CHAPTER TWO
J eremy
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T here was a limit to how many ways Jeremy could answer the same few questions.
Yes, he d heard of Grayson Johnson. He knew there was bad blood between Grayson and Jean, but did no one at the LAPD pay attention to NCAA Exy? The Edgar Allan Ravens had been fighting with Jean since he transferred off their lineup mid-championships this past spring. No, Jeremy hadn t known Grayson was coming to town yesterday, and no, he hadn t even seen him when he turned up at the Gold Court. Jeremy missed both the fight and Grayson s flight and only saw the awful aftermath. Yes, he d been home all night with Cat and Laila.
But Moreau left, the cop said, for the fourth or fifth time.
He came back around midnight, Jeremy said yet again.
His phone gave a discordant chime. It was the sixth message from home in the last fifteen minutes, and he was in no more hurry to answer this one than he had been the first. Laila s stare was a heavy, knowing weight on the back of his head, but Jeremy refused to return it. He kept his gaze on the doorway like looking would make it easier to hear what was being said down the hall. Now and then the familiar rumble of Coach Rhemann s voice carried as he intervened in the conversation, but he wasn t who Jeremy desperately wanted to hear.
The cop rapped his pen against his notebook and asked, Am I boring you, Knox ?
Jeremy was saved from answering when his phone went off again, this time with an actual phone call. The eerie, wailing tone was one reserved for his family. He hesitated, weighed the consequences of sending it to voicemail, and reached for his phone. The bold WILSHIRE flashing on the screen did nothing to help his mood, but Jeremy turned the phone so the cop could see. The cop huffed a little but collected his notebook and left the room at last. Jeremy waited for him to disappear through the doorway before answering on speaker.
Hey, I m driving, he lied. The cop had had him pull a chair up to White s desk at the front of the room, but now Jeremy turned so he could finally see Cat and Laila. They d claimed seats in the front row and were watching him intently. Can you make it quick?
Your mother has been trying to reach you, his stepfather said, with a tone Jeremy had wearied of years ago. Across from him, Laila gave the phone a look that should have melted its circuits. Stop avoiding her; you re making her worry.
And who told her there was something to worry about? Jeremy wanted to ask, but he knew how that argument would end. Warren Wilshire had two brothers in the LAPD, a detective and a deputy chief, and a recumbent father in Congress. Jeremy would never be a Wilshire, had refused the name every time his mother suggested taking it, but people knew who to call if Jeremy s name popped up anywhere. He d tested it his junior year in high school, collecting speeding tickets just to watch Warren get them quietly removed, and had been made to sorely regret that little rebellion.
Idly he wondered who the police had called first when their system popped up a potential connection between Grayson and the USC Trojans: Warren or Coach Rhemann.
It s been a bit hectic here, as I m sure Milton already told you, Jeremy said. He d seen his step-uncle only in passing when they first arrived back at the stadium, as Milton was part of the crew currently bullying Jean in the next huddle room. I ll call her when I can.
That chance has passed, Warren said. You re coming home for dinner so we can discuss this.
Jeremy smiled to keep his tone light when he said, I can t promise that. The police might have more questions for us, and as team captain I need to be where my teammates can reach me. Leaving campus would be a mistake.
Captain, Warren echoed. He d forgotten; Jeremy could hear it in his voice.
That was Cat s last straw. She cupped a hand over her mouth and said, Welcome to Jackie s, can I take your order?
Who was that? Warren demanded.
Jeremy aimed a cheery One sec, please! off to the side before moving his phone closer to his face. I told you I was driving. Laila and I are grabbing lunch to take back to the stadium for everyone. I need to let you go, okay? I ll call Mom as soon as I have a minute. Warren immediately started arguing, but Jeremy said, Hi, yeah, we ll have- and hung up.
He set his phone down on the desk with more force than intended and looked toward the doorway again. He wanted the police out of his stadium. He wanted Jean away from their pointed, barbed questions. What more could they possibly want to know? How unkind could they be after what Jean suffered yesterday?
Last night Grayson slammed Jean into the unyielding walls of the Gold Court and bit his throat to bleeding. Less than twenty-four hours later he was dead. The police had given up very few details, including where he d been found and how he d died. All Jeremy could parse from their repeated, antagonistic questions was he d passed away in the middle of the night. Hopefully they d been more gracious with Lucas, who d been taken to the station with Coach Jimenez, but Jeremy had little faith in their humanity.
Thoughts of Lucas made Jeremy s heart ache. I should talk to Lucas.
You absolutely will not, Laila warned him. Leave him to Cody or Xavier.
They don t- Jeremy started, but a sudden ruckus down the hall distracted him.
Jeremy got up so fast he sent his chair flying. From the doorway he watched Rhemann escort the police down the hall toward the exit. Jeremy didn t see Jean with them, though there was a chance he was ahead of the group. Jeremy hurried to the next huddle room with Cat and Laila on his heels. The vise around his heart eased a bit when he saw Jean sitting alone in the front row, and he took a seat at Jean s side. Cat stole the chair on his other side, leaving Laila to plant herself in front of him.
Hey, Jeremy said quietly. How are you?
Jean said nothing but fidgeted with the bandages on his throat. Jeremy wondered how long he d been at it, that the edges were so frayed already. Maybe the police had demanded he bare his injuries to corroborate his story. Jeremy remembered what they looked like fresh, with spit and blood glistening on torn skin. He thought about Jean standing fully dressed in the locker room showers yesterday, the haunted look on Jean s face last night when Neil Josten finally dropped him off again, and his quiet If I asked you to kill me, would you? that kept Jeremy up most of the night.
Rhemann stepped into the doorway and looked from one Trojan to another. Let s go. I m taking you all home.
Jean tensed, but Jeremy refused to believe he was surprised. It was enough that he stood without argument, and the four trailed Rhemann out of the stadium. Jeremy waited until they were on the road before asking, Do you need me to call anyone?
We ve got it covered, Rhemann assured him.
The rest of the short ride to Laila s house was silent. Rhemann pulled up behind Jeremy s car and put his hazards on. He turned in his chair to consider the three packed into his backseat and said to Jean, Lean on them as much as you need today. Lean on me if you are willing. If any of you need anything this weekend, reach out to any of us, any time of day. Understood? He waited for Jean s tense nod before glancing over at Jeremy. Stay a moment.
Cat and Laila got the back doors open, and Cat held hers so Jean could slide out after her. Jeremy watched out the passenger window as they went up the stairs to the front door. He thought about Jean tugging the chain last night, rattled and worn. He wouldn t have to lock the door today. How horrible of Jeremy, to feel such relief at that thought.
Jeremy waited until they were inside before asking Rhemann, Is Jean a suspect?
Perhaps the most obvious one, if not for the rock-solid alibi. Do you know where he was last night?
Jeremy gave a helpless shrug. Neil Josten showed up on our doorstep and whisked him away somewhere.
After last year s chaos, Jeremy didn t have to elaborate on who Neil was. He doubted there was a single person in NCAA Exy who didn t recognize the name. The Foxes vice-captain was apparently born Nathaniel Wesninski and had confirmed connections to two different crime families. The investigation into the late Nathan Wesninski was an ongoing fiasco that was nine-tenths rumors still, but it was sure to be a spectacular mess when it finally got off the ground.
Ah, a target by association, then, Rhemann mused. Jeremy frowned, not understanding, but Rhemann took a minute to think things through. At last USC s head coach sighed and said, Listen. If he brings it up with you, let me know. Not the details, he amended, with a hand up like he could ward off Jeremy s words. They re not my business, and I don t want to know. All I need is reassurance we re not sailing into a storm here. Understood?
No, Jeremy admitted. What s going on, Coach?
If I knew, you d know, Rhemann said.
He obviously knew more than he was willing to admit, but Jeremy didn t push it. He had a hand on the doorknob when his phone started ringing, this time with a tune he almost never heard. Jeremy cracked his knuckles against the door in his hurry to dig it out of his pocket. It would be rude to answer with Rhemann right here, so he silenced the ringer with distracted apologies. Rhemann s gaze was knowing when Jeremy looked up again; he d been Jeremy s coach long enough to know all of Jeremy s raucous alerts forwards and backwards.
I ll let you take that, Rhemann said, motioning permission to leave. I ll check in after I ve talked to Lucas and the school board.
Thank you, Coach. Jeremy clambered out of the car as fast as he could go. He had his phone at his ear even before he pushed the door closed behind him, as he wasn t sure how many rings he d missed. Yes, I m here, hello.
For a half-second he thought he was too late, and then the familiar rumble of his father s voice said, Jeremy. Heard you re in a bit of a scrap again.
Yes, sir. Jeremy sat on the front steps and waved as Rhemann pulled away. I m guessing Mom called you.
Even with nearly six thousand miles between them, Jeremy heard his father s distinctive, disgruntled huff. A half-dozen times or so. Mathilda never was one to respect time zones. Do you know what time it is here?
Every time his father moved, Jeremy learned to calculate the hours between them, so he said, Yes, sir, I do.
He clapped a hand over his free ear and strained to hear: not his father s voice, but for any hints of where he was. He thought he heard voices and music, but considering the predawn hour it was likely commercials or a radio. Jeremy ached with the need to ask: where are you, who are you with, are you happy? but knew from experience what his chances of getting a straightforward answer were.
The moment passed as soon as Trent Knox said, You want to tell me why she s blowing up my phone, then?
Jeremy spied a loose thread on the hem of his shorts and tugged at it. Yesterday one of our rivals came by the stadium to pick a fight, and last night he turned up dead. The police need to do their song and dance to make sure none of us had anything to do with it.
Did you?
That hurt enough to startle a quiet, That s unfair, out of him, but Trent didn t waste his time apologizing. The growing silence made Jeremy think he was still waiting for a real answer. Jeremy wanted to refuse him, but without a voice in his ear all he had were his thoughts. No, sir. We were all at home or otherwise accounted for. Mom s just trying to micromanage the aftermath. You know what she s like.
It was less his mother s fault than Warren s, but mentioning his stepfather felt a low blow. Mathilda had always known that deployments were part and parcel of Trent s career in the Air Force, just as Trent knew she would never sacrifice her career or family home to relocate with him around the globe. Maybe they d always known it would end in heartache, her raising his kids with another man and him missing all five-four-high school graduations. Jeremy had never asked; some fights weren t worth getting into.
That s her duty as your mother, Trent said. Man up and stop avoiding her. I don t need her calling me.
Yes, sir, Jeremy said. I ll call her as soon as the police have wrapped things up here.
See that you do, Trent said.
There wasn t a goodbye; there rarely was. His father had said his piece, and the conversation was over. Jeremy lowered his phone and watched the flashing numbers indicating the call time. Not the shortest call they d had over the years, but not the longest, either. In high school he d kept track of each call in a notebook: what day his father called, what drove him to bridge the gap between them, and how long they d spoken before his father decided enough was enough. In four years, Jeremy had only filled a few lines. They were strangers; they always would be. The only thread left holding them together was the name Jeremy kept.
He passed his phone back and forth between his hands, then got to his feet and headed toward his car. He heard the front door open behind him but didn t bother to look back. He knew it d be Laila, just like he knew she d stop him when she realized what he was doing. He got in on the passenger side anyway and tugged open the glove compartment. Right on time, Laila reached in and pushed it shut.
No, she said. You re not allowed to stink up my house.
Jean? he asked.
Cat is keeping an eye on him.
Jeremy scrolled through his phone in search of his mother s number. Despite Warren s and Trent s insistence she was trying to reach him, he was immediately directed to her voicemail. It wouldn t be the first time she rejected his calls in a fit of pique. He sighed as he tapped out a message to the family butler instead: Mom home?
It took William Hunter only a minute to check her schedule and get back with him: She has surgery scheduled this afternoon. I have set out an appropriate outfit for tonight in your room.
He d just missed her, then. Thank you.
Laila waited until he d set his phone on his thigh before giving his hand a short squeeze. Jeremy was afraid to return it, sure he d crush her hand, so he settled for a quick kiss on her knuckles. She smiled, and though it didn t reach her eyes he was comforted.
Let s go, she said. Jean needs you more than they do.
He let her haul him out of his seat and slowed only to lock the car behind him. The living room was empty when they stepped inside, but Jeremy followed the heady aroma of fresh coffee to the kitchen. There were only three stools at the island, and while he d half-expected Cat and Laila to bracket Jean between them, they d given him a spot on the end. Laila reclaimed her spot while Jeremy poured himself a drink. Jeremy leaned against the short side of the island nearest Jean and studied the other man s face.
He wasn t sure what he was looking for. Grief? Lingering trauma? Triumph? Jean just looked exhausted. The scabs running down his face looked stark in the overhead light, and Jeremy s gaze snagged again on the cut that went right to the corner of Jean s eye. He cast about for something to say. Condolences for the latest tragedy to wrack the Raven line was the obvious route, considering how hard the last few had hit Jean, but Jeremy couldn t form the words.
We should be at practice, Jean said, right on cue.
We should not, Jeremy said. It d be in poor taste, don t you think? Lucas will be back in San Diego by dinner, and you need time to process what s happened. No one will be able to focus after they hear the news, so it s best to just call it and start fresh again next week.
Jean frowned his disapproval, but Laila chimed in with, Where is your head, Jean? You ve lost another Raven.
Cat opened her mouth on what was sure to be a strident protest, but Laila gave her arm a warning squeeze. They stared each other down for a few tense seconds, Cat s indignant anger against Laila s unyielding calm. Laila won, as she usually did, and Cat frowned but held her tongue. At Jeremy s side Jean seemed oblivious to the silent argument, staring into the distance as he weighed Laila s words.
He s really gone, isn t he? Jean said, so low Jeremy might have imagined it.
Jeremy studied the shadows in his eyes and the tug at the corner of his mouth. Jean cradled his throat in his palm and tapped an agitated rhythm on the bandage. For a moment he looked lost; for a moment he looked unbearably young. It made Jeremy ache to see Jean like this, but then the tension seeped out of him. His mouth twitched again, but Jean dug his fingernails into his lower lip to stop the smile from forming.
The self-censure was regrettable, but then Jean said, Pop. How easily these monsters die in the end.
The ease with which he called Grayson a monster put a hopeful twinge in Jeremy s chest. Jean s relationship with the Ravens was a complicated mess of love and hate, torn through by his refusal to face the horror of what they d done to him at Edgar Allan. The few times he d slipped up- Not Grayson, please; I didn t ask -he d retreated as quickly as he could behind dismissals and evasion. That Jean felt safe enough now to look so unabashedly relieved was enough to warm Jeremy all the way through.
Cat was encouraged by his response enough to say, Good riddance, too.
Yes, Jean agreed.
Laila allowed them a few moments of triumph, but she d put the pieces together as easily as Jeremy had. If Warren s doing preemptive damage control, the police suspect foul play. We know you re not capable of something like this, but the Ravens have done a number on your reputation this summer. Public opinion is an unforgiving monster when it gets going. We need a plan to get them off your back.
Jeremy looked from Laila to Jean. Coach said Jean has a good alibi.
They already confirmed it, Jean said. They cannot hold this against me.
You were with Neil. Jeremy hoped Jean would elaborate on his own, but the other man only sipped at his coffee. You said he wouldn t have come here if he had a choice. What was he even doing here?
Cat had no patience for tact: What did he do to you? When Jean only frowned at her, she smoothed his hair out of his face and said, You were in rough shape when he brought you home, and he has a bit of a reputation. You can t blame us for being worried about you or for not trusting him.
You do not have to trust him, Jean said. I do.
It wasn t the answer Jeremy was expecting. Maybe Jean didn t expect it either, judging by his small frown as he turned his attention back to his coffee. Jeremy swallowed his reservations and doubts and said, After everything he said about the Ravens last year, I wasn t expecting the two of you to be friends. If he s still in town you should invite him over for dinner.
Jean didn t even hesitate. That ill-bred child is not my friend.
One day you ll make sense, Laila mused. Jeremy s phone gave an ugly chime before Jean could respond, and Laila sent an annoyed look Jeremy s way. Doesn t he have anything better to do today? Why isn t he at work?
This is his week- Jeremy forgot what he was saying when he saw the name attached to his newest message. The dread that settled on him was heavy enough to be a second skin. It s Joshua.
Don t, Laila warned him. Jeremy, do not .
Joshua had spent the last four years pretending Jeremy didn t exist, looking past him and through him at every holiday and mandatory family event. That he would reach out to Jeremy today of all days wasn t a coincidence.
Babe, I m begging you- Laila reached across the island, but Jeremy moved his hand out of the way before she could snatch his phone from him.
Jeremy tapped into the short message, read it in silence, and dropped his phone into his mug of coffee a heartbeat later. Cat s stool fell with a loud clatter as she ran to grab the rice, and Laila nearly took Jeremy s fingers off as she pulled his mug out of his grip. He was distantly aware of Jean s heavy, unwavering stare, but Jeremy watched as Laila fished his phone out and quickly took it apart. Cat was back in moments, pouring rice into a square Tupperware so quickly she spilled it everywhere.
Here, here, she said, and Laila shoved the pieces of Jeremy s phone as deep as she could. Cat dumped the rest of the bag in for good measure and patted the mound down. She started to put it on the island before glancing at Jeremy and thinking twice. He watched her carry it over to the counter because it was easier than facing Laila as she approached him. She pressed a lingering kiss to his temple, and Jeremy wound her long brown curls around his fingers in return.
Think that ll work? Jeremy asked.
I hope it doesn t.
Jeremy sighed as he let go of her. I had to know.
She said nothing, and the silence that settled in the kitchen was tense. Cat could only stand it for so long before she drummed her fingernails on the counter in an agitated beat. I didn t get to finish lunch, and I m starving. I m going to make us something to eat.
Jeremy wasn t at all hungry, but he said, Sounds good.
Jean held his hand out toward Cat in silent demand. She looked poised to refuse his help, then set him up to dice some peppers while she got to work on an onion. When she left to dig a frying pan out of the cabinets, Laila straightened and gave Jeremy s shoulder a push. He obediently took Cat s abandoned middle stool, and Laila settled at his side. Jeremy folded his hands together on the island and willed his heartrate down from its frenetic pace. For a few minutes no one spoke, and the kitchen slowly filled with the smell of peppers and grease.
Sorry, he said. Can someone text Coach and tell him I ll be out of a phone for a bit?
William and the floozies, too, Laila suggested as she set her phone in front of her. She tapped out a couple rapid-fire messages, then leaned forward to look past Jeremy at Jean. Are we adding you to the group chat, or are you not ready to be that sociable yet?
I would also destroy my phone if it went off as incessantly as yours do, Jean said.
Laila rolled her eyes and got back to work. Sometimes a simple no is enough.
A single word is seldom rude enough to make a point.
I m giving your number to Cody, Laila decided.
Jean said nothing, and Jeremy idly wondered if he sensed a losing argument or honestly saw no reason to protest. The two had spent a good part of dinner chatting last weekend, and Cody had swung past Jean as often as they could during practices without stepping on Xavier s toes. Fondness was a gentle heat against the icy pit in his chest, and finally Jeremy could breathe without feeling like he d tear his lungs.
He looked toward Jean. Do you want to talk about Neil?
Jean curled his lip. Do you want to talk about Joshua?
French, then, Jeremy said. Jean frowned at him, not following the abrupt jump in topics. Jeremy smiled like Jean s easy challenge hadn t kicked him in the chest and said, The first time we met, you hit me when I asked if you would teach me. But you didn t seem to care that Neil could speak it last night.
I was not allowed to speak French at the Nest, Jean said, in a tone that said Jeremy was being unforgivably obtuse on purpose. When they found out I taught Kevin anyway, they were-furious. By the way Jean s gaze flicked away from Jeremy at that, Jeremy sensed it was a massive understatement. Equally intriguing was the news Kevin could speak it, but Jeremy set that insight aside for later since Jean was still speaking. They would capitalize on it later when it suited their needs, but they never forgave me for that disobedience.
Jeremy ticked through his options and Jean s possible reaction before asking, So it s not the knowing, but the teaching. Meaning I could learn it somewhere else and that s fine, right? I don t think I can squeeze another class in my schedule this semester without cutting something else out, but I bet I can find a course on CD or something. I m going to be doing a lot of driving back and forth this fall from campus to home.
Too much driving, Laila muttered under her breath, but Jeremy feigned not to hear.
Jean drummed his fingernails on the side of his mug. There is no reason to learn. My English is passable.
Your English is fantastic, Jeremy said. It s not about that. It s your native language, and none of us here can share it with you. That s reason enough for me to learn. Jeremy allowed him a few moments to think it over before pressing on with, If you don t want me to study it, I won t. Just tell me now if it would bother you.
Jean studied him, maybe waiting for a better reason or judging Jeremy s sincerity, and finally said, Do as you like.
Jeremy smiled victory, but it was quick to fade. Speaking of Kevin, I think someone ought to tell him what s going on. I don t know if he should find out via the news that one of his former teammates died in Los Angeles.
He will not care, Jean said. When Jeremy frowned at him, Jean gave a dismissive wave of his knife and pushed his scattered pepper chunks into a pile on his cutting board. The Ravens were a means to an end, and he was always undeniably their superior. He will not waste his time pretending to mourn dead weight; he will be as silent about this one as he was the rest.
It seemed a callous assessment of Kevin s character at first glance, but Jeremy had heard too many of Kevin s private opinions over the years to dismiss it out of hand. Whether Kevin s refusal to meet the press about the Ravens this summer was due to apathy or grief was a mystery for another day; when he came to town for the joint interview in August Jeremy could ask him outright and get a proper answer face to face.
It s not just Grayson, Jeremy said, trying and failing to catch Jean s eye. You were hurt yesterday. Kevin will want to know.
He will not care, Jean said again.
Jeremy was flabbergasted. He is your friend.
He is not.
It was such a fierce refusal Jeremy lost his train of thought. He sent Laila a wild look, but she was only studying Jean with a too-sharp stare. Jeremy turned back on Jean and tried, He s the one who recommended you to us. He s done what he could this summer to help make this transition easier for all of us. And you really think he wouldn t want to know you re safe? You give him too little credit.
You give him too much. You know nothing about us.
You were both abused at the Nest, Laila said, and Jean went still. You know who broke his hand, and he knows who broke your ribs. But neither of you will confront Edgar Allan and put the blame where it belongs. He could have said something this spring when they were spreading such horrific rumors about you. Why didn t he?
I don t know which is more offensive: that you think he could have changed anything or that you think any of us wanted him to. Jean slammed his knife down on the cutting board when Laila looked like she might protest. They would have destroyed him if he dared speak out against them, and I would have helped them do it. Ravens do not turn against the Nest.
You say that, but you re angry he couldn t protect you.
He was not my partner. It was not his job to protect me, and I didn t want him to. I just wanted him to die.
Jeremy s heart skipped a beat. You don t mean that.
Jean dug cruel fingers into his bandages. I was glad when he lost his hand. Exy is all he has and all he loves; I knew it would destroy him to lose it. A month in the Nest without it, maybe two, and he would have no recourse but to kill himself. I was only alive because he made me promise to survive. If he died, who could hold me to that? I would have slashed the tires on his car before I let him escape us, and he knows it.
The silence following that unsettling confession was deep enough to drown in, and then Cat pushed her pan to a cold burner so she could join them at the island. She held her empty hand out palm-up and said nothing. Jean looked from her face to her hand, puzzling it out, then tried to pass the knife over. Cat wrapped her fingers around his wrist and waited for him to look up again before speaking.
I m glad you re alive, she said. I m so happy you re here with us, and I hope you re happy, too. I hope you tell us when you re not so we can help you. You re our friend, and we love you.
Jean s flinch was full body. Don t say that to me.
Cat lifted her chin in defiance. Why shouldn t I? It s the truth.
It can t be. I am just-
Whatever Jean meant to say got caught in his throat, and Jeremy watched as the light went out of him. It was the same look he d come home with last night: the hollow stare of a man fast running out of something to hold onto. Jean wrenched out of Cat s grip with a force that almost pulled her up onto the island. The knife was dropped halfway to the door as he stormed out, and Jeremy was off his stool even before Laila said his name.
He caught up to Jean in their bedroom. Jean was sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, one hand clenched around his ankle and the other knotted in his shirt over his heart. He didn t look up at Jeremy s entrance. Jeremy climbed onto the bed as carefully as he could, waiting for a rejection that didn t come, and settled down back-to-back with him. Jean was tense as a board but didn t move away.
Can I stay? Jeremy asked. I won t say anything else if you don t want me to.
Jean s voice was rough as gravel. You are my partner. I will not tell you to leave.
Jeremy wondered how Jean could still put stock in a system that had let him down so horrifically, but it would be cruel to mention Riko now and Jeremy had seen Jean skirt Zane s name enough to know the man was an equally touchy topic. One day he would ask, maybe. There were bigger problems right now, none of which had easy solutions. The one Jeremy fell back on wasn t the one he meant to start with, but with Joshua s text eating at his thoughts it was what slipped out.
I didn t like it either, the first time she said it to me, he admitted. Jean didn t respond, but Jeremy felt his head turn and knew he was listening. Felt like I d been waiting forever, so it wasn t at all fair to come from her first. Isn t that ridiculous?
Most things about you are, Jean pointed out.
Jeremy laughed. Yeah, you re probably right. But Jean? I m glad you re here, too. Our lives are better with you in them.
Mine would be better if you would stop talking.
He sounded tired, not annoyed, so Jeremy chose not to take it personally. He closed his eyes and let himself relax, testing the easy way Jean took his weight without protest. He wasn t sure what time it was or how long he had until he needed to start home, but Jeremy was in no rush to sort it out. This was enough, for now: the heat of Jean s back against his and the silence that cradled them both as Jean tended his inscrutable thoughts.