn’t come here to talk about my family.”
“Somehow I doubt you came to talk at all.”
“Maybe you’re right.” He laughs out loud and smiles like an eight-year-old with a new bike. “The other night was fucking incredible.”