“Love?”I said.“Love?I don’t love him, Bobby.He is a pain in my, uh, patoot.He goes out of his way to annoy me.It’s like he’s obsessed.Like his whole purpose in life is to drive me crazy.I mean, it’s sick how much time and effort and energy he puts into this stuff.”
Bobby looked at me for a long time again before he said again, “Dash—”
“Love him?”I essayed a laugh.“Love?”
“—I know the two of you—”
“I donotlove him.He childproofed the pantry, Bobby!I couldn’t get to my chips for a week!”
After a deep breath, Bobby said, “I know the two of you think this is all fun and games, but I think you should stop now before one of you does something that takes this from endearingly quirky to dangerously insane.And I hate to play this card, but you’re the adult, which means you need to be the one who ends it.”
I opened my mouth.But I realized there might be something to what Bobby was saying.Maybe.Just possibly.
Keme’s footsteps pounded down the hall.
Bobby caught my eye.
With a sigh, I nodded, and we stepped out of the reception room.
Outside, the sound of Millie’s car came closer.Keme was already halfway down the hall.He slowed when he saw us.Confusion, and then wariness mapped his face.Millie’s engine died.Then a car door opened and closed.
I held up both hands in a peace offering.“Uh, hi, Keme.So, really quick, Bobby helped me see that maybe things are getting out of hand, and before Millie gets here, I wanted to suggest a truce—”
Faster than I could believe, Keme’s hand dipped to the small of his back.He pulled out a plastic pistol and shot a stream of water at me.
It connected.
Um, there.
And that was when Millie emerged from the vestibule.She glanced over at us, and her smile faltered into (horrifyingly genuine) concern.“OH, DASH WHAT HAPPENED?DID YOU DRINK TOO MUCH WATER BEFORE YOU HAD A NAP?BECAUSE THAT HAPPENS TO MY UNCLE AL SOMETIMES.”
5
“That boy is messed up,” I told Bobby as I fluffed my pillow.
Bobby was already in bed, wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy sleep shorts, which left lots and lots of smooth, golden muscle on display.Bobby also happened to be scrolling through the music on his phone, and he didn’t appear to be appropriately engaged in my outrage.
“He’s insane,” I told Bobby.“There’s something wrong with him.With his head, I mean.Did you hear how hard he was laughing?”
Like someone who might not have fully heard the conversation, Bobby said, “Millie too.”
I gave the pillow an extra-emphatic fluff and cleared my throat.
Bobby looked up.For a moment, confusion fogged his eyes.Then he said, “Sorry.Say that again.”
He was just too dang earnest.That was part of the problem.
“Keme,” I said.“Remember him?The budding teenage psychopath living under our roof?The one whose sole purpose in life is to destroy me?”
That big, goofy grin spread across Bobby’s face.He patted the bed until I climbed up next to him.Then he pulled me into his arms.He felt nice and solid and warm.I, by comparison, probably felt like a stick of beef jerky still in its plastic wrapper.Bobby tucked his face into my neck.The faintest hint of stubble from the day scratched pleasantly there, and then he kissed my shoulder.He held me like that until some of the iron in my joints and muscles began to soften.His hand moved slowly up and down my back.
“He loves you so much,” Bobby said, still nuzzled into me.“But he’s also a teenager, which means he’s feeling a million different things, all at the same time, and all of them dialed up to a hundred.He’s still trying to figure outwhathe’s feeling, let alone how to communicate it.On top of that, he’s had a rough life.”Bobby pulled back.The burnt bronze of his eyes was like a mirror, holding me, as he said, “He’s had a lot of people let him down, Dash.The fact that he can trust you—be playful with you—is kind of a miracle.There’s this part of him that’s probably still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for you to hurt him or forget him or whatever.So, instead of telling you he loves you, he does this bananas stuff that only a teenage boy would think of.”Bobby scruffed a hand through my hair.“Take it as a compliment.”
“I don’t want to take it as a compliment.I want a bazooka.And a bulletproof vest.”
Bobby laughed and stretched past me to turn off the light.That’s when things got interesting.
Here are some facts about Bobby: he’s warm, he’s gentle, he’s confident, and God help me, he knows what he wants.So, if I got a little caught up in the, er, action, so to speak—well, sue me.My mind was focused on one thing and one thing only.My brain was turning to mush.My body was soft and pliant.I made a noise that I literally can’t put into words, arching up to meet Bobby’s mouth.
