Page 74 of A Real Good Lie

An arm slipped around his shoulders, and Callahan was guided down a short hallway. He opened his eyes and realized he must be in Jace’s bedroom, but the space was dark. Jace hadn’t turned on a light, and Callahan was too tired to make out more than shadows.

Jace pushed Callahan down onto a soft mattress, and Callahan bent, raising his legs onto the bed and tucking himself in the fetal position. The pillow beneath his head smelled like eucalyptus and he inhaled deeply, falling quickly asleep.

* * *

He awoke sometime later, disoriented and unaware of his location. The gentle smell of Jace in his nostrils reminded him, and he eased his head back against the pillow and slowly opened his eyes.

The room was dark, and he was alone, but someone, he assumed Jace, had removed his shoes at some point, and then covered him with a thin blanket. Callahan pushed the blanket off and stretched his legs, then sat up. He dragged his tongue across the front of his teeth, regretting all the coffee he’d drank on the plane to stay awake. His breath tasted like hell, but he couldn’t do anything about it.

The door to the bedroom had been left cracked open and a soft light filtered in from the living room. Callahan padded out that way, finding Jace on the couch, propped up against the arm with his laptop open. The screen illuminated his face, highlighting the intense focus of his stare.

“This is twice you’ve slept on the couch when you should have been in bed,” Callahan said.

Jace straightened up and cleared his throat, looking quickly toward the sound of Callahan’s voice.

“I’m not sleeping,” he answered.

“What time is it?”

“Just after midnight.”

“Jesus.” Callahan scrubbed a hand down his face and then up through his hair. “I didn’t mean to sleep for that long.”

“You needed it.” Jace looked back down at his computer.

“What are you doing?”

Jace’s stare flickered up again. “Looking at the pictures I took in Mallardsville.”

“Can I see?” He took a tentative step forward.

“If you want.”

Callahan practically ran to the couch, taking a seat so close to Jace, their thighs touched. He looked down at their legs, Jace in a pair of plaid pajama pants, and he still in his suit, and the divide of their lives had never manifested itself so clearly.

“Where is this from?” Callahan asked, pointing at the screen, desperate for a distraction.

“I don’t know.” Jace laughed. “I was wandering and it looked nice.”

“What are these ones down there?” Callahan lowered his finger toward the last few pictures at the bottom of the screen in a row of thumbnails.

“Those are nothing.”

“They don’t look like nothing.”

“I shouldn’t have taken them without asking,” Jace said, swallowing audibly. “But you just looked so beautiful.”

“Show me.”

Jace dragged his thumb across the trackpad and clicked. A black and white image filled the screen and he recognized the shape of his hand, loose and relaxed around what had been a fistful of white hotel sheets.

“When did you take this?” he asked.

“That night.” Jace cleared his throat. “After we…”

“Show me the next one.”

Jace clicked the trackpad again and the picture changed, showing more sheets, this time obscuring the highest part of his thigh. His leg was pulled up, the soft material tangled around his waist. Memories flashed in his mind, and the sheer sensuality of the picture had his balls tingling in anticipation.