“He has a punchable face.”
I laugh. Can’t help it.
Joss laughs too and the heaviness fades. But he’s not done. “I regret not forgiving her when she was alive. It stayed with me a long time, and it was much harder than being angry.”
“Is that your way of telling me to get over myself with my dad?”
“Fuck no. He sounds like a wanker. I’m just saying don’t cling to something he can’t change. Sometimes you gotta let go of something to hold onto it, you know?”
It’s a riddle I can’t solve. Not yet. But I get the sentiment, and I fall a little harder into my growing obsession with him.
A little deeper.
I’ve never thought about anyone as much as I think about him. I try to remember what my life was like before him.
Can’t. However long he’s here, I’ll never be the fuckin’ same and not just because he’s the best kiss I’ve ever had.
Stop thinking about kissing him. It ain’t the time.
I drain my beer and set the bottle aside with undue care. “I hear you.”
“Good, cos it’s not often I give out cracking advice.”
“No?”
“Unless it’s look at me and do the opposite.”
“Why do you think you’re such a screw up?”
“Never said I was. Just that Iscrew upa lot. There’s a difference. Least, I hope there is.”
Joss finishes his beer too. We stare at each other under the stars. There are lights for this deck, but I’ve never bothered to figure out how to turn them on, and I’m grateful for that. Joss doesn’t need artificial light to be beautiful. And if I see him any more clearly, I might combust.
I tap my fingers on the lounger. It’s his signature move, not mine, and he grins.
“Something on your mind?”
I still my fingers. “Like what?”
“Like…that time you didn’t shove me in the river. I took it at face value, but we never talked about it.”
“We didn’t, did we?”
“Nope.” Joss stretches, arching his back and his neck, exposing the curve of his throat. “And we don’t have to, if you want to confine it to the dungeon of experience.”
“Why does it have to be a dungeon?”
“That’s where most things end up if you ignore them long enough.”
“Not true. Sometimes they end up splatted on the sidewalk in front of you.”
“Metaphor?”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “I was a science major. English sucks.”
“You went to college?”
“Moo U, baby.”
