He just stares at me, his gaze burning with a fury that’s both terrifying and thrilling. “You are something else, you know.”
“You should get a dog,” I say, trying to lighten the suffocating mood.
“A dog?”
“Yeah. Big fluffy one.”
He turns toward me again, eyes glinting. “Would you come over if I did?”
I stare at him.
He grins. “You could teach dance. You know, for a job.”
The words bother me more than he probably intended.
“I don’t dance anymore,” I say flatly and take another drag from the cigarette. “I just need a job. Something to pay the bills. Help my parents.” I glance at him. “Maybe I should go work at the Redline too.”
His head snaps toward me.
“The Redline?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“No?”
“No.”
“It’s not up to you.”
“You saw earlier. I’ve got ways of getting my point across.”
The memory of the light pole twisting like a wet noodle flashes in my mind.
“So,” I say, exhaling smoke, my voice a little too steady. “Magic, huh?”
He glances at me sideways. “Don’t sound so impressed.”
I stare at the sky, refusing to look at him. “I’m deciding if I should be impressed or deeply concerned.”
He snorts. “You should see what happens when I’m actually mad.”
“Ooo, scary.”
“I could turn you upside down and not let you down until you’re nice to me.”
“You don’t like nice.”
“Neither do you.”
I glance at him. “You know, we could be friends if you tried a little harder.”
“I’m a great friend.”
“You are not!”
