Page 10 of Adonis (Salt and Starlight #1)

Connor drove home with his window rolled down and the night air washing over him. His thoughts mulled over Sam as much as they did the merman, which Connor thought was a solid testament to the impact Sam had on him. Their interactions were never something he’d ever been able to just brush off, and that was probably always going to be the case.

Connor slowed down as he approached the turn from the main road to their driveway. The rain from the evening had turned the dirt to soft mush.

As he drove, his thoughts drifted. It felt like the merman was trying to show off his scales. And when Connor took his hand back, the merman thought he wasn’t impressed. During their first interaction at the glass, after Connor looked at his scales, he’d seemed embarrassed when he swam away. The second time, he’d been trying to get Connor to look. And they were shinier.

Had he gone and polished them?

Connor almost laughed. How bizarre.

He rubbed his palm along the steering wheel, shivering as he felt the ghost touch of those soft scales. The softness was another bizarre thing. He knew from growing up next to the sea and being around his dad’s various lab specimens—fish weren’t soft. They were smooth and slimy. And cold. The merman had been warm. Clearly, the merman was a mammal, but even the mammals that lived in the ocean weren’t warm to the touch.

Connor pulled up next to the house, parking behind Trevor’s car.

It didn’t make sense for a sea creature to hold its warmth so close to the surface. It would have the same end result as a person staying in the ocean too long—eventually, all their body heat would get leeched away, and they’d freeze. Dolphins and whales had blubber to keep warm. How did that merman manage it, in particular with his top half?

Connor opened the car door and climbed out. He wondered if he could persuade his dad to show him the studies he’d done on mer-creatures? Or maybe he would tell Connor if he asked how that worked? Getting answers from his dad was sometimes like pulling teeth, but this was something worth the annoyance.

Connor turned the front door handle and heard a click. Locked. He searched the flowerpot that always held the spare and found nothing. Trotting around to the back door, he found that locked too with no spare in sight. He returned to the front, checked more flower pots filled with soil and dead plants, and searched the hanging pots and all the obvious stones. He came up empty.

Connor groaned, trudging back to the Jeep.

After barely two minutes, the chill of the evening encroached upon him and he shivered. He turned the key and let the engine idle, blasting the heat.

A white face appeared at the glass; Connor jumped.

He glared, his nerves fizzling as he rolled down the window.

“Are you trying to scare me to death? Jesus, announce your presence next time,”

Connor said, voice biting in irritation.

Trevor’s lips twitched into an amused smile. He lowered the hand raised to knock on the glass. “I did call out,”

he said. “I guess you didn’t hear me over the radio.”

He nodded toward the house, where the front porch light had turned on without Connor noticing. “Shall we go in?”

Connor turned off the engine and exited the car. Trevor wore loose trousers and a light grey t-shirt with his feet stuffed into boots. He’d clearly just gotten out of bed. Connor was glad that his presence had been noticed and he didn’t have to spend the night sleeping in the car.

“Edith said you were staying at Ben’s house?”

Trevor questioned as they walked inside.

“I wanted to come home,”

Connor said. Lying seemed easier than explaining where he’d been. Trevor would know the trio he’d gone out on the boat with. He probably had barred them from his cafe already.

“Did you take a walk before you did?”

Trevor asked.

Connor glanced at him, but rather than fishing for the truth, Trevor was looking at his clothes. Connor’s teeth chattered from his skin being so chilled, and his clothes had dried in stiff lines, in the spots that had dried at all.

“I was out in the rain for a bit,”

Connor admitted.

“Why don’t you hop in the shower?”

Trevor suggested. “You can get warmed up that way. And from tomorrow, I’ll leave my key under the planter out the back, so you don’t get locked out again. I took the spare that had been out the front. Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,”

Connor said.

“And, also, I might pick up a new phone?”

Trevor said. He walked with Connor toward the stairs. “I didn’t notice myself, but Laurence said yours is broken?”

“It’s not broken,”

Connor said. He didn’t let Trevor see his hesitation before adding, “I don’t use it because someone leaked my number. I get dozens of messages a day telling me to go die.”

Trevor missed a step. “I’m sorry, Connor. That’s—”

“Expected?”

Connor didn’t let him finish. He didn’t want sympathy or pity, and part of him was still annoyed at Trevor for trying to be so understanding of him. Especially now that he knew about Laurence.

Trevor was looking at Connor’s profile. Connor could have pretended not to notice and let him have his private scrutiny, but he’d never been one to make things easier for the people in his life. So he looked. He turned his head to catch Trevor staring at him and met his gaze head-on.

If it had been his mom, she would have been furious. She used to yell at him for looking at her with “defiance”

and take it as evidence that there was something wrong with Connor, that he would meet her gaze when she would spout nonsense, and he wouldn’t buy into it.

No hint of anger crossed Trevor’s expression. Only a softening around his mouth as he sighed. “You’re a tough one, aren’t you? Alright, we don’t have to talk about it. But I’m ready to listen if you ever want to.”

Never going to happen, Connor thought.

“You should take a shower to warm up,”

Trevor reiterated. “And change into some fresh clothes. Are you hungry? I can warm up dinner for you.”

“I’ll sort myself out,”

Connor replied. He left Trevor downstairs and went straight to the bathroom to strip and shower. Against his cold skin, the water burned, and by the end, he was red-skinned and warm. In his room, Connor crawled into bed. He flinched as his mattress squished under his hip.

A hot water bottle warmed the centre of the bed. Connor stretched out, placing it on his stomach with a sigh. Dealing with Trevor was an experience as bizarre as the merman.

Despite his intimidating build, Trevor was soft. Soft like Laurence and Sam was.

It was so at odds with Connor and how he’d been raised that discomfort swarmed his body as the hot water bottle bathed his skin in heat. It made him anxious. He was not a person who could safely navigate soft people; his interactions with Sam proved that. His edges were too sharp to be blunted, and Connor didn’t even want them to be anything else. He wasn’t in a position where softness would serve him. Not with his mom’s glares, the world’s hate, and all his friends turning their backs on him.

Connor understood now why his mom had called him a devil child when he was younger. She wanted soft. She wanted a Trevor or a Laurence.

Instead, she’d gotten him.