Tommy is turning out to be an interesting puzzle. I’ve never liked puzzles.
His defense of Kira last night, coupled with the way he softens for her like ice melting in the sun, makes me think his affection for her might truly be genuine. And if so, then perhaps he’s not a bad choice for her, after all. He’s willing to defend her honor, that much is obvious judging by how he put that drunk idiot on the ground for insulting her.
The memory of what else happened in the library last night floods my mind, like it was waiting for the chance to break past my mental walls.
The way he fidgeted and squirmed but still sat there, silent and waiting for my permission to leave.
He’d been on edge, uncomfortable, and by the end of it he was starting to sweat. But he’d sat there for so long, just letting me stare at him. He endured it, because I wanted him to.
I don’t know why I find that so… so…
Sowhat, exactly?
I’m not sure. But I’ve been replaying the moment in my mind all night and into the morning, and I can’t pretend that it didn’t affect me somehow.
I think I liked it.
Why? I don’t know.
But I think… Yes, alright, IknowI liked it. And that’s unusual for me.
So maybe going to him on the archery field had been something of a test–partially for him, partially for myself. Taking the chance to guide him, to instruct him, was an opportunity to see if what I was feeling–whatever nameless emotion is storming inside me–was just a fluke.
And now I’m sitting at my desk and staring at my hand. It twitches under my regard, the palm tingling. I’d rested it flat against his chest when I corrected his stance, and he didn’t pull away.
For a second, I thought there was heat between us. I felt it. I felt him. I’d have bet any amount of money that he’d been as affected as I was. But when I’d pulled away, he’d been cold, distant, and that laugh was tormented and wrong. Something else was bothering him. Another layer to his mystery, another piece to his incomplete puzzle.
“Let it go,” I tell myself sternly. Tommy is a straight boy dating my niece, I shouldn’t have any fleeting feelings of heat with him, I shouldn’t be wondering–hoping?--if he feels it, too.
I curl my fingers into a fist and press it to the desk. Why can I still feel his skin under my fingertips? Why can I imagine him sitting in my office right now, squirming in a chair, letting me watch him while I worked? The way he stubbornly tried not to look at me–as if ignoring me would make it all go away–even though he let me look all I wanted… Fuck. What’s wrong with me?
There’s something about the way he reacts. How quickly he turns soft for Kira, then stiffens and bristles with everyone else, and–for some reason–the way he seems to defer to me while making it seem like he isn’t really deferring at all. He listens even when he’s being sarcastic and trying to appear unthreatening.
There is something there. I just don’t know what yet.
Chapter 6
Tommy
I think I might be in a dream.
I’m laying on a reclining lawn chair next to Kira, our hands gently intertwined, inhaling some bonfire scent with every pass of the chilly nighttime breeze. Barely audible under the sound of chatting and music playing from hidden speakers is the lapping of water from the nearby lake, along with splashing and screeching giggles as some people decide now would be a good time for a late-night swim.
The darkness of the sky is hollow and vast, all the stars drowned out by the twinkling fairy lights strung up around the lawn, circling the chairs and the open bar and the controlled, tame bonfire at the center of it all. I’ve been to a few bonfires before, but this one is different for a lot of reasons, the first one being that rich people don’t burn pallets and wood crates, apparently. Just real fire wood, stuff that smells like trees, not like chemicals.
If this is a dream, it’s not half bad. I’ve had better, but I’ve definitely had worse. I could do without Brian and his two bros glaring at me from the tiki bar, looking at me with an unpleasant expression as they whisper and gossip over their drinks. Janessa’s flitting like a humming bird in my peripherals, joining his group and then flying away again, in and out of his orbit. I think she wants to hide how deeply unhappy she is with him from the rest of the group, but every time she’s near him, he tries to pick a fight with her, leaving her swinging back and forth like a pendulum.
In a way, she’s a lot like Kira. Bringing me here was a ruse meant to make her life easier, to change the way the other guests perceived her. Janessa’s been doing the same exact thing, but with Brian.
“Are you going to swim?” Kira asks me sweetly, shivering and pushing a little closer to me for warmth.
“Are you?”
“I can’t,” she informs me. “I never learned.”
I look around to make sure no one’s too close, then whisper conspiratorially in her ear. “Don’t all rich people have pools?”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “I didn’t. I was more into archery and horseback riding.”
