“How did you get the name Phoenix? We’re both named after birds. How random is that?” Reaching forward, I drained the last of my milk, which was warm, and licked some chocolate off the rim.
“I wasn’t named after the bird. My mother just had a thing for River Phoenix, and he died right before I was born.” Phoenix rolled his eyes. “Nothing like being named after a dude who OD’d on heroin and cocaine. Seems right for my mother, though.”
“It’s still a cool name,” I said truthfully. “It makes you unique.”
“Or a freak.”
“There’s that cynical thing again.”
He smiled slowly. “I’m a lost cause.”
“You’ll change your mind after you’ve watched Mamma Mia!” I lifted the remote.
“You’re really going to make me watch this?”
“Yes. ‘Dancing Queen’ will change your life. But first, we need refills.” Taking his glass and mine, I went for more milk, plus chips and salsa.
Then we watched the movie, and I didn’t resist the urge to sing along. I probably never would have done that with a guy before, but now, in grubby shorts and a T-shirt, no makeup, my hair in need of some serious shampoo, what difference did it make? So I sang the crap out of every number while Phoenix steadily munched tortilla chips.
“What did you think?” I asked him when it was over.
“I only wanted to commit suicide three times, so it was a success, I think.” He looked at me from under that lock of hair. “I admit, I was watching you more than the TV. I dig that you dig those songs.”
“Thanks.” I took the comment at face value. “You can pick the next movie.” It was after midnight, but I wasn’t tired. I had slept so much all summer, and I felt awake for the first time in two months.
He picked a drama about a mentally ill couple and it made me cry. Watching them fall in love, two lonely people in a world that didn’t understand them, was sort of the ultimate statement of optimism, and my heart both broke and felt happy for them. I expected Phoenix to make a crack or tease me, the way the usual guys I hung out with would have. But he didn’t. He just said, “I need to think about this one before we discuss.”
“It was sad,” I said, wiping my eyes.
“Yeah, but there was hope. Interesting.” He stared at a chip in his hand before tossing it back down uneaten. “I guess I should call a cab. It’s too late for you to drive me home.”
“It’s only two. I’m not even tired. I can drive you home or you can just crash here on the couch. Since no one else has moved in yet, it won’t matter.” I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want the thoughts, the guilt, to crowd back into my head. With Phoenix around, I could ignore those feelings, my personal recriminations.
“Are you sure?” He had taken off his shoes and was now almost lying on the couch and he looked totally comfortable.
I nodded. “It’s no big deal.”
“Okay, cool.” He laughed. “I don’t really have money for a cab. I was going to walk to the bus stop. Which is stupid, because the bus only runs on the hour at this time of night.”
“So why would you tell me that then?”
“Because I didn’t want to be a jerk and make you drive me back to Riley’s.”
For some reason, that touched me. The guy that old ladies shied away from at the drugstore was worried about inconveniencing me. Me. I hadn’t felt worthy of consideration lately.
“I don’t think you’re a jerk.”
“You don’t, do you?” He seemed puzzled by that. “You don’t seem scared of me either.”
“Should I be?” I eyed him directly, boldly, wanting the truth.
But he just shook his head slowly. “No. I don’t want to hurt you.”
I believed him. I also knew that he couldn’t hurt me any more than I already hurt myself.
So we stayed on the couch together, talking a little, mostly watching TV, for another three hours, until my eyelids were droopy and I finally felt ready for sleep.
“Are you okay here on the couch?” I asked him as I stood up and stretched.
“Is there another option?”
That was a loaded question, and I didn’t know the answer.
Chapter Four
Phoenix
Seeing Robin’s face freeze, I realized I shouldn’t have said it like that. I wasn’t talking about sex, but that was obviously what she heard.
It was easy to read her expressions. She wore them all on her face clearly, and what amazed me about her was everything she said seemed so honest and totally free of bullshit. The other thing I noticed was that she seemed as totally lonely as I was. I couldn’t figure out why.
“I’ll be fine on the couch,” I said. “I’ve slept in worse places, trust me.”
That eased the tension in her shoulders a little, but now the pity was back, which I hated. I didn’t want her to feel sorry for me, for my shitty childhood, or my criminal record.
“I guess so. Let me get you a blanket and a pillow.”
When she eased past me, my hand shot out before I could stop it, and I grabbed hers. “Thanks.” For the pillow. The blanket. For answering my texts. For talking to me. For the milk and the movies. I didn’t say any of those things, but I stared at her, hoping she could read it in my eyes.
“Sure.” She nodded. “It’s not a problem.”
“I got a job tonight,” I said, having no fucking clue why that popped out of my mouth, other than that I clearly wanted to impress her or at least prove I wasn’t a total loser. “I’m going to apprentice at a tattoo parlor I used to work at. Gave the owner a call and he said I can start on Monday.”
Her face softened, and her hand, so small and warm in mine, relaxed, fingers entwining with the callused ones that belonged to me. “That’s awesome,” she said, and I knew she meant it.
I also knew that I shouldn’t have stayed so long.
Because now all I wanted to do was pull her down onto my lap and taste her lips. I wanted to see how her eyes would change then, with passion or with something more.
It was dangerous but oh so fucking tempting.
That she was as chemical free as me was only the beginning of what I found amazing about her.
I hadn’t expected her to have an opinion on much of anything, but she did, and a solid one, too, every time.
I had also counted on the fact that she was a suburban college girl and I would be intimidating to her, the dude just out of jail, so it would be easy to stay disconnected. But she hadn’t been nervous, and she hadn’t been bothered by my sitting next to her. She hadn’t glanced at the clock on her phone or worried that I was going to attack her in a fit of lust or rage or both. She didn’t even ask why I was in jail in the first place.
But she wasn’t flirting either. Or just flat out going after me, the way Angel had. I had ended up dating Angel because she had decided we were going to date, and I appreciated the effort. Of course, the lesson with a girl like that was the loyalty was short-lived.
Somehow, I didn’t think Robin would be that kind of girl. The sad girl was always a loyal one. It’s why she was sad.
“I’m looking forward to it,” I said, because I was. Not only did a job mean money so I could pay my cousins back for helping me out and feeding and clothing me, but I was going to be able to draw and play around with tattooing any customers in the shop who would let me do it for free. I had worked there for just a few weeks before I’d gotten arrested, so I was seriously glad Bob, the owner, had been willing to rehire me. But why the fuck did Robin want to hear about it at five in the morning?
I let go of her hand. “Good night.” Look, don’t touch. I couldn’t afford to buy this model. I had to remember that.
“Good night, Phoenix.” For a second, she looked like she was going to say something else, but then she just went down the hall.