Chapter 5 Damon
FIVE
Damon
Wednesday’s practice was tremendous fun. I hadn’t laughed as hard or played as well in ages. Slamming my friends into the boards and chasing that puck on the ice had all the makings of a perfect afternoon.
Coach Neilsen had placed me as the captain of the mock team for a scrimmage, facing off against Keiran and his team. We clashed and crashed until there wasn’t a man without a bruise in the whole rink.
I like the rough play on and off the ice. Having a go at my closest friends was twice as sweet.
After I’d showered and dressed, I didn’t think this day could get any better.
I’d already done the rounds of the gym and rink and had some introductory lectures that seemed like an effortless pass.
So when I stepped out of the rink and into the evening air, I didn’t think the universe would make a random Wednesday even better.
Seth stood by the streetlamp on the curb, hands tucked into his pockets, jacket hugging him tightly around the shoulders.
I swaggered over to him and allowed myself to smile as if I had a choice once my lips stretched and locked. “Here to ruin my day?”
“Hope so,” he said, eyes flashing with delight. “I’m new here. Figured you could show me what’s what.”
“Please?” I raised an eyebrow with maximum condescension.
Seth barked a laugh. “I’d rather be lost forever.”
“Thought so,” I said. I gestured with my head down the street when I heard the laughter of my teammates, Seth’s face darkening a little with concern. We moved into the shadows and quickened our pace to escape the prying gazes of my friends. “I thought you didn’t want to be around me outside.”
“I didn’t,” Seth admitted. “Then I met my brother for lunch and changed my mind.”
“I love it,” I said, words huffing out of me with unrestricted joy. “If I ever want you to do anything, all I need to do is get Nick to advise you against it.”
Seth snickered. “So far, he’s advised me against every kind of sin in the Good Book, so take your pick.”
I rubbed my hands excitedly. “How do you feel about some gluttonous intoxication?”
“On a Wednesday night? You’re confusing me with the reflection in the mirror, Pierce,” he said. “Do better. Let’s eat something and catch up.”
We stuck to the shadows until we reached the student center, where I told Seth to wait for me. “Still a vegetarian?” I asked.
He nodded in all his moral superiority, and we shared a laugh. I admired it, really, but I’d never tell him that.
Seth waited for me in an alley between two fast-food joints while I hopped in to get some food to go. They prepared it quickly and wrapped it well, then tossed it into a bag with two cans of Coke and a portion of fries to share.
I walked out and had a moment of fright when I couldn’t see him. Abandonment issues much? Seth moved in the shadows, and relief flooded me. “Where to?” he asked.
“Science building roof, via the fire escape stairs,” I said. “They never lock them.”
“Close to home,” Seth said with appreciation.
We went to the science building, where Seth’s super-awesome lab was, and climbed the three flights of metal stairs in the back of it, reaching the flat roof with ease.
Old exhaust vents weren’t in use anymore, replaced by a newer ventilation system years ago, so they made for a great set of chairs on the roof. The sky above us lacked the stars you could see on any night back in our little town.
We sat down shoulder to shoulder, and I handed Seth his falafel. I balanced the fries on my knee and unwrapped my kebab. “If you kiss me later, you’ll break the vegetarian streak,” I said.
“Too bad for you, then,” Seth said and bit off a chunk of the wrap. The satisfied little moan coming from his nose turned me on harder than it ever should have. No one had the right to be that hot eating a falafel, dammit.
He glanced at me. I didn’t know what he saw on my face, but the funny way he ogled me said I was making an expression, alright.
“What?” he asked.
I shook my head. “You’re just sexy when you eat.”
He snort-chuckled.
“Ah, it’s gone now,” I said.
He laughed harder. “Trust me to shatter the illusion.”
“Never doubted you for a second.” I took a bite of my kebab and barely contained a hypersexual moan. Fuck, but it was tasty.
We ate quietly, commenting on the quality of the food, and occasionally brushing our hands against each other when reaching for the fries.
“Next time, we’re getting meatball pasta and doing the Lady and the Tramp thing,” I said.
“Plant-based meatballs,” Seth reminded me, being an annoying little shit, but good-naturedly. I loved it. There weren’t any words to describe what it did to me.
“You just have to ruin all my ideas, don’t you?” My shoulder bumped into his, and I almost tipped the fries off-balance.
When we finished our food and wiped our lips with napkins, I produced the two cans of Coke and handed Seth his.
“So,” I said, cracking mine open. “What have you been up to for the last year?”
“This and that,” Seth said. “I mostly studied so I could get the scholarship here.”
“The things people do to be near me,” I mused, looking at the sky. We were quiet for a time, and I pointed to the faint dot of Venus on the northern side. “I miss the stars.”
“Remember how starry the sky used to get in July?” he asked.
“I remember you half-naked in the grass watching them,” I said. “That was incredibly distracting. Rude.”
“Sorry.” A small smile touched his eyes. “Did you go home this summer?”
“Briefly,” I said. “Spent a week there and went to Florida with the family. You?”
“Spent the whole summer there,” Seth said. “I didn’t see you.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t want to be seen.” The silence followed, and the weight of it was heavier than it should have been. “The show earned me a lot of attention. It was nice to be in the house and not have anyone bring it up.”
“See, I thought you’d thrive on the attention,” Seth said. “Like the other night.”
“Don’t judge me based on the other night,” I said. “That was an annual outlier.”
Seth finished his can of Coke and put it back inside the paper bag, then turned to face me a little better. His leg rubbed against mine in the movement, knees touching freely. “Got you something. I know it was your birthday.” He pulled out an envelope from the inside pocket. It was small and aged.
“My birthday is in November,” I said.
“Yeah,” he agreed innocently. “Last November. I never got you anything, and you were so sweet to buy me a malfunctioning device.”
I took the envelope, my fingers brushing against his.
That touch would have been gift enough. But he pulled his hand away, and I was left holding the small envelope.
It wasn’t sealed. Carefully, I opened it and pulled out a yellowed piece of paper with a faded print and an ink signature done in a fountain pen.
“Figured you could stop at a pharmacy on your way to the house.” Seth lit the flashlight on his phone to shed light on the paper, and I discovered that it was an old pharmacy prescription, dated 1856.
Tinctura Belladonnae. Dose: 5 to 10 minims. Caution: Poison
I barked a laugh so loud I almost fell off the brick edge of the vent. “Nightshade. This is just delightful.” I tucked the paper back inside the envelope. “How did you know?”
Seth laughed, watching me slip the envelope inside my jacket. “I read about it. It was used as a sedative.”
“Fair enough.”
“It was also used as an eye drop to make pupils more dilated as a beauty treatment,” Seth said.
I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry with horror. The things people did when they didn’t know any better. “Well. It’ll go well with the horse tranquilizer I take for my beauty sleep.”
“Try a double dose,” Seth said. “You’ll be twice as pretty.”
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” I said, putting a hand on his knee without thinking.
He went still.
I pulled my hand back and laughed it off. “How do you like our campus?”
“It’s good. Plenty to do around here,” Seth said.
We chatted inconsequentially for a while longer, steering clear of any subject that could have sparked another awkward moment of stillness. Yet I couldn’t keep it all down. “It’s good to see you,” I said the next time there was a silence.
“Are we getting sentimental?” Seth asked.
“If you want to,” I said. “Won’t kill us.”
“It just might, Damon,” he said.
“We’re made of stronger stuff than that.” I tipped the can and drained the last of my Coke, letting the silence go on a bit longer.
Seth nodded, looking at something interesting in his hands. I couldn’t see what it was, but it occupied Seth’s attention entirely for a few heartbeats. “It’s good to see you, too,” he said. “Really.”
“There. You survived.” I tossed the can inside the paper bag and got up.
My muscles were sore from the killer combo of gym and drills on the same day.
Things that crossed my mind had no place being said now.
I didn’t want to resurrect the ghosts of old lovers and boyfriends and dating.
And I sure as hell didn’t want to sit here determining who didn’t want to text first and why.
I knew who I was without seeing the judgment in Seth’s eyes.
I didn’t need to hear the justifications.
I already knew that I was nobody’s ideal boyfriend.
I hadn’t heard him stand up. Only when his hand touched the back of my arm did I realize he’d approached me. “All good?”
I cracked a grin and turned to him. “Better than good. Very good, I dare say.”
That made him laugh. I knew it would. “One thing I never understood,” Seth said, his hand still on my arm, though I wasn’t going to point that out. “They made you look like such a broody mystery on the show. And you played along.”
I shrugged. “That meant I didn’t need to learn any lines.”
“No way,” Seth said. “It was scripted?”
“Sometimes,” I said. “When they wanted a cool line for a teaser, they’d feed it to us before rolling the cameras.”
“And you didn’t feel like memorizing lines,” Seth said, his voice adding the unspoken word. Typical.