you, I gotta give it up. I gotta give it up, you gotta give it up, okay?”
Casey blinked. Were adults ever that honest? Well, he hadn’t really been that excited about inhaling the nasty stuff anyway. It had made Dillon smile at him pretty, and that had been fun, but otherwise? Their aborted make-out session had been way better.
“Yeah. Fine. Whatever”—and he had to laugh when Joe wrinkled his nose.
“God, cursing used to be honest, you know? When did ‘whatever’ come to mean ‘fuck you’?”
“You know, for a guy with a ponytail and a soul patch, you sound an awful lot like my grandmother.”
“You know, for a kid who weighs ninety-eight pounds soaking wet, you sure got a mouth on you.”
“Yeah, wanna know what I can do with it?”
Joe grimaced again. “Kid? You know what? I’m going in there, and I’m going to eat pizza and congratulate all my friends on a job well done. I’m going to have a beer, and I’m going to hope that maybe Sharon Rosenthal, the pretty girl with the long, blonde hair—”
“The one with the sweater that could fit me?”
“You should be so well-endowed. Yeah, her. I’m going to go make out with her. She might even spend the night. If that happens, you’re going to sleep in my guest bedroom, do your English packet in the morning, and make plans to become a truly outstanding human being—in two or so years, okay?”
Casey shook his head, at a loss. “You know, I don’t think I’ve met another human being so opposed to a blowjob before.”
Joe rolled his eyes. “That’s because you haven’t offered one to the male half of the people in that room. And you’re not going to. You go to school, find the other sixteen-year-old boys, and score all the tail you can manage. But you hit on me too hard and I’m going to knock you into the nearest foster home, you hear me? I don’t do that. And as far as I remember, you must have said sixty thousand times that you didn’t want to do that either!”
With that unexpected flare of temper, Joe slammed down the broom and went stalking into the house, and Casey watched him through the living room window as he slid his arm around Sharon Rosenthal’s slender waist and took a piece of pizza from her. He was looking at her like she held the answer to his prayers, and she leaned her head on his shoulder like he was everything she’d ever wanted.
Casey nursed a sudden ache in his heart.
“That’s because I didn’t know you yet,” he said quietly, even though Joe was in his living room and well on the way to getting laid. “I was stupid. If I’d known you, I would have made you love me first.”
But Joe didn’t hear him, and eventually Casey had to go inside. He stayed in the living room for a while and talked to the people he’d worked with all day. They were decent people—hardworking, hard-drinking people, but not all obsessed with their tax portfolios like his parents’ friends. They told raunchy jokes and talked about cars and going to motorcycle races and rock concerts, and Casey liked them. But Joe’s arm never left Sharon’s waist, and she didn’t waste any opportunities to kiss his cheek or lean on his shoulder. She’d been kind to Casey as they were working, asking his opinion on what to do with things and generally acknowledging that Casey had been there on the project when she had not, and Casey had started out liking her very much.
She looked up at him from Joe’s shoulder, smiling, and then looked surprised at something, and that was when he realized that he was glaring at a perfectly nice woman who hadn’t done anything to Casey but… but….
But horn in on a man he wasn’t old enough for.
That was when Casey cut out to his own room. The party was winding down anyway, dwindling to a few people who liked to play card games around the table, and normally, Casey would have been all over that (he’d loved doing it at his mom’s parents’ house, when they’d still been alive), but not
Casey blinked. Were adults ever that honest? Well, he hadn’t really been that excited about inhaling the nasty stuff anyway. It had made Dillon smile at him pretty, and that had been fun, but otherwise? Their aborted make-out session had been way better.
“Yeah. Fine. Whatever”—and he had to laugh when Joe wrinkled his nose.
“God, cursing used to be honest, you know? When did ‘whatever’ come to mean ‘fuck you’?”
“You know, for a guy with a ponytail and a soul patch, you sound an awful lot like my grandmother.”
“You know, for a kid who weighs ninety-eight pounds soaking wet, you sure got a mouth on you.”
“Yeah, wanna know what I can do with it?”
Joe grimaced again. “Kid? You know what? I’m going in there, and I’m going to eat pizza and congratulate all my friends on a job well done. I’m going to have a beer, and I’m going to hope that maybe Sharon Rosenthal, the pretty girl with the long, blonde hair—”
“The one with the sweater that could fit me?”
“You should be so well-endowed. Yeah, her. I’m going to go make out with her. She might even spend the night. If that happens, you’re going to sleep in my guest bedroom, do your English packet in the morning, and make plans to become a truly outstanding human being—in two or so years, okay?”
Casey shook his head, at a loss. “You know, I don’t think I’ve met another human being so opposed to a blowjob before.”
Joe rolled his eyes. “That’s because you haven’t offered one to the male half of the people in that room. And you’re not going to. You go to school, find the other sixteen-year-old boys, and score all the tail you can manage. But you hit on me too hard and I’m going to knock you into the nearest foster home, you hear me? I don’t do that. And as far as I remember, you must have said sixty thousand times that you didn’t want to do that either!”
With that unexpected flare of temper, Joe slammed down the broom and went stalking into the house, and Casey watched him through the living room window as he slid his arm around Sharon Rosenthal’s slender waist and took a piece of pizza from her. He was looking at her like she held the answer to his prayers, and she leaned her head on his shoulder like he was everything she’d ever wanted.
Casey nursed a sudden ache in his heart.
“That’s because I didn’t know you yet,” he said quietly, even though Joe was in his living room and well on the way to getting laid. “I was stupid. If I’d known you, I would have made you love me first.”
But Joe didn’t hear him, and eventually Casey had to go inside. He stayed in the living room for a while and talked to the people he’d worked with all day. They were decent people—hardworking, hard-drinking people, but not all obsessed with their tax portfolios like his parents’ friends. They told raunchy jokes and talked about cars and going to motorcycle races and rock concerts, and Casey liked them. But Joe’s arm never left Sharon’s waist, and she didn’t waste any opportunities to kiss his cheek or lean on his shoulder. She’d been kind to Casey as they were working, asking his opinion on what to do with things and generally acknowledging that Casey had been there on the project when she had not, and Casey had started out liking her very much.
She looked up at him from Joe’s shoulder, smiling, and then looked surprised at something, and that was when he realized that he was glaring at a perfectly nice woman who hadn’t done anything to Casey but… but….
But horn in on a man he wasn’t old enough for.
That was when Casey cut out to his own room. The party was winding down anyway, dwindling to a few people who liked to play card games around the table, and normally, Casey would have been all over that (he’d loved doing it at his mom’s parents’ house, when they’d still been alive), but not
Similar Books
Behind the Yellow Tape: On the Road With Some of America's Hardest Working Crime Scene Investigators
Jarrett Hallcox, Amy Welch
