If You Fall

Twenty Eight

We got to the other house at noon and Reed immediately glowered at the white pickup in the sprawling yard. "Of course," he muttered as he parked, then added something I couldn't understand.

"What? Who's that?" I hadn't seen this reaction from him often.

"Nothing, no one important. A guy we know. I did not realize he would be here." He saw my apprehension at his mood change and smiled to reassure me. "Don't worry, Addy; he's one of us. We're just not, mmm, the best of friends."

"Do I hate him?" I asked, interested.

He laughed. "Yes. No, not really. He's very nice. Everyone loves him." His tone was dry and he was at least half sarcastic.

"I hate him," I said decidedly, because it was clear he did.

But I couldn't. His name was Joey, and he was twenty-two as well, and had the easiest, friendliest smile, and light blue hair to match mine. I was immediately interested in him against my own will, and definitely to my own mortification, and worked hard to keep it from Reed.

Arianna noticed, of course. "Can't help but love him, huh," she said from her spot on the couch. It was eight that night, and Joey had just passed through with Don, carrying a dresser to one of the bedrooms. They were joking about something and he had included us with his smile and both of us had automatically returned it. "Gotta little drool on your chin."

I smirked and drank some of my Cherry Coke. "What's the deal?"

"He's Malone's nephew, retired from missions. He's, like, a handyman, and then some. Can fix anything." She sounded awed.

"Fangirl much?"

She snorted. "Just wait. He's perfect. He makes Intou look like a bad catch." She had a bottle of ale, which she was absolutely not supposed to be drinking with the morphine, but it was her third one.

I raised both eyebrows at this in disbelief.

She noticed and it was her turn to smirk. "That's why they don't get along. Constant pissing match. Like seven years of it."

I found that hilarious. I had my feet on the coffee table, and I was wiped. We'd been moving stuff all day, putting the house together piece by piece. Someone had brought a moving truck full of random furniture and a plethora of household items; boxes upon boxes of towels, mixed clothing, bedding, art for the walls, spices for the kitchen.

"Also, Intou kind of hates that your hair is the same color as Joey's, if you're clueless."

I looked at her, and she shrugged, but I realized of course it had to be true. It definitely burned that she had noticed it and I hadn't.

Reed came in from the front yard and sat between us. He smelled of cold nights and smoke and himself and it made my mouth water. 

He drank the rest of her beer in three gulps and set the empty bottle back down. "Sorry," he said, stifling a burp. He made a face. "I'll never understand dark ale."

"Delicious," she said haughtily. "Now take your ass to the kitchen and fetch me another."

I raised my eyebrows at the familiarity but clenched my jaw and kept my opinions to myself for the time being.

He snorted. "I don't think you are supposed to be imbibing at all, mon ami."

"Good thing you're not my mom then." She rolled her eyes at him.

He got up and went into the kitchen, returning with two more bottles.

"I thought you didn't understand it." She took one.