A Friend in the Dark - Gregory Ashe Page 0,42
took a few steps across the room before seating himself beside Sam on the bed. He spread his legs a bit, leaned forward, and settled his elbows on his knees. “You afraid the Incredible Hulk thing you got going on will intimidate her?”
“Sure.”
“And you think I’m more, what, approachable?”
It was too much. The heat of Rufus against him, the friction of his thigh against Sam’s, the way their elbows nearly bumped. Sam lurched off the bed and moved to the window unit, face turned down into the hiss of cold air.
“Yeah. Yes. I don’t know. I thought—” Sam wasn’t sure what he thought; the walls were closing in. “I don’t know,” he said again in a tight voice, eyes shut, and then he started counting down from twenty-nine in his head.
“I know I ran, but I don’t stink that bad.”
When the countdown ran out, Sam forced himself to stand up straight and look back at Rufus. “It’s not that. It’s—look, will you help me? Please? I’m sorry about last night. I’m sorry I—I offended you or upset you or hurt you. Whatever I did. I’m sorry. I get it; you’re not interested. I won’t make that mistake again, I promise.”
Rufus rubbed the very light bristle on his chin. “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested.”
“Very funny.”
“It’s just a fuck,” Rufus said, parroting Sam’s words. “But I don’t want to be just a fuck. I trust you. I’ve told you things no one but Jake knew. And—” Rufus cast his gaze down at his high-tops. “—it mattered to me that you said I was cute.”
A hundred things tried to escape from Sam’s mouth, a hundred different stories and explanations: his first time, with Chad Obralt, just hand stuff in the backseat of his dad’s Oldsmobile, and then Chad laughing it off when Sam came around again and again, finally cornering him behind the Save-A-Lot to tell him it was just a one-off, to quit making such a big fucking deal about it; Ovejuna, in the barrack showers, biting his arm as Sam plowed into him and then, in the mess hall, picking up his chow and moving tables when Sam sat down next to him; Jake, twining his fingers through Sam’s that weekend they’d floated the Chattahoochee, the sand in Jake’s hair like ribbons of gold, and then the e-mails after his move to New York, the new girlfriend, it was fun, let’s not pretend it was anything else. All the nights of his life a series of one-offs, no big fucking deal.
But it all got jammed, and Sam didn’t even know where to start, how to tell it so it made sense. So he shrugged and said, “Ok. I’m sorry.”
Rufus looked up again, and after a long silent moment, he nodded. “All right. And I know we aren’t married or anything, but keep the boy toys to a minimum and I’ll help you with Juliana.” He grabbed his beanie and got to his feet.
The suggestions enclosed in Rufus’s words, that he was interested, and interested in more than just casual sex, came too close to a line Sam had drawn for himself in the sand. Here, and no further. He needed them both to back down while he tried not to freak the fuck out; hell, he needed—for himself, anyway—a cold shower.
But instead, even though touch was so difficult for him to handle, even though it threatened to overwhelm him, Sam didn’t back down. In a few steps, he crossed the distance between them. He plucked the beanie out of Rufus’s hand, and then he slowly worked it over the silky red tangles. He used his thumbs to tuck the last of the hair out of sight.
“We need somewhere we can stay,” he said, taking the sunglasses and settling them on Rufus’s face. “Somewhere we can hide until tonight.”
Rufus hadn’t moved an inch. Hell, he might not have even breathed until Sam spoke. “Jake’s apartment,” he said in a sudden rush. “Don’t give me that look. I mean his other place.”
“Right,” Sam said after a moment, “the secret apartment. The one only you know about.”
“Am I the only one?” Rufus asked, tone teasing as he thoughtfully tapped his chin with one long finger.
“Have I ever mentioned you are one sneaky fuck?”
Rufus smiled widely. “Thank you.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jake had never told Rufus about the second studio he rented on the Upper West Side, but snooping was the name of the game and Rufus was the reigning champ. He was a sponge for information,