those years ago. I’d wanted to taste what they tasted. I wanted to feel that thrill.
Crossing the kitchen, I see a suit jacket on the back of a kitchen chair and a woman’s purse. Reyn’s father must be here—with a date. I’ve seen the cars come and go, the women entering in the evening and out the next day. My pulse quickens, knowing there are other people in the house. For a minute, I consider backing out and running back home, but stop myself.
Laughter floats in off the back patio and I notice the flicker of the fire pit. I stay away from the windows and sneak up the stairs. At the landing, I orient myself, figuring out which closed door would match up with my own bedroom. I pick the one at the end and try the knob. It opens, and I step into Reyn’s room.
It’s the first time I’ve been here, and a wildly different view from my window across the way. The room is smaller than mine, but he also has a bigger bed, one more suited to his long arms and legs. I’m a little surprised to see the bed covers straight, the pillows flat and smooth. His shoes are lined up against the wall next to this closet and the open door shows me a clean line of shirts hanging in a row.
I guess those military school habits are hard to break.
Shutting the door behind me, I notice that the bathroom door is closed and hear the sound of the shower running. I sit on the bed, feeling the adrenaline from the altercation with my mom waning, and wonder if showing up here was the dumb thing to do.
The shower cuts off and yeah, this was a mistake. What am I doing? Sitting in his room, wearing his jacket. Desperate much?
The door swings open. Steam spills out, billowing forth until it clears, and then there he is. Reyn stands in the doorway, towel slung low around his hips. Water drips down his neck, traveling over his chest and torso. His hair is a wild tangle of damp chaos, still being rubbed with the towel he’s holding in his hand.
When he sees me, he goes still. Eyes boring into mine, his mouth parts in surprise, but he doesn’t speak.
I wait for him to ask why I’m here—to ask what’s wrong.
He doesn’t. His mouth pulls into that sexy, dimpled smirk, and he doesn’t look confused to see me sitting on his bed. He just looks pleased.
Maybe this wasn’t a mistake after all.
30
Reyn
It’s worse when I’m bored.
I spend all evening kicking around the house, restless and full of too much energy. Even though he’s busy getting ready to ‘entertain’ a guest, I can tell it’s driving my dad nuts.
“Can’t you go take a run or something?”
I stare at him blankly. “It’s dark.”
He gives me this look like I’m the idiot here. “So?”
“So…” I say it really slowly, drawn out. “There’s this little issue where the HOA, care of Fucking Jerry, doesn’t like me roaming the streets of their precious gated community past—”
“Okay, okay,” he says, flapping a hand. “Then go do homework.”
I pause. “I’d rather face Fucking Jerry.”
He whirls on me. “Reynolds.”
I heed the warning in his voice. Pops hasn’t had any action in five nights, which is practically a dry spell for him, and I’m fine dealing with his ire, but sexual frustration? Disgusting.
My room is just as boring as downstairs. I hear Dad’s lady-friend knock and thank whatever deity is listening for the fact his room isn’t within hearing distance. Really did me a solid there.
It’s not only because I haven’t stolen anything in two weeks. That’s obviously a factor in my massive amounts of boredom, but mostly it’s the lack of challenge. Thrill. Adrenaline. It’s embarrassing how worked up I’m getting over this idiotic Devil prank. It’s juvenile, sure. But it’s also something to fucking do. It’s a risk. It’s something I’ll need to use my skills for, something that I can get away with.
Something I can help eleven other people get away with.
I spend some time going over the plan in my head, but I’m only a minor part of it, and truthfully, getting into the tech room is kid’s play, anyway. It’s all about time management. Instead, I decide to do what any bored eighteen-year-old guy does. I take a shower and jerk off. I really draw it out, too. Make a night of it. Show myself a good time. I think of