Page 86 of The Sin Eater

Well, besides Damon, but he’s not really a possession. He’s my rock and my joy.

He’s also standing in front of his apartment building in jeans that wrap perfectly around his thighs and a purple hoodie. He’s ridden in Dorothy May before, and to be honest, his reaction was pretty damn similar to Anders’s. He climbs into the passenger seat and pulls me in for a kiss.

“Get a room,” Micah mock-whispers from the back seat.

Damon flips him off.

The carnival’s out at Marymoor Park again. Dorothy May has a full tank and traffic’s not too bad, so I put all eight cylinders to work as we speed down the freeway. Micah and I talk SPAM-shop—I’m nearly ready to be of some use to Geordi—while Damon and Anders talk baseball. I guess Anders played in high school or some such and he can talk about some of the more arcane nuances of the sport that I don’t quite get.

What I do understand is that Damon dedicated most of his life to it, and now he’s putting the same sort of commitment behind becoming a private investigator.

It’s so dang cool.

We pull into the same parking lot between the tennis courts and the soccer field and walk up to the same arched entryway. This time, though, there are quite a few differences. Damon’s got an arm around my shoulders, for one thing, and it’s closer to seventy degrees than forty. The person selling tickets waves at Micah and Anders like they’re old friends, and as we pass under the archway, the sun breaks through the clouds, sending out rays of amber light.

Mostly though, the whole vibe is friendly, welcoming. Our last visit had been overshadowed by secrets that have now come into the light. Damon and I stop right inside the gate and I brush a quick kiss on the side of his face.

Micah and Anders pass us by, laughing about young lovers.

Damon‘s hold on me tightens. “C’mon,” he says. “Let’s go have some fun.”