Chapter Seven

 

Rory

 

“They put a pierced can of beer in his lunch bag! Do you hear me? What kind of monsters do that? I’ll tell you what kind… the same fucking kind I grew up with. The same fucking kind I trusted before my goddamn life was ruined.”

I spun and re-paced along the short length of my living room while Krew followed my movements from his spot on the couch, listening and not uttering a word. Samson was thrilled to see him and had taken up residence on the cushion at his side. I was livid. More than livid. I didn’t think I’d been so pissed off in a long time, and I couldn’t sit still. My nerves jumped and twitched with each memory—old and new.

“I know their system,” I continued, not letting Krew speak. “I lived it for years. First, it’s the small stuff. Name calling, talking behind your back, fucking up your locker, tripping you in the halls, but then, it escalates. These people always need something more, something bigger and better to make you feel smaller and them more empowered. They gang up on you. Always in pairs, so no matter how confident or strong you feel on a given day, you’re outnumbered. You are nothing, and they will be sure you know it. Do you know what that does to a person?”

The curving smile taking over Krew’s face brought me to a standstill, venom boiling my insides.

“Do you think this is a fucking joke?” I snapped. “He could have gotten fired had he gone to work and not had a meeting with me tonight. Fired! That’s gone beyond a few basic pranks. Trust me, I know the pattern. What’s next, huh?”

“Baby, you are all fired up. Look at you.”

“And you’re smiling like it’s nothing. What’s the matter with you? You should have seen him. He was rattled to his core. It upset him more than he let on. I could tell. So tell me, what does he go home to tonight? What’s next? And stop fucking smiling!”

Krew pushed himself up from the couch with his lips pinched tightly together and halted my attempt to wear out the carpet.

“Doll, I’m smiling because I’ve never seen you give such a shit about anyone before. Whoever this guy is, he knocked something loose in here.” Krew patted my chest over my heart and fluttered his eyes. “Am I right?”

Batting his hand away, I scowled. “No, you aren’t right. Give your head a shake. I can empathize. I understand what…” I shook my head, dislodging that train of thought. “So what if I give a shit. I give a shit about other people. Like you, although sometimes you irritate the fuck out of me. He’s nobody, but what’s happening to him is what gets under my skin. You know my past.”

“I do, love, and I can see this really bothers you.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I snapped. His acute perception burned deeper than I expected, bringing all those unidentifiable feelings I’d experienced in Adrian’s presence back to life.

Krew rolled his eyes and planted a firm hold on his cocked-out hip. He needed to be on stage for all the oozing drama he possessed. “My God, you make me crazy. Must I remind you how many times you texted me tonight, begging for me to come over after work? And, do you realize, I’ve been here for almost two hours listening to you rant and rave about the unfair, disgraceful treatment of your therapist’s roommates? Your therapist, Rory. Ther-a-pist! You call him Adrian. You’re on a first name basis already. Do you hear yourself?”

“Counselor not therapist.” Although, I wasn’t sure if there was a difference. I narrowed my eyes and continued pacing. “You read too deep into shit. I’m pissed because I spent all night being a dick to him before learning about his roommates. Cuz that’s what he needed, more assholes in his life. Here I was fucking chain smoking in the living room, and the guy goes and has an asthma attack. Then, every time he tries to pull information from me, I changed the fucking subject.” Speaking of smokes, I snagged my pack from the table and shook one out. Fitting it between my lips, I unearthed my lighter from my pocket and lit up. “He loves your cat, by the way, uses all those same dumb nicknames you use. All cooey-like too.”

Krew pinched his lips together in what seemed to be an effort to contain his smile again.

“What?”

“Oh, my God, you like him.”

Ignoring the way my stomach flipped over at the suggestion, I halted on the spot and pointed at the door. “Get the fuck out of my apartment. Now you’re just pissing me off.”

Krew just laughed and snagged my arm as I blew a cloud of smoke into the air. “I need fresh air, let’s go on the balcony for a bit.”

I wanted to push him away and tell him to forget it, but I didn’t actually want him to go. My mind was racing out of control, and I didn’t want to be alone. Disgruntled by his observations, I followed him outside, nudging Samson back in the door when he thought he was going to join us.

Once we were settled and I’d smoked through half a cigarette, Krew pressed for more information about my evening. “Tell me about your appointment. Why did you say you were a dick to him?”

“I told you.” I blew a wisp of smoke into the night as I lifted my feet and rested them on the railing. “I gave the guy an asthma attack and was purposefully avoiding any and all talk about my problems. It was a complete and utter mess. The guy was on edge the minute he came in the door.”

“Because you are intimidating as all hell, sweetheart.”

“Shut up. Anyhow, when I finally got him to relax, Samson sniffed out the beer on his bag, and everything was upside down again. I was his first gig as a counselor. When he was about to leave, he looked like he was going to quit his fucking job because of me. So… I yelled at him. Not one of my finer moments, I admit. Scared the shit out of him again. Before he could bolt, I made him promise to call and set up another appointment so we could try again. I didn’t want him to give up on my account.”

When Krew got that same dreamy look in his eyes he’d had earlier, I pointed at him with my smoke clasped between fingers. “Shut the fuck up.”

He gestured locking his lips with a key and throwing it away—again, dramatically Krew-like. Then, he tilted his head to the side and smiled. “Did you know he was asthmatic?”

“How the fuck would I know that?”

“Exactly. So, when you found out, did you keep smoking in front of him?”

I shrugged and took a drag, looking out across the river. “We came out here. I had a smoke out here, but he said it was okay. I asked him first. I wasn’t trying to be a dick, but hell, the whole appointment had me wound tight. I needed it.”

“How come you couldn’t talk to him about… this?” He waved a hand, indicating the night all around us.

“I don’t know him, ergo, I don’t trust him.”

“I think you hate looking weak, especially in front of strangers. Strangers you might be crushing on.” He garbled the last statement as though I wouldn’t hear him.

I scowled, but he continued before I could object to his observation. “Just start small. You don’t need to give him your whole history on the first day he’s here, but at least talk about what it’s like. Tell him how light makes you feel. Maybe give him an idea of what happens when you’re exposed.”

The pressure in my jaw intensified, and before I could crack teeth, I took a final draw on my smoke and butted it out in the tray. It hadn’t done a damn thing to calm my nerves.

“I tried. I told him a little bit, but…” I shook my head, unsure how to explain. “I don’t think this whole counseling thing is a good idea. I tried, and it didn’t work out. Maybe I’ll just tell him I can’t—”

“You just finished saying it was a cluster-fucked meeting. Therefore, it doesn’t count. Rory, you need to give this a fair shot, or you aren’t going to get better. Maybe…”

He trailed off. The look on his face told me he was about to suggest something I wouldn’t like.

“Spit it out. Quit hedging. I hate when you do that.”

“Maybe you can help him, too.” Krew adjusted himself lower in the lounge chair and wiggled his feet onto my lap. “You said he was new at this job, so be the perfect patient and give him some confidence. If his home life is as shitty as you think, then he will need a dose of goodness.” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “And maybe get to know him better.”

I stared, narrowing my eyes, ignoring all visceral reactions his suggestion caused. “I don’t want to know him better,” I lied.

Krew rolled his eyes and leaned his head back to look at the stars overhead. “Whatever. Do what you want.”

We sat in silence for a long time. I was thankful the conversation had died off because I was tired of trying to analyze my feelings and what they meant. When Krew’s feet on my lap began lazily stroking my abdomen, and his heel moved to rub against my crotch, I knew and understood the subtle hints of what he was suggesting without words. We didn’t song and dance each other.

I spread my legs a little and closed my eyes, letting him have more access to play while I focused on the budding sensations. My mind was a wreck, and I welcomed the distraction.

As my arousal slowly tingled to life, visions of a flush-cheeked, full-lipped Adrian flooded my mind. My fists clenched as I imagined the feel of his thick, unruly hair threaded between my fingers. The dark pools of his eyes peered up at me from behind glasses, lust burning deep behind his gaze. He was on his knees, his thumb taking the place of Krew’s heel as he massaged over my exposed length which hovered dangerously close to his perfect mouth, waiting to be taken.

My eyes flew open, and I batted Krew’s feet from my lap as my heart shot into my throat. What the ever-loving-fuck was that? I was out of my seat and leaning against the railing, tugging hands through my hair before Krew could express his shock.

“What the hell? What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing.” My lungs burned, and the stampeding horse assaulting my chest wouldn’t calm. I couldn’t tell Krew where my mind had gone because it was completely absurd. “Just… Nothing.”

He rose and leaned as well but watched me instead of the river. “Just offering a little de-stress, babe. Take your mind off tonight. Thought you looked like you needed it.”

It was exactly what I needed, but for the first time since we’d started our whole friends with benefits thing, I was almost too shaken to proceed.

Krew turned me, so my back was to the rail and studied my face with a calmness I envied. I thanked God that his mind-reading skills were non-existent. “Want me to blow you?”

“You don’t prefer that.”

He shrugged like it was nothing. “I don’t mind. I just like you pounding my ass more is all.” He palmed the front of my pants where I was semi-aroused, rubbing with enough conviction to bring me to full mast. It felt good, and I’d be damned if I was going to turn down a blow job.

I nodded for him to proceed as he unbuttoned my pants and dropped to his knees. When he was below me, and I peered down into his eyes while he gave me a few preliminary strokes, all I could see was Adrian again. Heat coursed over my skin, and my balls ached like never before. However, before he could wrap his mouth around me, I shoved him back.

“Don’t… I changed my mind.”

Ignoring the steady throb in my dick, unsure how to explain, I tucked myself back in my pants and fled into the apartment, beelining it to the kitchen to search out a beer. What the fuck was wrong with me? Since when did I have second thoughts over Krew sucking my dick?

What didn’t help was the knowing look on his face when he joined me inside. He scooped up Samson and thankfully didn’t draw attention to my obvious agitation.

“Want a beer?”

“Sure.”

I found him a drink, and we settled side by side on the couch, the silence from before returning thicker and heavier with my unspoken confliction hovering in the air. Twenty minutes into our brooding, my phone rang and startled us both.

Frowning, I grabbed it from the coffee table and stared at the screen. “It’s him,” I whispered. “It’s the counseling center.”

Krew rested a hand on my back and rubbed up and down my spine. “Answer it.”

Trembling on the inside—for reasons I couldn’t quite understand—I connected the call.

“Hello?” My voice sounded thick and rough to my own ears. I swallowed a few times, hoping it went unnoticed.

“Hi, Mr. Gallagher, it’s Adrian Anderson calling. I was hoping we could set up a time to meet again.”

The musical ring of his voice went straight to my dick, and I pinched my eyes closed in an effort to order my thoughts. All that did was bring visions of my brief daydream back to the forefront of my mind with intense clarity.

I cleared my throat and pushed a response to the surface. “Yeah, umm… I don’t know…” As I convinced myself to simply tell him to forget it, Krew piped up beside me.

“Make the appointment, sugar, you know you need it.”

I ground my teeth and bit back a retort.

“I’m free whenever,” I managed to mumble, hating the harsh way I’d delivered the statement. The kid was so nervous, I could almost see him recoil through the phone. “You pick.”

“How about Thursday? Same time?”

“Sounds good.”

Once we’d settled on an appointment, I didn’t waste breath on goodbyes and hung up a little too fast. If Krew noticed my rattled nerves, he stayed quiet.

Leaving his empty beer bottle on the coffee table, Krew pushed off the couch and stretched his long, thin body. “Well, girlfriend, I’m gonna head out. As much as I hate my brother’s spare room, I hate your couch more.”

“When are you back in your apartment? Any word?” It was my nonchalant way of asking when I’d be done babysitting his ball of fur.

He sighed and pouted. “Landlord is dragging his damn feet. I haven’t heard, but I won’t be surprised if it’s another week yet.”

I groaned internally. As much as I was getting used to Samson invading my personal space, I looked forward to regaining full possession of my bed at night. I hated sharing my sleeping quarters with anyone—especially a cat.

 

* * *

 

Thursday came too quickly.

The minute the sun went down, I opened all my curtains and windows, airing out the apartment, so it didn’t carry the lingering scent of cigarettes. I told myself I’d done it because it was too stuffy inside, but the truth was, I couldn’t shake the image of Adrian in a state of panic because he was struggling to breathe.

Although, I wasn’t sure I could make an hour without being hit by a craving and needing to smoke, but I was determined to try. If worse came to worse, I’d excuse myself and head out on the balcony for a break.

Since waking at six that evening, I’d tried to preoccupy myself with work, but my mind continually drifted to my appointment. I didn’t want to admit the fluttering nerves invading my belly at the prospect of seeing Adrian again, but they were there. An underlying sense of protectiveness I couldn’t explain was desperate to ensure he was okay after the episode with the beer on Monday night. It wasn’t exactly a subject I wanted to broach with him, especially since I knew it carried hurt feelings, so I hoped I could get answers by simply studying his demeanor.

It was eleven on the dot when a knock came to my door. Samson bounded from the bedroom as though he knew who it was and proceeded to rub his scent across the bottom of the door, back and forth as he waited for me to open it. As an afterthought, I flicked on the low light beside the couch so he wouldn’t feel so engulfed by my dark world. Krew hated it, so I had to assume Adrian might be more comforted with some element of light, too.

With a flood of adrenaline racing through my veins, I let Adrian in. There was a long pause when he crossed the threshold, both of us sensing the tension in the room. The return of our shared awkwardness left me entirely too aware of my unexplainable feelings. I was certain they were obvious, especially when he went to extreme lengths to avoid eye contact.

It was the first time in weeks I’d been grateful for the stupid cat. Adrian zeroed in on the fur-ball who was in the process of weaving between his legs, and he squatted down to smother Samson in excessive attention. Adrian’s discomfort evaporated, and a genuine, heart-warming smile broke out across his face. It made my stomach feel weird and fluttery—which I passed off as indigestion since I refused to call it what it was.

“Hello, Samson. You’re still here. It’s so good to see you again.”

When I thought he’d simply get his fill of petting the cat and move on, I was wrong. Adrian picked Samson up and tucked him against his side as he cooed, and they rubbed noses.

“Where would you like to have our meeting, Mr. Gallagher?” he asked, peering from behind the cat.

“Rory,” I said, wishing the minute I’d corrected him that I could take it back. “Umm… the living room is fine. If I need a smoke, maybe we can take a break, and I can step outside.”

His cheeks took on a hint of color, and he turned his gaze back to Samson. “I hate to make you do that in your own home.”

“It’s nothing.”

Adrian planted himself on the chair while I sunk onto the couch. He let Samson down, but the cat didn’t go far. Instead, he climbed up the arm of the chair and lay across the back behind Adrian’s head. Because he didn’t seem to mind, I didn’t say anything. They’d taken a liking to each other and seemed to be most comfortable when they were close.

As Adrian searched up his folder and whatnot from his bag, I studied him. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him how things were with his shitty roommates, but I’d already told myself not to go there. He had heavy bags under his eyes, and I couldn’t remember if they were like that on Monday. His lips seemed rosier against his skin, too, so I wondered if that was all it was—a paler complexion than before. Or was the room more shadowed and playing tricks with my eyes?

No, his lips were definitely darker.

Realizing too late that I was in a trance, staring at his mouth, I snapped my attention away and hoped I hadn’t been too obvious. I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me, but it had to stop.

“So,” Adrian began, “We’ll start fresh today and hopefully have more luck than last time. I won’t re-ask the questions I have answers to, so maybe we can jump right in. If something makes you uncomfortable, let me know.” Adrian wet his lips and waited expectantly for a reply.

Don’t stare at his mouth.

Unable to manage more than a nod, I cracked my knuckles as I fought off the urge to smoke already. Any discussion about myself wasn’t going to be comfortable. Period.

“Last time I was here, you shared that you haven’t been outdoors during daylight hours in six years. That’s a long time. It made me think about how you must go about living your life with those kinds of obstacles. Can you tell me the kinds of things you’ve needed to change in order to adapt to your more…” he paused, his gaze flitting back and forth as though unsure what term might be appropriate.

“Unusual lifestyle?” I filled in. He was going easy on me. I could tell.

Instant flames rose to his cheeks, and he ducked his head. “Yes.”

His inner drive to be put together and professional that time around was only surface deep. With no more than a small nudge, his nervous state returned. However, as much as I enjoyed his moments of floundering uncertainty and the light blush his cheeks so easily acquired under duress, I pulled back the urge to push him too far.

So, he wanted to know how I lived in my fucked-up world. Baby steps. Maybe I could do this.

“Obviously my entire inner clock has taken a one-eighty. I’m up all night and sleep all day. In the beginning, it was just sunlight I couldn’t handle, but as you can see…” I waved a hand around, indicating the shadowed room where we sat. “That’s no longer the case.”

“What changed?” Adrian’s brows drew together as he listened attentively.

I couldn’t help feeling like a spectacle. In a deep down, disturbing way, it was almost the same as when I’d been stared at in my childhood by the bullies in school who were preparing their next attack. It rose my defenses, and I curled my nose as I scanned the apartment, avoiding Adrian’s eyes.

“Krew.”

Was that true? Would I have ended up worse regardless? Light, in general, had never been comfortable after the incident. Was it possible that I’d have slipped further under without Krew there to facilitate?

As I pondered that line of thinking, Adrian nudged me on. “Can you explain?”

“I met Krew two years ago at Bottoms Up. He works there. I don’t like being stuck at home, and there isn’t a whole lot to do at night for socialization. Bars, in general, have low lighting, and even though I wasn’t incapable of venturing into lit rooms at the time, it was never comfortable. When Krew and I became friends, and he learned of my… issues… he did what good friends do. He helped me. When he learned that lighting in the stores bothered me, he offered to run in if I needed smokes or groceries or whatnot. The less I did those things for myself, the worse it became when I had to. I got accustomed to complete darkness, and any bright light started affecting me in the same way sunlight did.

“Now, I get my groceries delivered, handle banking mostly online—since the all-night machines are generally in brightly lit rooms—and whatever I can’t handle, Krew takes care of.”

I met Adrian’s gaze, daring him to find humor in my handicaps. His nerves wouldn’t allow him to maintain eye contact, and he dropped his head, focused on taking notes on his pad of paper.

“Do you work?”

“Self-employed. I do web design.”

More note-taking. Adrian adjusted himself on the cushioned chair and pushed his glasses up his nose. He was the image of what would have been considered a nerd in high school. Between his pressed Khakis, his white button up, and checkered sweater vest, I couldn’t help but smile. Somehow, I knew it was his usual style, too, and not simply what he wore to look professional while on the job.

Maybe I hadn’t been part of the nerd crowd in high school, but my own differences made it so I didn’t fit in any better. With the small bit I’d learned about Adrian, somehow, I knew we’d shared the same fate in school. What I desperately needed to know was if he was still stuck in that hell or had found his escape.

Based on our previous meeting, I feared the worst.

My insides itched for the need to smoke. There was too much focus on my problems, and I hated it.

“Umm… Would you feel comfortable sharing the reactions you have to light? Or how exactly it makes you feel when you are faced with a situation where you are submerged in light. I understand if this is something you aren’t ready for.”

Cracking my knuckles, I tried to ignore the subtle rise in the hairs on my arms. It was accompanied by tightness in my joints and muscles which I fought off, squirming and seeking a more comfortable position so I wouldn’t feel it so readily. Even though I knew from experience, it wasn’t something I could shake off.

Eyeing my smokes in the center of the table, I jumped from the couch and snapped them up. “Do you mind if I step out for a few?”

Sitting, Adrian needed to raise his eyes to meet my gaze. His dark irises, whose color I could only guess were deep brown, lingered on my face. Lips slightly parted, his tongue glided their surface, wetting them before he nodded, increasingly unsure of himself. The action and our positions threw me directly into my fantasy from before, and I cursed the heat that bloomed over my skin in response to his shy expression.

Shoving it all away, I spun and exited onto the balcony, closing the door behind me. The night air wasn’t nearly cold enough to douse my inner flames. I was hot all over and chose to lean on the railing instead of sitting. Once again, I’d avoided the more invasive questions and fled to safety, successfully driving a wedge into our meeting.

Halfway through my smoke, the sound of the sliding door being shoved open drifted to my ears along with a meek voice which asked, “Do you mind if I join you?”

Without turning, I shrugged and squinted at a flashing light farther out on the river which was likely a boat. “Suit yourself. Don’t go causing yourself a problem on my account.”

“I’ll be okay.”

The creak of the lounger told me he’d sat. After, silence filled the void between us. I stayed focused on the boat in the distance as I drew again and again on my smoke, inhaling sanity, and fighting off images of our last meeting and the unexplained fantasies my mind wouldn’t release. I still couldn’t find the courage to voice anything, but the empty space in our conversation grew and needed filled.

“Why psychology?” I asked.

When he didn’t answer, I turned and leaned backward on the railing, quirking a brow to punctuate my question.

He smoothed a hand over his pants and smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes and was edged with a pain that I suspected went bone deep.

“I’m fascinated with the human mind. It amazes me in a way I’m not sure I can explain. The more I learn, the more I want to know.” He chuckled and met my gaze. “I love rooting around and seeing how it all works, you know? My father is a neurosurgeon. So, he literally cuts open the human brain and gets to the nitty-gritty of it all. I prefer studying it on a more sanitary level. One that won’t make me lose my stomach… much to his disappointment.”

The way his nose curled at the mention of his father’s work made me believe he wasn’t one for blood or gore.

“So, the whole doctor thing runs in your family?”

He nodded but didn’t elaborate. I wondered what his mother did for a living. Was she a doctor too? Did he have siblings? If so, were they all on the same paths? He obviously didn’t live at home if he had roommates.

“So, you stay on campus?”

I told myself I was making friendly chit-chat, but the truth was, I was digging, too curious about his living situation to let it rest.

I hit the nail on the head with my suspicions. There was a subtle stiffening of his back and pull of gravity that made his lips curve into a frown. “For now.”

Again, he didn’t elaborate, but I bit back the urge to ask more. My cigarette was finished, and the expectation was probably to resume our focus on me.

“Do you want to go back inside?” I asked.

“We can sit out here. It’s nice. I like the view.”

I settled on the lounger across from him and propped my feet on the railing. I recalled the night Krew and I had sat out here when I’d turned down his advances because of having Adrian on the brain. Sneaking a look at the man across from me, I wondered what it was I was so drawn to. While I studied his profile, he watched the water.

“Do streetlights and car headlights bother you the same? You said you go out at night.”

“Sometimes. It depends on the day. Right now, I’m ok, but if I were to go out, I’d always have my shades on me, in case I had a problem. On bad days, I wear them all the time. Even inside my house where I keep it dark. It’s just…”

“Safer?”

Our eyes connected, and I nodded, hating his penetrating, knowing gaze. He saw my weakness. Somehow, I knew Adrian could see past my carefully constructed walls to the darkness I carried within. The one I didn’t like, and the one that was the most disconcerting.

A long pause ensued.

We’d grown good at gaping holes of silence in our conversations. Tiny mouthfuls of sharing followed by vast, cosmic expanses of nothingness. Each consecutive void grew denser and more uncomfortable. Adrian must have felt it too because we both sought to break the tension at the exact same moment, both spewing questions at one another.

“What happens if you are exposed to light?” he asked.

“How are things with your roommates?” I sputtered over top of his words.

We shared a laugh and simultaneously ducked our heads, breaking eye contact. Whether it was him or me, we didn’t seem cut out for this counselor/counselee bullshit. A weird bubbling sensation fizzled through my body. Again. It was becoming harder and harder not to analyze or look it directly in the face, knowing it for what it was.

“How about we try something different.” Adrian broke through my thoughts, and I lifted my head. “You don’t seem to be fully comfortable sharing with me just yet, and that’s perfectly okay. So how about we try a little ‘getting to know you’ exercise. We did this in one of my courses last year. Perhaps if our titles—counselor/patient—weren’t so stringent, and our boundaries loosened a little, you’d be more comfortable talking. We could build a connection.”

He was killing me. Not only did I sorely want to loosen our boundaries, but I seriously didn’t at the same time.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll ask you a question—something simple to begin with—and you answer. After, it’s your turn to ask me. We get three passes, so if something comes up we aren’t ready or willing to talk about, we can choose not to share today.”

He closed his notebook and set it on the ground beside his chair. “And no note-taking. This will be just an informal session until we are ready to work on the real reason you called the center.”

I studied him. His excessively poised posture, his forced confidence, and the minor tremble noticeable only in his hands where they were folded together in his lap. Did the poor guy think he was failing again? Was that why he was floundering through textbook scenarios to see if he could find something that would work? Fuck, I needed to get this right. I didn’t want to be the reason he walked away defeated.

“Can I go first?” I asked.

“Sure.”

I tapped my pack of smokes against my knee, shoving away the urge to pull out another. I could do this. It wouldn’t be that bad. I re-worked my previous question into something a little less invasive, in case I pushed him to an immediate pass.

“Okay. How many roommates do you have?”

A twitch in his cheek drew my attention. The brightness in his eyes dulled, and I knew right away all my theories were correct. And fuck if that didn’t make me even more pissed off.

“Three,” he said, adjusting his glasses and shifting his attention to the water again.

There was no explanation or embellishment, but I guess he answered my question. “Your turn.”

“Did you go to college?”

Fuck! The guy was as smart as he looked.