Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“You didn’t take my mum onto the library roof?”
“No, I did.”
I cast my eyes skyward.
“But nothing else. She wanted to do something special for her aunt’s eightieth birthday, and we set up a surprise for her.”
“Why do you always tease me?”
His grin is all charm, down to the quirk in his cheek. “Why do boys pull girls’ pigtails on the playground?”
“They’re stupid.” I stumble up the steps to the library and belatedly pull my balaclava down and shrink against the outer wall.
“I think there’s a little stupid in all of us,” Damon says, and whistles as he saunters up to the sliding doors. “What is your plan exactly?”
I slouch along the weatherboard to the glass until I’ve crab-walked in front of him. “I, um . . .” I hadn’t gotten far past the costume part of my plan. “Let’s check if any windows are left open.”
“Or . . .” Damon says, stretching his arm up to the wooden beams overhead. He pulls something down and flashes it like he’s flashing his grin. It’s a key. “We use this like everyone else?”
I pull off my itchy balaclava and sigh. “After you.”
Inside, I have to insist he doesn’t hit the lights. Sure, we’re on the outskirts of town; sure, it’s a road barely travelled. But there are crazy people who take night dips in the ocean out there. Locals who may wonder why the library is still open. Who may call the cops. Correction, cop. There’s only one. “Tai can never know I came here.”
Damon turns his phone torch on and light hits my face. “Why not?”
I blink and he pulls the beam down to my tights. I’m not convinced that’s any better. “Angle the light on the counter.”
“Why are we here, Leon?”
I round the counter, find the long matchmaking box in the cupboard and open it.
“You want a rundown on all the available gay guys?”
“Uh huh.” One after the other, I take them out and snapshot the information.
“Why not talk to Tai?”
“Again? After the show at the pub?” I’m flushing just thinking about it. “I don’t want anyone to know how embarrassingly desperate I am.”
He clears his throat.
“You already know.”
“You think you’ll have better luck next date around?”
I take a final snapshot. “I’m determined to. Okay, done. Let’s go.”
“Whoa.” He catches me by the arm on my dash towards the doors. “Not so fast.”
His hand slides down my forearm to my palm, fingers. He laces his through mine. Skin and skin, electric.
He leads me through aisles of books and opens a door onto a dark staircase. It gets darker halfway up. “Why aren’t either of us using our phone lights?”
“Shh.” He squeezes more electricity into my hand; my breathing quickens and . . . I’ll reflect on my abysmal self-control later. For now, I surrender to the intoxication of being whisked up a staircase in the dark.
We climb higher and round a corner to milkier shadows. Moonlight stretches in through a glass hatch overhead. It’s out of this hatch we climb onto a windy roof. To the west is a dark ocean rushing up against the shore; to the north some bush clad hills; east and south, a collection of speckled lights from town.
Cool air gushes over us and Damon shifts behind me, blocking the chill. He lifts my hand with his and points towards town. His chin grazes my throat, under my ear. “That’s my place, there. That gap between lights.”
I swallow, wishing it were daylight so I could have a better view. I’m unreasonably curious; I’ve caught myself a few times wandering the streets in that direction. Maybe I should just give in and take a peek. It’s not like peeking at his place will have me fantasising about what it’s like to live with him. I already know he likes to wake up at the crack of dawn to surf, and he makes coffee—or tea!—for us to share before he heads off to work, and he whips up a mean cheese toastie, and he always cleans the dishes . . .
When our fingers untangle, a ghostly tickle has me wiping mine against my tights.
Damon notices with a slight brow lift.
“You know you feel good.”
He smiles—cocky bastard—and slings himself in one of the two sun chairs. I slowly sink onto the other and lie back.
“God!”
“Right?”
The stars! All I can see is the sky. It’s like . . . like I’m swimming in the glittery night. Even the breezes rushing around us add to the sensation. It’s exhilarating. Gravity chases around my body like I might fall at any moment. Like I might need catching.
Damon points. “Is that the Southern Cross? Or is that it?”
No clue. If this is seduction by starlight, I may just give in and let him seduce.
He points some more. “The teapot?”
“Hmm?”
“What about that group?”
“The milky way?”