Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113047 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113047 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Chapter 12
DANIEL LOOKS different. He was always kind of skinny, with a pointy chin and prominent wrist bones. But he looks healthier. Like he’s filled out, put on a little muscle, maybe. His clothes fit well, and his usually messy hair isn’t quite so all over the place, and longer than I’ve seen it. He’s wearing black jeans and a thin red sweater under his leather jacket. With his green eyes, it looks strangely Christmassy.
He gives me a nervous smile and shoves his fists in his pockets, ducking his head a little so his hair falls in his face.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.”
I open the door wider and he shuffles in, the toe of his boot catching on the doorjamb.
“Oof, sorry,” he mutters as he knocks into me. He takes a look around and gapes at me. “Um, whoa. Should I take my shoes off?”
“Sure.”
“Nice in here. Clean.” He yanks off his boots.
“Yeah, well.”
“Uh… so… how are you?” he says, shifting from one foot to the other just inside the door. His socks don’t match.
“Yeah, okay. You?”
He nods, smiling a little. “I’m good.”
We sit at opposite ends of the couch, Daniel scrunched into the corner and leaning against the arm like he wants to get as far away from me as possible. He plays with my couch cushion and looks everywhere but at me, like he’s hoping I’ll start talking. But he’s the one who wanted to come see me, so I’ll be damned if I’m going to figure it out.
“So, uh—I… um…,” he fumbles. His cheeks start to flush, and he gets that familiar pissy look. For the first time, though, I can see that he’s pissed at himself, for not finding the right words. Embarrassed, not scornful. And it makes me think of what Rafe said about armor. How Daniel kind of doesn’t have any. He thinks he does—hell, maybe strangers even think he does—but with me, with Brian and Sam, with Pop, he’s naked. He’s naked and vulnerable and so, so easy to hurt.
And I guess when it came down to hurting Daniel or hurting myself, I hurt Daniel every time.
“Um…,” he starts again, looking around wildly like someone might appear to bail him out.
Then, like she read his mind, Shelby comes sauntering into the living room, all mussed from sleep.
“You have a cat? Come here, kitty,” he coos. Shelby looks at him and sniffs delicately, then jumps up onto the back of the couch and butts her head against his fingers.
“Aw, you’re so cute.” He scratches between her ears, and she rubs her face all over him. Then she jumps into his lap and plops down there, letting him pet her.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I say.
“What?”
Daniel cups his hand around Shelby—around my cat—like he can protect her from me.
“My own cat hates me and loves you. That’s perfect.”
I push off the couch and go to the kitchen, putting water on to boil and grabbing Rafe’s tea from the cabinet out of habit.
Daniel leans in the doorway, arms crossed, frowning.
“Do you want some fucking tea?”
“Okay.”
I stare at the kettle as it boils. When I turn back to Daniel, he’s got his scared face on again and this time I can’t help it.
“Look, I’m not gonna hit you or anything, okay?”
“Uh, I didn’t think you were.”
“Well, then why are you fucking cringing over there like I’m about to beat the crap out of you?”
“I’m not cringing. I’m leaning. And it’s not like you haven’t beaten the crap out of me before.”
“Well. I mean. Okay, but we were kids. We were just messing around.”
Daniel narrows his eyes at me. I hand him a cup of tea and sit at the kitchen table. He hesitates, then sits across from me.
“Are you serious right now?” He sounds genuinely puzzled.
“Yeah.”
“You’re sitting here, drinking tea, and telling me that the times you beat the shit out of me—when I was, like, thirteen and weighed a hundred pounds, and you were nineteen and the size you are now—we were just kids messing around. That’s really what you’re going with?”
Daniel’s eyes are wide and there doesn’t seem to be a good answer to that.
“Okay, well what about when you found me and Buddy McKenzie in the alley outside the shop? That wasn’t just messing around.” He wraps his arms around himself like he’s giving himself a hug. At Buddy’s name, my ears start to buzz and I go clammy with sweat.
“That’s—that wasn’t—he—I was… just looking out for you.”
“Dude. No way.” He’s gaping at me, clutching his tea.
“Look, that was a long time ago, so, um….”
Daniel shakes his head like he can’t even think of what to say. Then he gets up and starts pacing.
“So, why does your cat hate you?” he finally says as Shelby wanders over to her food dish.
I shrug, and Daniel rolls his eyes and crouches down to pet Shelby.