Rule Breakers (Off Limits #2) - Nicky James Page 0,58
Though I think he’s a bit more sensitive. It was easier for you to let things roll off your shoulders. You didn’t care as much about what other people thought of you. Regardless, what would you have thought at his age if someone had told you that you were too young and immature to make decisions? Too young to know what you wanted in life?”
“They’d have been right.”
“No. That’s not what I’m asking. Plus, you’re thinking like a forty-year-old man.”
Harley let out a long-suffering sigh. “I know.”
“He’s on board, Har. And so are you.”
“I can’t get him out of my head.”
Although I was alone in my office, the door was open. It was unlikely anyone was around and listening, but I dropped my voice anyhow. “I really want to see it. You two together. I want to share him with you. I have fantasies like you wouldn’t believe. We could turn his world inside out.”
Harley was quiet on the other line, but I knew he was absorbing it all.
“I took him to the clinic Saturday morning. We should have test results this week.”
“Promise me something?” Harley’s voice was raspy and serious.
“Anything.”
“If for one minute you sense he’s not okay or that it’s having a negative impact on him, you tell me. You know, in case I don’t see it. I have a habit of getting blinded by lust and desire, and I don’t want to miss any signs.”
“I promise.”
A knock on my office door interrupted the seriousness of the moment. Portia hovered in the doorway.
“Hang on, Har.” I lowered the phone. “Can I help you?”
She thumbed over her shoulder. “Meeting in ten minutes. Conference Room B.”
“Thanks.”
She walked away as I brought my phone to my ear.
“I have to go. Portia claims I have a meeting.”
“Portia? Jesus, that sounds like a stripper name.”
I cringed. “Believe me, not stripper quality.”
“What would you know?”
“I can be gay and know when a woman is good looking. Portia is… plain.”
Harley chuckled. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“You should come by the house.”
“Yeah.”
“We could at least talk about the dynamic between us. How it’s going to work.”
“Okay. I will. In a few days. Just… give me a few more days.”
“Hey, Har?” I said before he could hang up.
“Yeah?”
“I love you, you know.”
“I know. I love you too.”
“Call your son.”
He hung up.
Something was up with Edison.
On Monday, when he snuck into the house at two thirty in the morning after having been gone all night, I’d rolled over, grumbled, and had gone back to sleep. I figured he’d been studying at a friend’s after school and crashed.
On Tuesday, when he didn’t show up at the house for dinner and wasn’t home when I crawled into bed at ten, I worried. He hadn’t called or texted nor had he responded to the few I’d sent. Again, it was long after two in the morning when he snuck into the house.
Wednesday morning, he didn’t get up with me. It had become routine, crashing around the kitchen and fighting over the bathroom as we got ready for our days. When I poked my head into the spare room, he was out cold, drooling on his pillow. His room stank of stale beer and a cloying mixture of cologne and body spray.
I didn’t wake him, even though I knew he had class at eight.
When I got home from work on Wednesday night, he was gone again. No note. No text. Just gone. His laptop and school bag were in the same spots they’d been in that morning. His textbooks were scattered in the same places as before. My stomach knotted.
I phoned Harley, who still hadn’t managed to find the courage to come over. As it rang, a thought struck me out of nowhere. Had Edison been with Harley this whole time? Were they working things out between them?
That made no sense either. Harley wouldn’t do that without informing me.
“I’m driving. Give me a sec,” Harley said when he answered. I waited impatiently while the sounds of traffic filtered through the phone line. A minute later, he spoke. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Is Edison with you?”
“No, why?”
“Have you seen him the last two nights?”
“No. Den—”
“Did you call him like I told you to? Text him? Anything?”
“No. Jesus. What the hell’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Where are you?”
“I was heading to Vanya’s for dinner. Why?”
Our sister. Harley’s twin. They didn’t hang out often and weren’t as close as Harley and me, but they did share a bond I couldn’t touch. Harley tended to gravitate to