“He asked you to babysit me?”
“Yes.” I wasn’t in the business of diplomacy. Years of my sister’s quick temper had taught me that it got me nowhere as fast as brutal honesty. “Guess he figured you were less likely to punch me than you are him.”
“I didn’t come here to punch anybody, and you don’t have to supervise me. I’m not going to nick anything.”
“Don’t care if you do. Nothing here will get you very far.”
Billy leant on the doorframe, his smirk returning. “You actually think I will, don’t you?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“I’m not lying. I know you’re a born thief, Daley, but you once told me you only stole from people you didn’t like, and I’m hoping we don’t know each other well enough to be there just yet.”
“You have a good memory. I don’t remember ever telling you anything.”
Maybe because we hadn’t done much talking the last time we’d been this close, but I didn’t have the balls to bring it up. If my presence was affecting him anywhere near as much as his was me, he was doing a Herculean job of hiding it.
Me? I had to get away before my heart beat out of my chest and hit him in the face.
Idiot.But that was nothing new. My sister was the tough one. Of the two of us, I was the sensitive soul.
I mumbled a goodbye and left him in the doorway. Taking the stairs two at a time, I was in the van before I knew it, jamming the keys into the ignition with shaky hands.It’s not him. I’m just hungry.
Yeah right. I’d had three sandwiches for lunch and a bag of chips as an afternoon snack. I’d suggested dinner as it was painfully obvious, despite Billy’s unearthly beauty, that he hadn’t had a decent meal in months. Sunken eyes, pale skin—that boy was tired and undernourished, two things I could rectify without making an idiot out of myself.
I drove into town and ordered two extra large pizzas, a salad, and some sweet potato fries, just to be safe. While it was cooking, I raided the bakery next door and bought a French-ish apple tart that looked almost as good as Mia’s.
It didn’t take as long as I needed it to, and I got back in the van as keyed up as when I’d left the house.
My house.
With Billy Daley inside it.
Man, it had been a strange twenty-four hours. I took the scenic route home, wishing Billy’s mother was still around so I could borrow her dog and take him for a nice long walk, but she’d taken the dog with her and left Billy behind.
In my house.
I swung the van onto the drive and let myself in. It was still quiet and dark. Assuming Billy was upstairs, I switched the kitchen light on and jumped a mile. “Putain!Dude. What are you sitting in the dark for?”
Billy rose from the kitchen floor, his cat draped majestically around his neck. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare the French out of you.”
“You didn’t scare me.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“Why are you sitting in the dark?”
Billy shrugged, and the shadows made his shoulders seem even slimmer. “Habit. Didn’t have electric at my old place.”
“You had no electricity in your house?”
“It wasn’t a house.”
