Part 19 (2/2)
David shoved his hands through his hair. The bruise on his poor cheek, I needed to kiss it better. His forehead did that James Dean wrinkling thing as he studied his friend. ”Jesus. Stop making that pathetic face at her. Have some dignity.”
He cuffed the back of Mal's head, making his long blonde hair fly in his face. Skipping back, Mal retreated beyond the line of fire. ”Alright, I'll stay downstairs. I'll even eat your s.h.i.+tty broccoli pizza.”
”David.” I grabbed his T-s.h.i.+rt and tugged him toward me. And he came, abandoning his pursuit of Mal.
”This is supposed to be our time,” he said.
”I know. It will be.”
”Yes!” hissed Mal, getting gone while he was ahead. ”I'll be downstairs. Yell when dinner's ready.”
”He's got a girl in every city,” said David, scowling after him. ”No way was he sleeping in his car. You've been played.”
”Maybe. But I would have worried about him.” I tucked his dark hair behind his ears then trailed my hands down to the back of his neck, drawing him closer. The studs in his ears were all small, silver. A skull, an ”x” and a super tiny winking diamond. I hadn't noticed it before.
He pressed his earlobe between his thumb and a finger, blocking my view.
”Something wrong?” he asked.
”I was just looking at your earrings. Do they mean anything special?”
”Nope.” He gave me a quick peck on the cheek. ”Why were you frowning earlier?” He picked up a handful of mushrooms and started adding them to the pizzas. ”You're doing it again now.”
c.r.a.p. I kicked my heels, turned all the excuses over inside my head. I had no idea how he'd react to my knowing the things Lauren had told me. What would he think if I asked about them? Starting a fight did not appeal. But lying didn't either. Withholding was lying, deep down where it mattered. I knew that.
”I talked to my friend Lauren today.”
”Mmhmm.”
I pushed my hands down between my legs and squeezed them tight, delaying. ”She's a really big fan.”
”Yeah, you said.” He gave me a smile. ”Am I allowed to meet her or is she off-limits like your dad?”
”You can meet my dad if you want.”
”I want. We'll take a trip to Miami sometime soon and I'll introduce you to mine, okay?”
”I'd like that.” I took a deep breath, let it out. ”David, Lauren told me some things. And I don't want to keep secrets from you. But I don't know how happy you're going to be about these things that she told me.”
He turned his head, narrowed his eyes. ”Things?”
”About you.”
”Ah. I see.” He picked up two handfuls of grated cheese and sprinkled them across the pizzas. ”So you hadn't looked me up on Wikipedia or some s.h.i.+t?”
”No,” I said, horrified at the thought.
He grunted. ”It's no big deal. What do you want to know, Ev?”
I didn't know what to say. So I picked up my soda and downed about half of it in one go. Bad idea-it didn't help. Instead, it gave me a mild case of brain freeze, stinging above the bridge of my nose.
”Go on. Ask me whatever you want,” he said. He wasn't happy. The angry mon.o.brow from drawing his eyebrows together clued me in to that. I didn't think I'd ever met anyone with such an expressive face as David. Or maybe he just fascinated me full stop.
”Alright. What's your favorite color?”
He scoffed. ”That's not one of the things your friend told you about.”
”You said I could ask whatever I wanted and I want to know what your favorite color is.”
”Black. And I know it's not really a color. I did miss a lot of school, but I was there that day.” His tongue played behind his cheek. ”What's yours?”
”Blue.” I watched as he opened the gargantuan oven door. The pizza trays clattered against the racks. ”What's your favorite song?”
”We're covering all the basics, huh?”
”We are married. I thought it would be nice. We sort of skipped a lot of the getting-to-know you stuff.”
”Alright.” The side of his mouth kicked up and he gave me a look that said he was onto my game of avoidance. The faint smile set the world to rights.
”I got a lot of favorite music,” he said. ”'Four Sticks' by Led Zeppelin, that's up there. Yours is 'Need You Now' by Lady Antebellum, as sung by an Elvis impersonator. Sadly.”
”Come on, I was under the influence. That's not fair.”
”But it is true.”
”Maybe.” I still wished I could remember it. ”Favorite book?”
”I like graphic novels. Stuff like h.e.l.lblazer, Preacher.”
I took another mouthful of soda, trying to think up a genius question. Only all the blatantly obvious ones appeared inside my head. I sucked at dating. It was probably just as well that we'd skipped that part.
”Wait,” he said. ”What's yours?”
”Jane Eyre. How about your favorite movie?”
”Evil Dead 2. Yours?”
”Walk the Line.”
”The one about the man in black? Nice. Okay.” He clapped his hands together and rubbed them. ”My turn. Tell me something terrible. Something you did that you've never confessed to another living soul.”
”Ooh, good one.” Scary, but good. Why couldn't I have thought of a question like that?
He grinned around the top of his bottle of beer, well pleased with himself.
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