Page 26 of Declan

Brysen was hovering over me on the bed, creepily smiling like the weirdo he was. His upper lip was tucked back and he looked like a rabid beaver. His eyes were crossed, too. He did that shit all the time.

“Dude, get off!”

He laughed a high-pitched laugh and fell onto the floor.

“See, this is why I should lock my bedroom door at night,” I said, putting a hand over my frantically beating heart.

Brysen crawled back onto the bed and lay beside me. “You’d miss my morning wake-up calls.”

“Why are you up before me?” I asked, draping an arm over my eyes. The sun coming in through the window was too bright.

“Haven’t slept yet,” he answered, snuggling against my side.

“Still having trouble sleeping?”

Brysen had trouble focusing sometimes. He tended to jump from one thing to another super-fast, and his mind went ninety-to-nothing. It made it hard for him to sleep. It’s one reason why he didn’t mind working the night-shift. When hedidsleep, though, he slept late into the day.

“Kind of,” he answered, tucking his head into the crook of my neck. “The hot daddy I banged after my shift had some to do with that, too.”

I removed the arm from my face and opened my eyes, staring up at the ceiling fan. “Did you shower? Or are you for real laying on me with daddy jizz all over you?”

Brysen snickered and hopped off the bed. “That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?”

I cringed, not liking the odds.

“Daddy jizz is the best jizz!” Brysen shouted as he ran through the apartment.

I bet our neighbors loved that one. Sometimes I wondered if I should send them a fruit basket or some shit as an apology for the slutty hyper-active twink I called my best friend.

My phone rang, and I didn’t recognize the number.

“Hello?”

“So, about that dinner,” a familiar voice said. “What do you recommend?”

I sat up in bed, wide-eyed. Pretty sure I was going crazy because that couldnotbe who I thought it was.

“D-Declan?” I asked, suddenly wide awake.

“Did I wake you? Shit, I’m sorry.”

“No! It’s fine. I’m up.” Dammit, up in more ways than one. “H-How did you get my number?”

“It was on the form you filled out.”

“Why did youwantmy number?”

I had to be dreaming.

There was a pause. “I don’t know.” But it sounded like he’d said it more to himself.

“You’re really talking to me right now?”

“Yeah.” The light laugh that accompanied the word made me harden even more. “I have the day off and thought it’d be nice to see Addersfield. More than just the places I’ve filmed. You’re really the only local I know, but if you’re too busy, I under—”

“I’m not busy!” I interjected. Well, more like shouted. Yikes. “I’d love to show you around!”

Why the hell am I yelling? And did I really just squeak?