CHAPTER FOUR
Wolf jumped out of bed and bolted out of his room.
He was halfway down the stairs when he realized he was screaming, and he stopped short.
The house was dark except for the glow of the outside lights, casting weird shadows on the walls.
He shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself.
The only sound he heard was his heart pounding in his chest. He was shaking, but not from the chill he felt in his bones, from the aftereffects of the nightmare.
His chest heaved and quaked as he tried to catch his breath.
He hadn’t been running that fast, but his lungs felt as if he’d been running all night. Then he burst into tears.
His legs couldn’t hold him up any longer, and he collapsed on the step.
Pushing his fingers through his hair, he cradled his head in his hands and buried his face in his knees.
He could never understand how he lived through those moments firsthand, as if they were just part of his everyday life, but rehashing them in a dream sent him spiraling, unable to breathe, and on the verge of a panic attack.
He had no idea how long he sat there in the dark, but eventually his racing heart returned to a normal rhythm and his tears ceased.
He looked up at the landing to the second floor.
He didn’t want to go back up there. He didn’t want to sleep.
So, he went into the kitchen and made himself a pot of coffee, because a single-serve Keurig wouldn’t suffice.
He was on his second cup when he decided to walk out front and breathe in the night air, because he was sick of staring mindlessly at the time on the wall oven. He’d been watching the digits change for over an hour.
Outside it was quiet and peaceful, but the air was crisp, and he shuddered.
He realized he was only wearing a pair of boxer briefs but didn’t want to go inside.
He hugged himself as he gazed at the mountains in the distance and the winding roads below.
There was still a decent amount of traffic, even at this hour, because there was always traffic.
A breeze blew his hair in front of his face and made gooseflesh rise on his arms. He began to shiver, so he returned to the kitchen, refilled his coffee cup, and threw on a pair of sweats and a hoodie.
He just took a seat on the back deck when his phone chimed.
Wondering who the hell would be calling him in the middle of the night, he looked at his phone and was surprised to see Harris’ name on the screen. “What’s up? Everything all right?”
“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” Harris said.
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw your lights on from Mullholland, and . . . um . . . I wanted to make sure everything was OK.”
The statement didn’t sound very plausible.
There was a small window where his house was visible from Mullholland, and identifying it while driving—at night—was practically impossible.
The only way to really see it was to park at one of the overlooks and get out of the car, but he didn’t press his friend for more details.
“I couldn’t sleep so I was just getting some fresh air.
What are you doing? Are you nearby? Come over if you’re not doing anything.
” He wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon, so company sounded perfect.
“I can be there in a few minutes.”
“Great. I’ll be waiting.” Wolf stood in front of his house, beer in hand. He’d switched from coffee when Harris decided to come by. Eventually, his alarm app advised him that the gate had been opened and headlights ascended the long, steep driveway before Harris’ Porsche came into view.
Wolf expected Harris to have been at a club or something, but the guy was wearing a T-shirt and shorts. “Where are you coming from?”
“I couldn’t sleep either, so I was just taking a drive.”
Wolf led the way into the house and Harris followed. He retrieved a beer from the refrigerator, handed it to Harris, and they sat at the breakfast bar. “Why couldn’t you sleep?” Wolf asked.
Harris picked at the label on his bottle. “I was worried.”
Wolf studied the crease between Harris’ brows. “About what?”
“About you.” Harris lifted his eyes and met Wolf’s gaze. “You had another nightmare. Didn’t you? That’s why you’re up.”
“How’d you know?”
“I woke up and had a weird feeling in my gut. I couldn’t go back to sleep until I made sure you were OK.
I didn’t want to wake you if I was wrong, so I thought I’d just drive by and see if it looked like you were up.
” Harris paused. “I wasn’t on Mullholland when I called you.
I was at the bottom of your driveway. That’s how I knew your lights were on. ”
Wolf didn’t know what to say. This guy probably drove 40 miles in the middle of the night because of a feeling. It baffled him but also made his insides melt because it was thoughtful and kind. Humbled, his throat closed up. “Thanks. I’m glad you came by,” he said quietly.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Wolf shook his head. He never wanted to talk about it, but he appreciated the company. “Do you want to watch TV?”
“Have you seen Animal Kingdom?”
“What’s that? A show about nature?”
“No.” Harris chuckled. “It’s about a teenager who goes to live with his grandmother and finds out that she and his uncles are a family of criminals. It’s really good. I’m only a few episodes in, so I wouldn’t mind starting from the beginning if you want to see it.”
“Put it on.” They moved to the living room couch, and Wolf handed Harris the remote.
Wolf was riveted from the first episode. They were three episodes in, and he and Harris barely said one word to each other. The biggest surprise was that the uncles, who he expected to be older mobster types, were young hot surfers and one of them was gay.
“Now you see why I wanted to watch this over from the beginning,” Harris said, breaking the silence.
“Because the uncles are fucking hot.”
“That too.” Harris hit pause. “Got any snacks? Or are you getting tired and want me to leave?”
“I don’t want you to leave. I’ll get the snacks.” There was plenty of junk food on hand, so Wolf grabbed a few bags of chips and made a bag of microwave popcorn while Harris grabbed a couple of bottles of water.
They sat on the couch, sharing the family-size bags of chips and split the popcorn between two bowls, and continued to watch the series. Light filtered into the house and brightened the room, and that’s when Wolf realized the sun was coming up. “Shit. What time is it?”
“Almost six,” Harris replied. “I better go.”
“Or . . . you could stay here. I got plenty of room.”
Harris opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, then his lips formed a smile. “I better go,” he repeated.
“OK.” Wolf wished his friend would stay, not only because he was anxious about what would happen if he went back to sleep, but because he enjoyed Harris’ company. He walked Harris to the door, they shared a hug, and the guy left.
The house was immediately empty and quiet.
And lonely. Wolf picked up the mess from the living room, throwing empty bags of potato chips in the trash and water bottles in the recycling bin.
Something on the refrigerator caught his eye, and he turned back around.
On the magnetic note pad stuck to the front of the fridge, Harris had written, “Sweet Dreams.”
A tiny smile upturned the corners of Wolf’s lips as he stared at it.
He ripped the note off, folded it and put it in his pocket, and went back to his bedroom.
Lying in bed, propped up on several pillows, he pulled the note from his pocket and read it again.
The night started to catch up to him, and his eyelids felt heavy.
The words on the note started to blur, and he fell asleep without dreaming.
***
Three consecutive nights of peaceful sleep had Wolf in an exceptionally good mood this morning.
It had been a while since the guys got together and surfed.
Harris’ sprawling mansion sat right on the sand in an ultra-exclusive section of Malibu Beach that offered privacy, and the guy had the luxury of the ocean all day, every day. It was beautiful.
The sun burned hot above the clear blue sky and turned the sand into a glistening carpet of white, while the ocean sparkled in the distance. Wolf looked up and let the sun warm his face and inhaled the salty air.
“I hope you brought something to tie your hair back,” Ethan said, pulling at the length of his hair, which barely dusted his shoulders. “It’s a lot easier this length. I don’t miss it.”
“I like my hair long and flying in the wind.” Wolf leaned his head back and shook it so the breeze could carry his hair in the air.
“Oh, no,” Tyler sauntered over holding out a soft hair tie. “I will not let you go out there on a surfboard and have your hair a knotted mess. Absolutely not. It’s too beautiful. Here. Promise me you’ll tie your hair up with this.”
Wolf took the velvet hair tie, which he probably wouldn’t use, and slipped it over his wrist, then looked down at Tyler’s blinding neon green swim trunks. “Is that your surfing outfit?”
Tyler’s hand went to his chest, and his perfectly shaped eyebrows skyrocketed. “Me? Surfing? No thank you. I’m a New York boy. I don’t surf. But I’ll be happy to watch and take photos.” He paused. “OK, I lied. I’m going to lounge on the shore and work on my tan.”
Ethan threw his arm over Tyler’s shoulder and kissed his cheek. “You’re such a diva, but that’s what I love about you.”
Harris came running through the sliders and onto the deck, holding his surfboard in his hands. “Look at those waves! Let’s go. What are you guys waiting for?”
“We’re waiting for Marshall,” Ethan replied. “Where the hell is he?”
“I’m right here.” Marshall walked onto the deck from inside Harris’ house, and they headed down to the water with their surfboards, except Tyler, who carried a folded-up lounger and a giant tote bag full of who-knows-what.