Page 17 of Eye Candy

In the dark, breathing heavily with my belly sticky, I thought I’d feel better. More rational. But the needy feeling hadn’t gone away. It had barely dulled.

I went back to bed, tired enough to sink into the mattress, but my mind was still churning. I was supposed to be stopping the woman from committing a crime, and here I was jacking off to her rolled-down sweatpants.

She was sexy. That was all. It wasn’t an inimitable or rarequality—there were plenty of sexy women around, and none of them were harassing my brother and risking his future.

I wondered what Fake Teddy would say if she knew I’d made myself come while thinking of her, and waited for guilt to sweep me under. But it didn’t. Because when I thought of how she’d taunted me, I knew.

She’d be thrilled.

It would be difficult to look her in the eye at Lueur on Friday given my… lapse tonight. But I would. I had to. I would shut down any inkling of intrigue or attraction I felt and focus on doing what was right—revealing her fraud to save my brother’s future.

And keeping my hand off my dick in the meantime.

CHAPTER 9

CHASE

Mom likedto say it took ten thousand hours of practice to become good at something.

She’d remind me of that when I’d come home from Dad’s, despondent because I wasn’t good at something he’d pushed me into. Like selling real estate, public speaking, or eating the cilantro his third wife put on everything.

When it came to calling my brother, I was approaching one million hours and still no closer to proficiency. Eventually I annoyed him enough to answer and we agreed to meet in the park the following day. I wanted to tell him in person what I had discovered, and he wanted to squeeze a workout in.

“What the hell, Joe?” I demanded when my brother jogged up forty-five minutes after the time we’d agreed to meet.

Joe tossed his backpack on the park bench. “Traffic.”

I looked at his wraparound earbuds and the sheen of sweat on his face, clear signs he’d run here.

“I hate when you’re late.”

Joe put one foot up on the bench and leaned over it, stretchinghis thick limbs. “Hi Chase, how are you? I’m good, thanks for asking. I’m benching 210 at the moment and might head up to the Berks next week. Oh, Teddy? Yeah, it’s wild she’s back. What’s it been, seven years since she left? I thought she’d never stop running around Europe trying to find herself. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I’m not married to her, but she really livens things up.”

I took a deep breath. “Joe, you should sit.”

He shook his head. “Gotta keep my heart rate up.” He began to jog on the spot and his hair, as thick and dark as his mom’s, bounced in its ponytail.

I’d always envied Joe for looking like Dr. Cody. I wished I looked like my mom. Instead, catching sight of myself in a mirror was like looking into one of the frames Dad used to keep on his walls of himself posing with famous clients. He and I had the same hair, the same stubborn jaw, I even had his heterochromia.

Joe was lucky. It was one thing to be haunted by a dead man, and another to feel like the specter lived under your skin.

The best thing to do was just say it. “The woman at the gallery wasn’t Teddy Bircher, Joe. We’re being scammed.”

Joe paused. “Interesting.” Then he resumed jogging as if I’d said we should go for bagels at Zucker’s. Which I might have, if I thought he’d actually come.

“And?” I prompted.

“What do you want, Dr. Holmes, a high five? I can’t believe I came uptown for this.”

“Watson is the doctor.”

He frowned. “What?”

“Sherlock is just Sherlock.”

“Well, maybe Teddy’s just Teddy.”

I sighed. “Joe, can’t you just accept that I have more information about this than you do? Come to Greta’s on Friday since you don’t believe me. Then you’ll see.”

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