Crew rolled his eyes. “Sure, let me just pry Brandt away from his and risk getting yelled at. Or, better yet, interrupt your stewing and risk getting flirted with. Amazing options, Prince Charming.”
I quirked an eyebrow at him. When we locked gazes, I refused to look away. I knew his eyes would tell me everything I needed to know. The shocking blue was muddied, looking similar to when I’d cornered him, and he’d turned his back on me. A storm brewed within them. I leaned forward, staring straight into the depths of what I knew to be his soul. Metal glinted off the prison cell. Crew kept locked up tight.
What are you hiding, Crew?
It didn’t matter that he couldn’t hear my thoughts; let alone answer them. When Crew was near, my soul stopped raging against me. The incessant itching lowered to a manageable ache. One day, I’d slide my palm along his body and bask in the relief I knew it’d give me.
“I’m sorry that my mood has disrupted your work, Pretty Boy. You can use my computer and printer any time you need to.” I settled back in my chair.
A slight chuckle came out of his mouth faster than I could finish my sentence, like he didn’t believe me. “Yeah, all right. But if y’all get into it over that, I’m putting all the blame on you.”
“Where are you from?”
He paused for a few moments, probably catching up to the topic change. “What do you mean?”
“You aren’t from here. You say ‘y’all’ and pronounce pecan likepuh-con, and you already have a slight accent, but when you’re all cute and angry, it really shines through.”
I watched as he puffed his chest a little. Crew was adorable when he got defensive. “You’re right. I’m not from here. I’m from Arkansas.”
“Whoa.” I set down the pen I’d been playing with, needing all my focus on him. “That’s a ways away. How did you end up in Crescent Planes?”
Finally, I was graced with a laugh. It sounded genuine, which I didn’t hear often. “Willow and I are from a super small town. A total population of six hundred—no more, no less. There wasn’t much room to dream back there. The biggest town within a hundred miles of us was Tiger Falls, which was more of a tourist town than anything, if you could even call it that. Wasn’t worth going to except for the little camp there.”
His mouth tilted down in a frown, his eyes taking on that same cloudy look before shaking his head and continuing. “New York became our dream.” A shrug of his stiff shoulders. “We didn’t know what we were gonna do, but right after graduation, we left and never looked back.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Sometimes.” He seemed to think about it for a moment. “I miss the country. Arkansas is the natural state, you know. It was gorgeous, and there was always a hidden creek to hang out at or a breathtaking hiking trail to get lost on.”
When he smiled, I stopped trying to imagine what it looked like. I didn’t need to paint an image of beauty in my mind when one was sitting right in front of me.
A few strands of hair swooped near his eyes when he looked down. I watched him slowly withdraw from the conversation, folding his shoulders close again. “I guess you’ve always lived here?”
“In New York, yes. I moved to Crescent Planes when I was nineteen.” When I realized I had lost Mom, too. No matter how much I begged her, she didn’t even show up at my graduation.
Crew peered up behind his eyelashes. The side of his mouth was pulled tight into a smirk any smart-ass would be proud of. “You definitely look the type.”
The hint of sass and attitude in his tone was enough to have me asking for more. I fucking loved when Crew got snarky with me. “Oh? And what’s that?”
“City boy, emo Prince Charming.” He waved a hand in my direction, motioning it up and down. “You probably go to a nice barbershop where they charge a hundred bucks to do little more than wash your hair. I bet the lotion you use costs a pretty penny, too. Do you have more than one? Maybe a lotion specifically for all those tats you’ve got, another for your hands.”
I threw my head back, lost in laughter. “Okay, you’re one for three so far. I do have more than one lotion. Is that such a crime, though?”
Putting a hand over his heart, Crew looked at me, his face scrunched. “Do you have more than two?”
I looked to the side, deciding no answer was the best answer.
“You do!” He gasped dramatically. In a stage whisper, he leaned forward enough to hide his words from the invisible audience around us. “You’re a city gay. You’ve got a whole bottle dedicated to your legs and feet, huh?”
All right, he was quickly going from funny to scarily accurate. “City bisexual,” I corrected him. “But that’s not the point. What does a country gay like yourself do?”
Crew slumped back in his chair. He ran a hand through the top of his thick hair, slicking his palm down the longer back. “I use Willow’s moisturizer when I’m in dire need, which is rare, and I do my hair myself. Though I never claimed to be good at it. I should probably see a professional, but I’m not sure many would like to work around shitty box dye and an even shittier bleach job.”
“I like the style you have going on. Personally, I haven’t seen too many guys that can pull off the mullet type like you.”
“I wasn’t going for a mullet initially. Guess that’s what it’s turned into, though.”
“Intentional or not, I like it. You’ve got such a nice face, Pretty Boy. This accentuates that.”
