I felt my heart hammer against my chest.
“James, cut it out. She was just joking,” his clean-shaven friend insisted. Right then, William came back with our drinks, but I was so shaken that my hands were trembling.
“What’s going on here?”
I blushed partly out of embarrassment and partly out of rage.
“We were just heading out,” Jackson grumbled. The trio turned around and walked away.
I don’t know why, but once again I got the impression that William had some sort of power over James. Maybe the kind that could make him drop off the face of the earth.
“How can you stand him?” I asked bluntly. William put the glasses on the table carefully so they wouldn’t spill.
“He’s my best friend.”
“That’s not a good enough reason. He has anger issues, he has self-control problems, he’s rude, he’s violent.”
William looked down with a sly smirk.
“What’d he say?” he asked.
I didn’t answer.
“And what’d you say to him, June?”
“Nothing, just that he was an alcoholic with a DUI in his future.”
I noticed his brow furrow. “It’s better not to make any jokes about alcoholism. He’s being a dick, but he has his issues too.”
“Quite a few, I’d say.” Still, I knew it had been uncalled for.
But regardless of James’s past or present family situation, he didn’t have a right to act like that. And what kind of problems could he have had? The usual violent dad and absent mom? I hated James Hunter so much that I couldn’t feel sorry for him, whatever had happened.
“Let’s not ruin the night with tragic stories,” William suggested, in an attempt to change the subject. “Shall we get back to us?”
The sweetness in his voice was electrifying, and so my muscles slowly relaxed.
“Maybe that would be better.” I sighed.
“So how many times did you change schools?”
“Too many.”
“How do you start over every time you move? New house, new friends . . .”
“I’m used to it now. I’ve got my little world in a suitcase that I always bring with me, and somehow, I feel at home.”
William lowered his head a bit and gazed into my eyes. “And what’s in June White’s little world?” Books, notes, loneliness. Were those too pathetic to tell a guy as hot as him?
“I like reading thrillers and spending evenings watching true crime shows,” I replied without thinking.
“I read a lot, too, when I was a kid. Mostly comics, but I stopped. I prefer movies.”
His tone was calm and reflective. Maybe William was too patient. That would explain why he was friends with those thugs. They certainly took advantage of him.
“Do you write too?” he asked inquisitively.
I nodded.
