The Promise of Paradise - By Allie Boniface Page 0,7

any curtains or blinds. He turned over and buried his face into the single pillow he’d brought with him.

Yeah, Ash seemed cool. It might be nice to have a housemate he could hang out with. Then again, he wasn’t very good at just hanging out with women. Friendships with them always turned into relationships. He couldn’t help it. He loved women. Loved watching them walk. Loved listening to them laugh. Loved feeling their hands clutching his back on a summer night, fingernails leaving red lines of passion down his spine.

Eddie got up and headed into the kitchen, where he flipped on the light and ran the faucet as high as it would go. He stuck his head under the running water and slurped. It tasted good and felt even better running down the sides of his face. He shook his head. Droplets flew and dappled the walls.

Wandering back into the living room, he looked around. High-ceilinged, with windows that faced the street, the place gave him a feeling of open space, something he hadn’t had in a long time. He’d stayed at home too long, after the accident. At first he pretended his parents needed him around to get the bills in order, repair the back porch, take care of other things that had started to fall apart. But after almost three years, they didn’t need him hanging around anymore. At twenty-seven, it was time for Eddie to start making a place of his own.

He ran his fingers through his damp hair, then turned and punched the wall. “Damn!” But he wasn’t sure if he swore because of the pain radiating up his wrist or the grief of losing Cal that still caught him in the gut so hard he lost his breath.

Turning, he looked for a box to unpack. Anything to get his mind occupied with something else. He pushed aside one, pulled open another, and saw his brother’s face staring up at him. Eddie stopped breathing. Taken four or five years ago, the two of them were forever frozen in that silver picture frame, tossing a football around the back yard and laughing at their mom. She always snuck up on us and took our picture. We used to hate it. He ran one finger over the glass. Now I wish she’d taken a thousand more.

Eddie tucked the picture into the box, facedown, and shoved the flap back into place. Surrounded by pictures of the past was the last place he wanted to be right now. He headed for the shower instead, doing his best to scrub away the memories.

Better, he thought as the hot water turned cool after awhile. At least he wasn’t feeling so damned depressed anymore. He dropped his towel on the floor, dug through a suitcase for a change of clothes, and ran a comb through his damp hair. Then he darted upstairs and pounded a fist on his new housemate’s door. Ash was absolutely the kind of distraction he needed right now.

* * *

“Hello?” Eddie knocked a second time and still heard nothing. Maybe Jen and Ash had gone out after all. He turned to leave.

“Eddie?” The door cracked open, and Ash peeked out. A hesitant smile lit her face. “Hi. Come on in.”

“Thought maybe you guys were out.”

“Jen left,” she said. “She wanted to get back to the city before dark.”

“You eat yet?”

She shook her head. “I was just wondering what Paradise has in the way of take-out.”

“Well, there’s Primo’s Pizza down the block. Or Louie’s Sub Shop around the corner. They’re both close enough.” The curiosity on Ash’s face stopped him. “What?”

She smiled. “You live here.” It wasn’t a question, but a quiet discovery.

“Oh, yeah.” Eddie nodded. “My whole life. Thought I mentioned it before. I grew up on the other side of town.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Figured it was about time I moved out of my parents’ house.”

She looked at him a moment longer, but he couldn't read her thoughts. Judging? Wondering?

“Pizza,” she decided after a moment. She looked over her shoulder, in the direction of the kitchen. “You know, there’s a pretty cool rooftop out there. Want to get it to go, bring it back here?”

“Now you’re talking.” Eddie said, stomach growling.

“I don’t have anything in the fridge,” she apologized. “We should pick up a six-pack or something, too.”

“Pizza and beer? A woman after my own heart.”

Her cheeks reddened at his words, and Eddie grinned. He liked having that effect on women, making them at