Page 12 of Getting It Twisted
“Nah, man. Nothing like that.” He grins, wide and bright. “Unless you’rerealstrapped for cash.”
I fight to keep in a snort of laughter, and a cough comes out instead. “Well, I’m not. So I don’t need you.”
“Is that so, Daniel? You don’t need me?” Eyebrows raised, he takes a step forward and gives me a slow once-over, gaze sliding up and down my body. “Admit it—you want me. You want me back.”
Wait, what does he mean by that?You want me back . . .Does he mean as a friend, or . . .
Before I have time to recoil, he reaches out a hand and squeezes my bicep. “These are new.” He proceeds to ruffle my shortly cut hair. “This too.”
I push his hand off. “It’s been five years. You thought I wouldn’t have changed?”
“No.” A shadow passes over his face as he adds, “I’ve changed too.”
“And how exactly have you changed?”
In many ways, he seems the same as he’s always been. His gaze is just as piercing. His smell is the same, as is his small, straight nose and his delicate, pretty-boy features. How can a person so beautiful be such an asshole? But now that he mentions it, somethingisdifferent. There are dark circles under his eyes I do not recall. His eyes are more guarded, his mouth more downturned. And of course . . .
“Yourhair is different too.”
He grins and pushes a hand through his sweeping black curls. “Got sick of the dye jobs. Hey,” he adds, jerking his head in the vague direction of my house, “I’m coming over later. That all right?”
My thoughts screech to a halt. “What? No. It’snotall right.”
“Why? You need some excitement in your li—”
“Shut up.” Here he goes again, thinking he knows so much about me and my life—what I think, how I feel. I guess some shit never changes. Another piece of the puzzle clicks into place: how fucking annoying he used to be.
“No wonder you’re feeling bad, babe, you were pretty drunk last night. Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of that gloomy mood.” His hand reaches out for me again, but I shove it away and grab a fistful of his shirt. Reversing our positions, I slam him into the wall.
“Don’t. Stay the fuck away from me.”
I stand at least four inches taller than his five foot nine, and my bulkier build holds a significant advantage over his small-boned, leanly muscled frame. I could seriously hurt him if I wanted to. Smash his pretty-boy face in until he’s not so pretty anymore.
I bet he’d still look pretty with a mouth full of blood though. And I bet he’d probably like it, twisted as he is. One time in senior year, two jocks pressed him up against the school lockers with a knife to his throat. I remember his wicked smile as clearas day, and once I’d ripped the guys away from him, I didn’t fail to notice the bulge in his jeans.
“Oh,” he says, in a tone that sounds almost bored. “This again?”
“Back off, or you’ll regret it. I’m serious.”
His eyes flick to my hand, bunched up in his shirt, then to my face, and his expression darkens. “Either way you cut it, Daniel, I’m back, and you’re just gonna have to deal with it.”
“I don’t have to deal with anything. And you need to stay away from me.”
“Fine.” He pushes my hand off, and I let him, backing away from him as if his skin burned me.
What the hell did I just do? I’m working, for God’s sake. I can’t go around pushing people up against the wall I just cleaned.
Nathan walks toward Sidney’s and sends a glance over his shoulder. “Once you’ve calmed down, you know where to find me.”
I glare after him. So he’s here. He’s really back.
The boy I waited for. The boy I longed for. The boy I gave up on.
The man I hate.
He dares to come back now, after five years? It’s too late, can’t he see that? What’s broken between us can’t be fixed. He’s a fucking idiot if he thinks otherwise.
I should kill him. I should choke him out with my bare hands and torch his body until only charred bones remain, and it still wouldn’t compare to the pain he’s caused me.