Page 20 of Psycho
He needed to stop this line of thought immediately. He had a job to do. He finished his muffin in two bites, put his shields back up, and downed his coffee in one go, clicking the remote to the overhead projector. “Okay, let's get started. Who read the chapter on aggression and violent behavior?”
* * *
Once morning classes ended, Lucas went back to his office, unsure whether August would make good on his lunch offer but knowing he had other things he needed to focus on. Like Kohn. He sat at his desk and pulled up the missing persons database, scrolling through an endless sea of faces. It was like looking for a needle in a stack of needles, searching for one face in a sea of thousands, and there was a good chance the needle wasn’t there at all.
Lucas wasn’t sure how long he sat there before knuckles rapped against his door, which swung open before he could issue an invitation. August. Lucas’s heart began to thud hard behind his ribs at the sight of him. Had any man ever made Lucas’s pulse flutter before?
He held up two bags. The smell of the food hit Lucas hard, making his stomach growl.
“I hope you like Chinese,” August said in lieu of a greeting.
“I do,” Lucas confirmed. “You know, most people wait for a person to invite them in before they just barge in.”
August gave him a sheepish look. “I didn’t want to give you the chance to think about it for too long.”
August’s honesty was annoyingly endearing. He gestured towards the worn leather sofa against the wall, and Lucas nodded in agreement. Once they were seated on opposite sides of the small couch, August set the bags between them and handed Lucas chopsticks. “There’s also a fork in the bag just in case you don’t know how to use them.”
It was said almost like a challenge, a wide grin spreading across his face before faltering and dying completely. Lucas split the cheap wooden utensils, rubbing them together as he contemplated August’s sudden lack of expression.
“Are you okay?” Lucas asked.
August’s eyes darted to his. “Yes. Why?”
Lucas grabbed the container of beef and broccoli.“Because you went from grinning like the Joker to looking like I kicked your puppy in the span of about fifteen seconds. It was a little disconcerting.”
August shrugged, gaze shifting to somewhere over Lucas’s shoulder. “My brother’s boyfriend said my smile freaks people out. I don’t want to freak you out.”
August’s admission made Lucas’s heartbeat fall off rhythm.
“I like your smile.”
“You don’t think I smile at the wrong things?”
“No. I one hundred percent think you smile at the wrong things. But I find it strangely charming.”
“Oh,” August said, as if he was chewing over that answer.
After that, they ate in relative silence, swapping containers and making occasional small talk. When they were finished, August asked, “Did you get my message?” Lucas frowned. Message? He reached for his phone. August reached out and touched his hand. “No, not that one. The one on your cup.”
Lucas snickered, doing his best to ignore the heat of August’s fingers still gripping his fingers. “About my ass? Yes. I also know it was Cricket who liked my ass, not you.”
August shook his head, voice earnest. “Cricket isn’t the only one who likes your ass. I like it very much. I like it so much I’d like to take it out to dinner, but you keep saying no. But that’s not what I meant. I… Did you pick up any thoughts when you touched the cup?”
Understanding dawned. “Are you saying you deliberately left impressions on my cup hoping I’d snoop around in your head?”
August grinned. “Yes. It seemed a shame to waste an opportunity. It was just an experiment. I figured if you can pick up thoughts and feelings from objects, then, it stands to reason, I can leave those impressions there for you to find.”
Lucas could feel color creeping up his neck to his face. “You left those thoughts…deliberately?”
August nodded. “I wanted you to see I was trying.”
“Trying?” Lucas echoed.
“Yeah, to romance you.”
Lucas’s eyes widened. The things he saw…had nothing to do with romantic gestures. Well, maybe in the loosest sense of the words. Supplication could be seen as romantic, but Lucas didn’t think that was what he meant. He leaned in close. “What exactly is it you tried to show me?”
“The coffee shop conversation.”
