Page 18 of Wrath

Arnie shuts the bedroom door. His eyes search my face, and for a minute my pulse picks up, thinking he might kiss me…wondering if I should kiss him.

Instead he looks at the floor. When he looks back up, his face is guarded. "Good luck with that, Josh."

And then he's out the door. He’s walking down the hall, back toward the pool deck, like this never happened.

I'm staring after him when the bedroom door opens.

"Are you the top one or the bottom?"

I want to smash his smug face in. I’m so pissed off that my cheeks and neck are burning, but I have to play it off. He doesn’t deserve to feel gratified. I try my best to keep my voice calm, almost ridiculing. "What the fuck are you going on about now, bro?"

"What do you think?"

I rub a hand over my face, trying to cool my temper, and Ezra’s mouth bends into a smirk. "Get kissed, did you?"

"Actually I didn’t. What's your hang up with this shit? Areyougay?"

His eyes narrow, and his cold face hardens. "I already know you are, Joshie. One of the girls here was lamenting over it."

The hall shifts slightly as my throat goes too tight. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, just a girl complaining that you never looked her way. She was worried you might bat for the other team."

I want to tell him it’s none of his business. It's right there on the tip of my tongue as my body locks up and my mind goes hazy with anxiety.

"Who I bat for isn't your business,” I manage. “Unless you want it to be." I give him a fucked-up smirk of my own. "Is that it, Ezzie? Projecting what you want to be true?"

He laughs. "In your dreams, Miller. If anybody's astepbrother fucker, that'd be you. You're the one who comes from small-town Alabama."

"Don't be a bully, angel. Doesn't suit your pretty face or your weirdo fuckboy name."

Shit, that was mean. I almost recoil at my own words.

"That's pretty rich for someone named Josh. Your name's a joke, like literally."

Everybody calls me Miller. I stare at him, wondering if I'd get in trouble if I decked him on his first night in Fairplay.

"You should fuck off. This is stupid."

"You called me angel." He grins, folding his surprisingly muscular arms across his surprisingly bulky-looking chest. "What's that about?"

"I already said this back at dinner. Your name sounds like an angel, like an asshole angel."And you look like one, too.

He smiles, and my heart pounds harder.

"Why are you here?” I ask him. “Hanging out with my friends, wearing someone's borrowed swim trunks..."

"These are mine." He smiles smugly. "Your mom told me there's a pool here. Had them on under my pants."

"Fuckin' genius," I drawl.

"And your friends?” he says. “They're our friends now. We're brothers." He steps to me, putting a palm on my shoulder. "Wanna go home, bro? We could pop some popcorn. Watch a Disney movie? I got time for all the bonding with my new bro."

"Fuck off." I walk to the living room end of the hall before my temper cools and I turn back toward him. "I'm going home now. You can follow me or don't."

He chuckles as I move toward the front door.

Still, I wait for him in my car for almost ten minutes. Feeling obligated. Trying to be nice.

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