“Simmer?” he asked, head tilted down as his brows went up in confusion.
“Yeah, like take it down a notch. Chill out. Whatever the youngsters say nowadays.”
To that, he snorted. And I had to admit, I heard how “old man” it made me sound.
“I just mean you’re a lot for someone like me,” I said, trying to make my tone a little softer.
“Someone like you?” he countered with a lopsided grin. “A shut-in? An anti-social grumpy pants? Or do you mean more like… grandpa, you know, shaking your fist at the neighborhood kids because they’re playing ball in the street and disturbing your peppermint candy time?”
Mouth parted and hand paused midair in front of my face with a ravioli preciously perched on the fork, I glared at him.
“Was that offensive?” he asked, not sounding like he really cared if it stung me.
He was somethin’, alright. He made even the most cutting remarks seem like someone was handing you a bowl full of candy. I wanted to hate him, yet… looking at his face, I couldn’t. That said, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could handle him around constantly. He was a lot for…someone like me.
“The decorations can stay,” I told him, doing my best to keep the sour out of my expression and tone.
“Really?” His eyes danced with excitement, and I couldn’t deny how my chest puffed up at the fact that I had made the light come back to him. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said, then stuffed the ravioli in my mouth and chewed before I could say anything else. Like, give him the okay to put up more shit. Or worse, tell him I’d go cut him down a tree to decorate as long as it made him happy. That would have been fuckin’ stupid.
“So… do you live out here alone?” he asked, and when I cut my eyes at him, he nodded once, slamming his mouth shut in the process. “Right. Yeah. No, I get it. You’re a lone wolf kind of guy.” There was a beat of silence as he shoved a ravioli into his mouth and chewed. “Do you have any siblings?”
“Yes,” I grunted, standing up abruptly, making the chair legs scrape across the wood floor in a way that made us both cringe. “Beer?” I asked, stomping my way over to the fridge.
“Do you have anything stronger?” he asked with nervous laughter ringing through. I didn’t, but I fuckin’ wished I did, because I was sure we were feeling the same thing right now.
This shit was awkward. We were two different people who liked two totally different things and two completely different ways of life, forced to share a space. The easiest way to get through it would be to face it three sheets to the wind.
“I’m kidding. Beer is good. Thanks.” His words had me shaking out of my thoughts and reaching for two bottles that had been shoved to the back because all of his groceries were taking up space in my small refrigerator.
I cracked ’em open, tossing the caps in the trash, then walked back over to the table. I still wasn’t sure if I was ready to sit down because I didn’t know if I could handle more of perky Danny and all his talking and his million-and-one questions. But I had to. Especially if I wanted to finish eating. And I was fucking hungry.
“How many siblings do you have?” he asked.
I kept the sigh internal, but I was sure it was written all over my face. After I took a long pull of my beer, I answered, “Six.” I hated myself because I damn well knew it would only lead to more questions.
And just like I thought, he kept trying to ask me questions about myself throughout the short meal. I kept giving him clipped answers, hoping it would cause him to give up, butit didn’t. By the time I was cleaning up the dishes while he showered, I realized that he hadn’t really learned anything major, but he now knew more than most people.
As I stood there drying the last plate and sliding it into its rightful place on the open shelf, it struck me so hard I damn near paused for a minute.
He’d dug into me, trying to get to know me, and I’d been a total asshole. Sure, it wasn’t surprising, but this time I actually felt like I deserved that title. Because while he was trying so fucking hard to get to know me, I hadn’t asked a damn thing about him.
Maybe I wanted quiet and solitude, but I didn’t think anyone should ever be invisible unless they wanted to be.
Danny was the sun. He was joy and radiated wild energy—good, but still wild. It was clear he craved human contact. He wasn’t like me at all, and I’d probably made him feel like he didn’t matter a single bit.
So, yeah.
Might as well tattooassholeright across my forehead.
CHAPTER NINE
Danny
“Uh…” I started nervously as Killjoy pushed around eggs in a cast-iron skillet. It was filled with bacon grease, and while it smelled divine, I didn’t understand how the man could eat like that and look the way he did. There was no workout equipment in this place. It wasn’t like I had to go snooping to find that out because I could literally stand in one corner of the house and shoot my load in the other corner. That was how small the cabin was.
Maybe that was what he did out in that big shed-slash-garage. He just spent all day, sweating and pumping iron and…
