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“Dull as dishwater,” Daniel said. “Boring as bread crusts.”
Milky Way followed us out into the yard, and Daniel watched her pee one last time before putting her back inside and calling a final goodbye to Bobby.
“Thanks for coming out today, Peter,” Daniel said as we climbed into Betty Blue. “I haven’t seen Bobby that interested in someone in a long time. He didn’t even ask for his pain meds.”
I strapped on my seat belt and tried to smooth my hair down. The reflection in the passenger-side window told me it was entirely out of hand. Daniel watched me and then reached over and tweaked a curl that hung down on my forehead.
“Hey!” I covered it with my palm, grinning at him.
“Boing.” He grinned back.
My skin tingled where his fingers had brushed against my forehead and heat rose up my neck. Daniel reached out and plucked another, whispering “boing” again as it bounced back. His eyes drifted down to my lips and lingered.
Just as my breath caught and hung, just as I thought he was going to lean forward and kiss me, he turned away to start the car. Disappointment clawed at my gut again, and I rubbed a hand over my face to wipe it away.
As Daniel pulled down Bobby’s drive, I studied him out of the corner of my eye. A smattering of stubble grew on his jaw where his razor had missed, and the tan skin where his neck met his T-shirt looked soft. I wondered what it would feel like to press a kiss there.
“Want to come back next week?” he asked, glancing at me. “I think he’d really like that.”
“Uh, well,” I cleared my throat and looked out the opposite window. Spending time with Daniel felt so good, I wanted to say yes. But if I did, it was only a matter of time before I gave in and made a move.
“You don’t have to.”
“I probably blew my wad of stories today.”
Not the best choice of words. My dick traitorously thickened and reminded me that I hadn’t blown my wad in about twelve hours now, and I had plenty of juice I could spend somewhere, probably with Daniel, if I didn’t have a (cheating, lying, selfish) boyfriend.
“What do you mean?”
“You know, in terms of keeping his interest. Nothing new is going to happen between now and next week for me.”
“He’s easy to entertain. Anything you talked to him about would mean a lot to him. He’s lonely. But I get it if you’re not up for it. You kept him happy for almost two hours, and I’m grateful for that. He’s a great guy, and he’s been through hell. Still has more hell to go through. Jeff isn’t the first of his friends to die. AIDS is wiping out his whole generation, or most of it. It’s terrible.”
My burgeoning erection faltered and faded. AIDS was definitely a boner-killer. Still, the last thing I needed to do was complicate the soap opera of my life by actually kissing Daniel or making a move on him. And yet, the words I spoke next weren’t “no way.”
“Okay. I’ll come back next week. What day?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Like you said, he’s lonely, and what do I have going on in my life that’s more important?”
“A job and friends and your photography and Tilt-a-Whirl and—”
“Nah. I’ll come.” I smiled at him and ignored the flash of guilt about doing yet another thing I wouldn’t tell Adam about. “I’d be happy to.”
Chapter Twelve
‡
Rome, July 19, 1991
Eater,
Leslie says she hasn’t seen you in forever. When I try to call, you don’t answer. I’ve left messages with your mom. Are you getting them? Have I done something to piss you off? What’s going on?
I miss the Sunsphere,
Adam
