One Friday afternoon, I stood in Danny’s living room next to my suitcase, watching Danny and Christina return at last. I’d been starting to think I couldn’t take their absence any longer, especially Danny’s. It was so good to have them around again. I was determined not to leave the apartment before Sunday evening at the very earliest.

Danny cleared out part of his closet to make room for my stuff, and they gave me my own shelf in the bathroom. I’d brought along a little dog bed and set it up in Danny’s room. They gave me complete freedom as far as settling in went—if I’d brought along three zebras, five emus, and two starving Namibian children, they’d probably have been okay with it.

Christina looked amazing, as I was forced to acknowledge to my great envy. She was slender now, not skinny. Her hair gleamed, and her eyes sparkled. She really was exceptionally pretty—she and Danny would have made a gorgeous couple.

“It worked! I feel great!” She beamed at me. “And I’m going to start working at the fitness center three times a week, at the juice bar.”

“That’s great, Tina. Really!”

“Danny will have to drop me off and pick me up, since there’s no bus out that way. But it’s just temporary, until I can find something full-time. I’ve sent out a million applications over the last few weeks. I’m sure one of them will work out.”

“Tina,” Danny said. “If you want to take driving lessons, I’ll pay for them. And then we can share my car, or I’ll get you one.”

“No way! No to both. I want to save up for them myself!”

Danny sighed. “That’s ridiculous. It’s not a problem for me.”

I watched with interest. So that was how it worked. Christina didn’t mooch off Danny and beg him to buy her stuff—he practically forced it on her. I made a mental note so that I could give it some more thought later.

We ordered an extra-large pizza and spent the evening on the couch. Like Danny, Christina didn’t eat meat, so we got a vegetarian pizza. I decided I would try and convert as well.

We really were a strange little group. Danny sat stretched out on the couch, while I lay beside him, against his strong arm, and Christina lay with her head on his stomach. We stuffed ourselves with pizza like it was going out of style, washing it down with countless soft drinks. Normally, Danny was very nutrition-conscious, but every once in a while, he really ran wild. We watched two comedies in a row and nearly fell off the couch laughing multiple times.

Around midnight, we decided it was time for bed, and all three of us went into the bathroom together. By that point, it didn’t even surprise me to see Christina change clothes in front of Danny. As she brushed her teeth in a T-shirt and panties, the circular motions of her arm made her breasts swing cheerfully from side to side. Danny stood at the second sink, wearing boxers and a gray-and-white Armani tee.

Our eyes met in the mirror. Blue, green, and brown. I watched Danny as I picked up my own toothbrush. If he ever looked at Christina’s chest, he did it so stealthily that I never caught him.

When I was finished brushing my teeth, I went into Danny’s room to change. I had my limits.

The bedsheets were reversible satin: blue on one side, gray on the other. The material was pleasantly cool to the touch, and the sheets smelled freshly washed.

Danny came into the room and shut the door behind him. Leika was already curled up peacefully in her tiny bed. She’d been so happy to see Danny and Christina again that she’d actually rolled over so they could rub her belly.

“Mind if I leave the window open?” Danny asked. “I always sleep with it open.”

“Sure. As long as you close it in the winter.”

He smiled apologetically. “Only when it’s below zero out.”

Well, great. Christina and Danny were both pretty claustrophobic—in all the time I’d known them, neither one had closed the blinds on a single window or ridden in even one elevator. So this was going to get interesting.

“Which side is yours?” I asked.

“Doesn’t matter. No rules on that.”

“Well, which side does Christina sleep on when she sneaks in here at night?” I asked, trying to provoke him.

He gave me a challenging look. “She sleeps wherever I am.”

Spontaneously, I chose the right side, leaving Danny the side closest to the door. He switched the overhead light off and climbed into bed, propping his head on his hand. The dim lamp on the nightstand was still on, giving me enough light to see him. His eyes were as unnaturally blue as ever.

“Now I finally know for sure,” I said with satisfaction. “No contacts.” He would have taken them out to sleep, right?

“Huh?” He looked confused.

“Your eyes,” I explained. “They’re so unusual. I thought maybe you wore colored contacts.”

“No, they’re really like that.” He chuckled. “You mean you’ve been wondering whether this is my natural eye color since last year?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, a little sheepishly.

“Ducky.” He gave me an admonishing look. “You could have just asked.”

I felt myself turn red and mumbled something about being “too embarrassed.”

“Anything you want to know, ask. You can ask me anything.”

I nodded, and he rolled over to switch off the lamp, but then stopped and turned back to face me. “You probably ought to know that this”—he pointed back and forth between us—“is new territory for me.”

“What?” I asked. “You’ve never been in bed with a girl before?” He couldn’t be serious!

“Sure, I have. Just not to sleep.”

“You always kicked them out right afterward or something?”

He gave me a bashful grin. “Something like that, yeah.”

I rolled my eyes. That sounded exactly like something he would do. “You’re impossible.”

“I usually didn’t have to throw them out of bed, because we never made it that far—I mean, they were just casual hookups, and…” He broke off. “All I meant to say was, I don’t know if I’ll sleep tonight. I’ve never slept next to anyone but Christina.”

We don’t necessarily have to sleep, my inner voice piped up.

Well, Danny had just said that if there was anything I wanted to know, I should just ask…

“What am I doing wrong that all the others did right?”

“What? Why would you be doing anything wrong?” Danny was taken aback—apparently, he genuinely didn’t understand the question.

“I mean…” I struggled for words, blushing again. “Apparently you…let all those others…be with you.”

Now he understood, and he smiled. “‘All those others,’ as you put it, are a total of three people. And no, I didn’t let them ‘be with’ me. Not even a little bit. They let me be with them. There’s a big difference.”

“But, Danny…” I tried to think of a better way of putting it but then decided it didn’t matter. “I would let you be with me, too.”

He snorted. Whether in amusement or in annoyance, I didn’t know. After a while, he said, “Let me put it like this… What happened between me and the others was… How do I explain it? Emotionless. No, worse than that. Brusque, almost. Totally cold. It had nothing to do with real intimacy and romance.”

Brusque and emotionless is better than not at all, I thought sullenly, but didn’t say it aloud. “So you didn’t love them?” I asked instead.

He was quiet for a moment. “I cared for the first two. A little. Not the way I love you. But neither relationship lasted long. Maybe a couple of months each.”

I wanted to ask him why they hadn’t worked out, but he beat me with his own question. “And you? What about you?”

“Just Alexander,” I said. “I think I loved him. Or at least I thought so at the time.”

Danny nodded briefly and then lapsed into a thoughtful silence. “I really do love you, Ducky,” he said after a few moments.

“I love you too.”

He turned away again to switch off the light.

“Danny?” I asked, before he could.

“Hm?”

“Why did you lie to me about your parents?”

He sighed and his shoulders drooped. He was still a moment before turning to look at me. “I’m sorry. The lie was so much easier than the truth.”

“So there was no car accident?”

“No. They’re both still alive.”

I sat up as well and touched the scar on his left cheek. He’d told me his father had hit him with a bottle. “Was this a lie, too?”

“No. That really happened. It wasn’t an accident, though. My father hit me in the face with that bottle on purpose. The ‘accident’ was just the version we told the hospital when I went in and got twelve stitches.”

My heart twisted. “Why did he do that?”

“We got into a huge fight that evening. He was totally hammered, and I knew I ought to shut my mouth, but I couldn’t help myself. Eventually, he got worked up into such a rage that he threw the bottle he was drinking out of right at me.”

An icy shudder ran down my back as I imagined what his childhood home must have been like. How much would you have to hate someone else to hit them in the face with a glass bottle? Let alone your own child…

“How old were you?” I asked gently.

“Thirteen.”

“And even now you’re using the version you told the hospital,” I said, shocked. “For outsiders. Like I was, back then.”

Danny smiled humorlessly. “Always gotta keep up appearances. Very important. I learned that very early on in life.”

“Is there anything else I should know?” It was obvious he kept some things secret from me. To protect himself, Christina had said. But I was starting to realize he mainly did it to protect me.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “There is something else. And I’ll tell you, but not today.”

“Why not?”

“I need to figure out how to put it,” he explained. “I can’t just blurt it out without thinking. Anyway, I’ve really dumped plenty on you for one night.”

“Just tell me,” I insisted.

He switched off the light and stretched out, tucking the covers up over his shoulders. “Good night, Ducky.”

“Good night,” I mumbled, but I let a few minutes go by before I lay down again—and scooted in close to Danny. I’d been completely throwing myself at him this whole night, so a little more probably didn’t matter. Stealthily, with almost imperceptible slowness, I slid my hand underneath his side of the blanket.

It was like he’d been waiting for me to do just that. He immediately grabbed my hand, lacing his fingers with mine, and firmly pulled our hands down onto the mattress. I could tell he wasn’t going to let go until morning.

 

***

 

My mother’s and grandpa’s birthdays were that weekend, and Danny and I spent the whole Saturday with my family at my grandparents’ house. I’d been afraid that all the unfamiliar faces and commotion would be too much for him, but as it turned out, I’d misjudged him yet again.

Not only did they not bother him, he actually seemed to enjoy it. My relatives all liked him, and he spent hours listening to the old folks’ stories, making me wonder again and again how he managed to be so patient. I could tell how much he loved the kids, and the appreciation was clearly mutual. They were constantly bringing their toys over to him, dragging him out into the yard, and climbing all over him. Suddenly, I could imagine him making a great dad.

When we finally returned to his place that evening, my head was buzzing and I was more than ready for some peace and quiet, but Danny was in a great mood—he’d probably have gone back every weekend if I’d asked him to. And that’s when I made the painful realization.

That’s how badly he wished he had a good, close family. I didn’t know what the story was with his mom, since she was apparently still living, but they didn’t appear to be in contact. And he’d never mentioned any siblings. I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that he was all alone here in Germany. The next chance I got, I decided, I would ask him about his mother and insist that he introduce me to her.

 

It wasn’t long before we found a bedtime ritual that seemed to agree with Danny. When we went to bed , we usually chatted for a little while, and then I would turn onto my side, and he’d cuddle close to me, the big spoon to my little spoon. Then he’d curl his arm around my hip, lacing his fingers with mine. That way, he had total control and didn’t have to worry about me touching him anywhere I wasn’t supposed to.

I don’t know if he slept at all during those first few weekends I slept over. If so, it couldn’t have been very deeply, because I always woke up in exactly the same position I’d fallen asleep in.

And he never let me go for even a moment.