Page 11 of The One Decent Thing

“Well, you’renota criminal,” he fired back. “I know that better than anyone. And you are an asshole. I mean, you were an asshole. So maybe smiling won’t help that much.”

It was my turn to stare. This had always been the Sebastian paradox, that he was so nervous and inoffensive ninety-nine percent of the time, and then hit the right button and he suddenly turned into a firecracker. I’d had a girlfriend like that for a while, and she was incredible in bed. I shook my head, trying to make that particular memory go the fuck away.

“You know I’m right,” he went on, I guess thinking the head shake was aimed at him. “But you’re not leaving tonight, Aidan. You don’t have anywhere to go, do you? Like, you would have told me. You’re leaving because you think you’re freaking me out.”

I took a deep breath, trying for some chill, but the words tumbled out before I could think it through. “Iamfreaking you out! I freaked you out so bad you lost it completely and had to take enough Xanax to turn you into a fucking zombie, dude! I can’t stay here. This is fucked up, and you know it. I need to go, now. And nothing that happens to me after tonight is your fault, you hear me? Nothing. It’s all on me. You did your due diligence, or whatever. Nothing on your conscience. Okay?”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed, his lips pressed together stubbornly, and his chin tilted up another fraction, like he was about to get kissed by someone a few inches taller than he was. This was getting weirder and weirder, especially in my own head, and I needed to get the fuck out of there.

But it was too late. Sebastian uncrossed his arms and came around the coffee table, heading right for me. If I tried to get the door open I’d have to move closer to him to turn and have the space to pull on it, so I had to stand my ground. What was I so afraid of, anyway, puny little guy like him? If he punched me he’d break his hand, not my face. Sebastian probably didn’t even know how to position his thumb to keep from snapping it in half.

That aside, I didn’t realize I’d been actuallylosingground until my shoulder blades knocked into the door with a thud.

Sebastian stopped less than a foot from me, looking up into my face with his eyes blazing. “Do you remember the night you picked me up at the bus stop?”

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

“I don’t think you remember it like I do.” Those eyes, fuck. Like stars, or something, so bright I almost couldn’t keep meeting his gaze. I didn’t know what color they were exactly, but blue didn’t seem like enough. Some special kind of blue that I’d never learned the word for. “You saved me, Aidan. I was about to make the worst mistake, like, of my life.” He swallowed hard, his throat working up and down. He added, more quietly, “Maybe thelastmistake of my life. I don’t know how bad it would’ve been. Anyway. You stopped me and took me home. You didn’t let me throw my life away.”

Sebastian reached out, his hand shaking a little, and laid it on my forearm. I’d rolled my sleeves up a little, so his skin touched mine without the barrier of a shirt in the way, and his fingers felt so soft, the skin so tender, but they dug in enough to leave a bruise. I’d touched him a bunch over the course of the day, but he hadn’t touched me. Not until now. I felt it all the way down to my toes.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said. “I’m not letting you.” His lips quirked. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight if I did.”

That was familiar. So familiar…and then it hit me. I’d said that, or something like that, to him that night when I was trying to talk some sense into him.

The last of my defenses cracked, crumbled, and washed away like they’d been hit with a tidal wave. Someone twice his size — more like my size — could’ve tried to keep me there by force, and they would’ve failed. I’d hardened up a lot in prison, and I hadn’t been an easy target even before. But this…I couldn’t fight this. He’d quoted me that night, too, only then it had been awful shit I’d said to him at school, making fun of his name and the way he looked, mocking him because hewasan easy target. Now he was using the words I’d put together when I did the one decent thing I’d probably ever done for anyone. How was I supposed to fight that?

“Are you sure? I mean, really sure?” I sounded hoarse, croaky, and needy on top of it. Like I was pleading with him, though I wasn’t even sure whether I was pleading with him to change his mind or to stay firm. “I don’t want to — fuck, Sebastian.” My voice broke.

“Stay, okay?” he said gently. “Just stop worrying about it, and sit on the couch, and I’ll order a pizza. You don’t have to go anywhere for a while. Like, I have that spare room? And I want you to.”

His hand was still on my arm, burning like a brand. “Pizza’s a step up from ramen,” I said lamely.

Sebastian tipped his head back and laughed, and it took everything in me not to grab him in a bear hug and hold on tight. Tears prickled my eyes. How long had it been since I heard anyone laugh like that? I had a vague memory of hearing him laughing, loud and bright and free, way back in high school. Not at anything I’d said or done, needless to say. And it was weird that I remembered it at all.

“Yeah, well, we’re adults now,” he said, once he got his breath back. He was still smiling, his eyes brighter and more focused. “Grown-ups get pizza. That means you’re staying, right?” he asked eagerly. I nodded. “Good.” He grinned and dropped his hand off my arm.

As he turned away, muttering something about finding his phone, I put my own hand over the spot where his had lain. The skin felt different. More alive, more real.

“I don’t like mushrooms,” I called after him, as he disappeared down the hall.

“I knew you were an asshole,” his voice floated back.

My shoulders dropped by at least an inch, and I kicked my shoes off again — and then took a second to line them up neatly under the coat hooks next to the door, guessing that Sebastian might care about shit like that, given the neatness of the rest of his house.

The thought of Sebastian nagging me about my shoes made me smile more than I had in years. My shoes lined up next to his looked like home, even if it was only temporary.

Chapter Six

Aidan

It was too quiet when I jolted awake, my whole body tensed up and on alert.

That was how I’d woken up for the last four years: instant fight or flight. Not that there had been anywhere to run, of course, but you can’t argue with your lizard brain.

My fists were clenched, my spine stiff, and I was poised to fend off an attack. I looked around me, at the orderly desk with its stack of textbooks and dragon-shaped mug full of pens, at the pale-gray walls and muted light filtering in through light-green blinds. Unless that dragon came to life —and even then, it was only a few inches tall, I could probably take the little bastard — there wasn’t much to fend off.

And it was so damn quiet I couldn’t get over it. It was possible that in his room down the hall, Sebastian was groaning and pulling a pillow over his head in annoyance at the leaf-blower in use somewhere in the neighborhood, but to me it was silent as a tomb. No clanging or shouting, no screamed insults or guards calling out orders.

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