He pulled away, breaking their lips apart, and lost himself in Charlie’s liquid gaze, those soulful eyes that seemed to go on forever. “Do you want—”
The front door slammed. Charlie’s eyes widened, and he slid off the couch like he’d never been there at all. “Shit, that’s Dad. Turn the telly on.”
Leo blinked and forced himself upright, straightening his clothes, and hoping the heat in his cheeks was imagined. He fumbled for the remote, and the TV came to life, blasting the room with whatever R&B crap Fliss had been dancing around to before she’d left for work.
Charlie flung himself into an armchair just as Reg reached the doorway. “All right, Dad?”
“So, so,” Reg said. “What are you two up to?”
“Watching telly,” Charlie said.
Reg glanced at the TV and raised an eyebrow. “Sure about that? Doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.”
“Like you’d know,” Leo said. “Charlie loves all that Usher shit.”
“Language, Leo,” Reg said, though he seemed amused by the glare Charlie tossed at Leo. “Anyway, regardless of what I do and don’t know about your taste in music, I know what mischief looks like, so whatever you two have been up to, you’d better not have made a mess.”
Charlie kept his gaze firmly on the TV, so Leo shrugged. “We haven’t made a mess.”
“Good,” Reg said. “Right, Leo, I need to borrow you for a moment, then you can get back to whatever you weren’t doing before I came home.”
Leo begrudgingly hauled himself off the sofa and followed Reg into the kitchen. “What have I done?”
“Nothing that I know of,” Reg said mildly. “I wanted to let you know your follow-up appointment with the burn specialist came through. It’s in a few weeks.”
“Oh.” Leo’s stomach turned over, reclaiming the nausea he’d only just shifted from his weird illness the week before.
Reg turned away and filled the kettle. “I can imagine that the prospect of another operation is frightening, Leo, but it might not come to that. The consultant said the old graft might correct itself.”
“I heard what he said.”
Reg said nothing, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the hiss of the boiling kettle. Then he moved to the table and pulled out two chairs, gesturing for Leo to sit.
Leo sat, and Reg went on, “I don’t want to harp on about what happened last time we went to the hospital, but you have to know it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Plenty of people who haven’t been through half of what you’ve endured have much worse reactions to serious injury.”
“I didn’t react. Just felt sick, that’s all.”
“Fair enough.” Reg let out a soft sigh. “But talking of feeling sick, Kate reckons you’ve looked under the weather all week. Is there anything we can do for you?”
“Nah.” Leo pushed back his chair with a harsh scrape. “I’m fine, so you can leave me alone.”
Leo escaped the kitchen as fast as he could without running. For once, he’d told Reg the truth. Hedidfeel fine, aside from the heat building in his injured arm, woken by flashbacks of his visit to Dr. Frankenstein. Whatever had laid him low last weekend was fading too, erased by the distraction of Charlie’s magical kisses.
Shame Charlie had disappeared from the living room by the time Leo got back.
Tuesday afternoon was officially the dullest part of Leo’s week. Double chemistry with Mr. Lanning, the most boring man in the world with a voice to match. Today, Leo let the droning wash over him and laid his head on his folded arms, closing his eyes, and on cue, Charlie popped into his head. His eyes, his inky hair. His shy, crooked smile and the lush smooth skin Leo had spent most of the previous evening exploring with his fingertips. He had Charlie’s back committed to memory now.I wonder if his chest—
Wayne kicked him under the table, and murmured from behind his hand. “What are you grinning about?”
Was I grinning?Leo had no idea. He schooled his features into the insolent smirk Wayne likely expected from him. “I’m not grinning, I’m dying over here.”
“Old Lanning ain’t so bad. Rather his shitty lesson than that history crap we’ve got tomorrow.”
Leo sighed. “This isn’t a lesson, it’s torture. If Lanning wasn’t a teacher, he’d be a prison guard.”
“Nah.” Wayne sniggered. “Lanning’s not that interesting.”
“Quiet.” Mr. Lanning knocked his fist on the table right by Leo’s head. “I won’t tell you two again.”
