Lyle steps aside and motions us into the foyer. “Come on in,” he calls, grinning from ear to ear.
Sydney and I go inside, and I immediately notice the big guy from the rugby team sitting at the foot of the stairs, drinking from a red cup. He’s the one who told the security guard to relax. Demarcus stands and leans on the railing when we walk in.
“Demarcus Dozer,” he calls, introducing himself. His smile is warm, and I think that in person, he doesn’t seem as vicious as he does on the field. It’s an interesting contrast between life andgame time, how aggression is encouraged in some cases.
“Philomena,” I reply.
“Welcome,” he says, lifting his drink in cheers before sitting back down.
I take in the rest of the room. There are two guys I don’t recognize on the couch, mid-conversation. The living room is well decorated, although not elaborate. Nothing like Winston Weeks’s place. This is homey and inviting.
There are footsteps before Jonah Grant appears in the doorway of the kitchen, holding a red cup.
“This is a nice surprise,” he says. He sips from his drink, looking me over. It’s not predatory, but it is expectant. Like I should return the compliment immediately. I decide I might need to play along to gain their trust.
“Yes, it’s nice to see you too,” I say. He chuckles and I realize I’ve answered far too formally. I’ll have to work on that. “This is my friend Sydney,” I say, nudging her arm.
“Hey,” she calls to him, sounding effortlessly cool. Jonah grins and replies with his own “Hey.”
“Do you want a drink?” Lyle asks us. He seems extra nervous, so I accept the offer even though I don’t plan to drink. Sydney declines, and gazes around instead.
“Lyle,” Sydney says after a moment, “do you mind if I use your bathroom?” She skips directly to the mission, which I can appreciate. I would have maybe put in an appearance first, but I trust her judgment.
“Sure,” Lyle says. He motions to a hallway on the other sideof the stairs. “Second door on the left. Next to my mom’s office.”
“Great!” Sydney replies. She hikes up one eyebrow to let me know she’s going to search the office for paperwork. When she leaves, I follow behind Lyle toward the kitchen.
When I get to where Jonah is standing in the doorway, he waits an extra beat before moving out of the way. He stares down at me, almost curiously, as he sips from his cup. I’m starting to feel a bit on edge. It’s only occurring to me now that Sydney and I are outnumbered. We should have considered that sooner.
Lyle grabs a cup from a plastic sleeve and fills it with various liquids lined up along the counter.
“Here you go,” he says proudly, holding it out to me. When I take the drink from his hands, he reaches out his own in cheers. I force another smile and knock my cup against his. I pretend to sip from my drink. The smell of it makes my eyes water.
“Are you two going to hide in here all night?”
I turn and find Jonah looking bored as he enters the kitchen. He wants my attention, and I think it bothers him that I won’t give it easily.
“Would you like a tour?” he asks me.
I laugh. “You don’t even live here,” I say.
“Then we’ll discover it together,” he says. “Come on. Give me a reason to stick around. I want to get to know you better.” He smiles. “You’re so mysterious.”
It takes all my patience to not roll my eyes. He thinks he’s charming, but in truth, his words sound like well-rehearsed lines. They’re inauthentic. But I nod.
“Sure,” I tell him, and then glance at Lyle. He seems hurt that I’m leaving, and I debate it, but ultimately, I’m here on a mission. That means helping Lyle feel better about himself doesn’t make the list.
I walk with Jonah into the living room, and he introduces me to “the guys.” He doesn’t bother naming them, and they seem to take the hint. I get a few chilly waves, and then I see their side glances at each other. Jonah has called dibs.
“Now,” he says, “I think there’s an office or something over here.” We start to round the stairs, and I worry about walking in on Sydney mid-search. I quickly grab Jonah’s arm.
“Wait,” I tell him, completely at a loss for what to say next. He looks down at where I’m touching him, and I quickly drop my hand.
“What’s upstairs?” I ask, lifting my cup in that direction. Jonah smiles slyly and it turns my stomach.
“Let’s go find out,” he replies in a breathy voice. He reaches for my hand, and I let him take it as he leads me toward the steps. His palm is wet and warm, and I think I might throw up a little, so I take a sip from my drink, wincing the second I do.
As Jonah pulls me up the stairs, I crane my neck over the railing to see if I can catch Sydney, but all the doors to the rooms are closed. For now, I’m on my own.
