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“Nope.” Troy gave her a brilliant grin and headed toward the front door. “I’m just leaving. Justin’s on your side, by the way.”
“How’s
that?”
“Wanting me to sign up for Mil-wau-kee-dates.” He spat out each syllable with distaste.
“He’s a good friend.” She stepped closer to Justin; put her hand on his shoulder. It hit him with a combination of thrill and horror that it felt natural to be standing together in his house after a party, saying goodnight to their last guest. Where the hell did that come from?
“I’ll think about it.” Troy lifted his hand. “Justin, thanks for the good time.”
“We should do this after each chapter.”
“Deal. Good night.” He went out. The door shut after him.
So.
Here they were.
“That was really fun, Justin. I’m sorry I missed so much of the party.”
“How was yours?” He started picking up more dirty glasses and plates, needing to keep busy, feeling the thrill and horror again when she started helping as if she lived there, too.
“Dull for me but I think everyone else had a good time.”
“I’m glad.” He took the loaded tray into the kitchen, not surprised when she followed. “You want another drink?”
“Another hard lemonade would be great. I had a late start.
Hey, your kitchen looks like mine, too.”
“Yeah?” He fished a lemonade out of the refrigerator, poured himself a glass of water and started loading the dishwasher.
“I liked Troy a lot.” Candy leaned on the edge of his kitchen table. Justin had to remind himself she didn’t belong there.
Had to remind himself that this extraordinary sense of comfortable intimacy might be nothing more than a deliberate fabrication on her part. Another date or two and she could disappear, on to the next new client and sorry it hadn’t worked out. “He had some great stories about you.”
“We had some pretty wild times. College, you know, the stupid stuff you do…”
“No, actually. I was in bed by nine most nights.”
Justin turned to stare at her unblinking sincerity until she finally broke into giggles and he realized she’d been teasing.
In any other circumstance he’d love her sense of humor. But the way she’d so effortlessly convinced him she was dead serious made him even more uneasy. He went back to loading the machine, wondering if she planned to stay long.
“I was kidding. I had some wild times, too. It’s not really college if you haven’t been stupid at least once.”
“True.”
“But at that football game, did you and Troy really—”
“Yes.” He closed up the dishwasher and dried his hands.
“We did. Wearing only socks.”
“Not on your feet.”
“Not on our feet. Want to go sit down?” He didn’t know what else to do with her. He couldn’t ask her to leave.
Okay, he could. But…
Crap. He didn’t want to.
“Sure.” She followed him into the living room and disconcerted him by sitting next to him, kicking off her sandals and curling one leg under her, shaking back her hair, then resting her elbow on the back of the couch, gazing through her lenses as if he were a big piece of butter cake with chocolate frosting.
“Tell me about your childhood, Justin. What kind of kid were you in grade school?”
He swallowed. This was going to be a long night of sexual torture. “I was pretty average, kind of wild but no police record. Teenaged stuff.”
“Were your parents hard on you?”
“My parents divorced when I was eight.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Her forehead crinkled into concern; her eyes conveyed sympathetic warmth. “Was it nasty?”
He laughed shortly. “It wasn’t great. Dad had a younger 120
mistress, Mom found out. That wasn’t pretty. Though I didn’t understand the whole picture until much later.”
“Ugh. I can imagine.”
“It worked out in the long run. I lived with Mom after they split. She bought this funky little house in Solana Beach, in a neighborhood of surfers and artists. We probably got closer than we would have otherwise. She never married again, but she’s been with Marty for probably ten years now. Dad married Chloe right away and stayed in Rancho Santa Fe. Probably both my parents are doing better than if they’d stayed together. Mom hated the whole gated golf-community thing, and Dad would have been miserable living anywhere less prestigious.”
