Bowl Full of Cherries (7 page)

“Just being healthy,” Crowley agreed.

When Rell was done with the veritable smorgasbord of salad-y things, he grabbed a grilled cheese off the platter and hopped up on the counter to make low groans of pleasure while slowly munching on his sandwich.

“Oh,
God
, Owl. This…
cheese
is unlike anything you’ve ever tasted. It’s so hot… and savory… and gooey….”

Crowley tried to focus on dumping cherry tomatoes and grated carrots into his bowl. Rell may have thought he was joking, but the words
Oh, God, Owl…
and…
hot
… reverberated through him.

“Perfectly toasted bread. Just enough crunch to offset the cheese. It’s like… like….”

“A tactile experience in your mouth?” Crowley finished, lightly dressing his salad with a low-fat dressing he’d never tried.

“It’s like an orgasm.”

Oh shit. The sound of Rell’s voice, deep, low, seductive. He tried to remember that Averell Lang was talking about cheese. Not sex. Not grabbing hold of Crowley and pulling him hard up against him and…. Crowley forced his vocal chords to work. “Go on, Rell,” he laughed uncomfortably. “Tease the fat kid.”

Crowley startled as Rell stretched out his long legs from his spot on the counter and grabbed Crowley around the waist. He pulled him in close, a teasing grin on his face. Crowley stumbled hard into the counter, Rell’s legs wrapped around him, his hands on either side of Rell’s hips. Rell was teasing him, waving the sandwich temptingly at him to get him to take a nibble. Crowley flushed deep, his breath halting. On the one hand, he could see this wasn’t supposed to be sexy. On the other, he’d just been thinking about being grabbed and—but there was the sandwich, and Rell’s hand on his face, pressing lightly at the point where his top jaw met his bottom so that Crowley’s mouth came open.

Suddenly Crowley wasn’t twenty-two anymore.

He was fifteen.

People were laughing.

He was sobbing.

He struggled
hard
against Rell’s legs, ripping away from him and stumbling back.

“Hey, I’m sor—”

“
Don’t
do that.” Crowley grabbed onto the refrigerator, his face turned down to the ground.

“Look, man, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“I’m just… I….” He couldn’t even get the words out. Teenage Crowley fought adult Crowley for dominance. He was making an ass of himself; he could tell, just by the concerned look in Rell’s beautiful blue eyes. His mouth came open. There was too much to say, and he didn’t have a voice. Crowley fled the kitchen, running into the hallway, grabbing his bag, starting to move and stopping like a dog penned in.

He didn’t know which room was his.

Jeez. Hell. Damn.

“F
UCK
,” R
ELL
muttered, sliding down off the counter. Well, he’d botched the hell out of that, hadn’t he? He ran a hand over his face and looked at Crowley’s uneaten salad. Sometimes he was a total idiot about stuff.
Go on, tease the fat kid
. Except Crowley wasn’t
fat
and even if he had been, Rell wouldn’t have teased him about it.

Crowley was tall—almost the same height as Rell—with broad shoulders, strong arms, a well-built frame. Sure, maybe there was a little extra padding there? He definitely wasn’t a stick. Crowley Fredericks was sturdy. That was a good word for it. Sturdy, but soft. Thinking back on it, Rell could feel the muscles underneath the soft.

And he was handsome. Long curls that he pulled back from his face in a ponytail. Dark blond at the roots, fading to a lighter blond, like he got out in the sun a lot. Chocolate-brown eyes, a good smile. The freckles, the dimple. He was a good-looking guy.

Shit.

Maybe it wasn’t the sandwich. Maybe it was Rell’s legs. He hadn’t thought anything about it because he and Tyler used to pull crap like that on each other all the time. Just last year, he’d put his brother into a tight leg-lock and held on to the counter to try and keep his “prisoner” from escaping. But even if they were fast friends, he and Crowley weren’t family. Space issues and all of that.

Jesus. Rell was bound and determined to screw everything up.

With a sigh, he finished the last few bites of sandwich and wiped his hands on his jeans. He’d just walked into the dining room when Andy, Jack, and Charley trooped into the kitchen in full play mode. The boys were in jeans and Marvel superhero sweatshirts, but Charley wore her combat boots, camo leggings, plus her tutu and her tiara.

The three snuck around the table (even Andy who was the oldest) and pretended to be holding walkie-talkies in their cupped hands. He was pretty sure they had a real set out in the garage. Not that anyone could get to it just yet.

“Do you think it’s safe? Over,” Charley asked.

Jack peeked up over the table at Rell, who half-saluted him.

“Enemies over the horizon, Captain. Over.”

“Enemies?” Andy asked. “What kind?” And then, “Over.”

Jack popped up again, just so his eyes were showing. He was staring at Rell, “Mean-looking ones. Big. Ugly.”

“You forgot to say ‘over,’” Rell told him mildly, and then thought,
oh, what the hell?
He flung himself forward, swinging under the table where the kids shouted and scattered from his pawing hands. “Run!” he called after them. “Run you cowards!”

“Retreat men! Retreat!” Andy yelled into his cupped hand as he flew through the door.

“You’d better run,” Rell muttered, righting the chair Charley had knocked over. He heard smothered laughter behind him and looking up found his sister, Jes, staring at him. She had a hand on her hip.

“Enemy invaders.” He shrugged. “We get them a lot.”

“Seems that way. Is there a reason why Tyler’s friend is sitting in the hallway?”

“Yes. Probably not near as interesting as why Katie came through here with her ugly cry face on?” It was a question and an explanation rolled into one.

“Katie needs to learn not to try and compare babies,” Jes said defiantly. She put her hand on her hip. “Because I will win every single time.”

“C’mon, Jes. You have your three and yours aren’t babies anymore. This is new for her. And Hudson is pretty damn cute.”

“Sure.”

“You’ve got to let her be excited.”

“She can be excited all she wants,” Jes said mildly. “But if she’s going to say that her baby looks cuter than Jack did when he was born, I will make her ugly cry.”

“Sis, you’re….”

Jes, the oldest, was the mean one of the Lang siblings. She didn’t like anyone or anything. Katie came next and she was Miss Priss. Proper and polite. Averell was the slacker. Do nothing, go nowhere, couldn’t hold down a job. Tyler was the baby. Their little elitist, the hipster.

But they weren’t really
just
their clichés, were they?

Even though she picked at her ribs and pulled the skin off her chicken, Katie knew crass jokes, could hold her liquor, and even wrote dirty stories she published on the Internet. Jes, the tough one, was known to break down in tears when she’d reached her limit. She also gave the best encouragement and the best hugs. Tyler… well, Rell was sure there was more to Tyler, too. He just didn’t care enough to look deeper. And then there was Rell. It wasn’t that Rell didn’t
want
to do things, it was just that most of what he wanted to do didn’t involve studying. Or putting on a suit and tie. Or being tied to a set schedule.

“You still haven’t told me why Tyler’s friend is in the hall.”

“Leg-locked him.”

“Uh… huh.”

“I’ll go apologize.”

“Probably should do that.”

“Maybe you should apologize to Kat—”

“Walking away now, can’t hear you.” When she was at the door to the living room, Jes called over her shoulder, loud enough for Katie to hear, “My babies are the all-time best looking babies ever and nothing Katie ever does can compete with how awesome I am.”

“Mom! Tell Jes that Hudson is your favorite grandchild!” Katie shrieked, and then Rell heard a choking sob and his mother telling both girls to “Cool it, or else!”

Rell found Crowley sitting in the hallway near the door. He was staring at the silver and gold wreath that hung from the wall and when he saw Rell, he grinned uncomfortably.

“Hey, Owl. Look, about before, I’m sorry, I—”

“
I’m
sorry,” Crowley said quickly, standing up. “Still getting over… things I should have gotten over a long time ago. It had nothing to do with you, I promise. I’m sorry. I acted like an idiot. What a freak-out.”

“Well, as far as freak-outs go, yours was kind of mild. You didn’t even get out the front door.”

“I don’t know which room I’m staying in and… I don’t have a car and… well, once I ran, it seemed really stupid.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Crowley started to make a noise, a little “Nn” sound that pushed past his lips.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“It’s over. It’s done. It was a long time ago. I was picked on, y’know? Lots of kids are.”

“Sure.” Rell nodded. “There was this girl in middle school that used to call me the Evil Twin. She liked Tyler. I think she thought it would make him like her more, but he thought she was dumb. He stuck up for me.”

Crowley was silent.

“Look, come back to the kitchen. Eat your salad. I won’t molest you with my legs anymore.”

“It wasn’t… I mean… you can, if you want.”

“Molest you with my legs?” Rell laughed. He waggled his eyebrows. “Good to know.” Putting on his most serious face, he said, “I am sorry, though. You don’t have to eat anything you don’t want to eat.”

“I’m so hungry I could eat it at the sink. My mother would faint at the rudeness.”

“Owl, you watched me eat
on the counter
. You’re going to find out fast that we’re not exactly salad-fork-type people. Bring it up to my room, you can eat there.”

T
HERE
WAS
something weirdly exciting about having Crowley in his room. The figs he’d been promising to show off from the
Rain Queen
tabletop game sat on his dusty shelf. Crowley went right to them, a glint of pleasure in his eyes. He lifted them carefully, turning each one in the light.

Rell pointed out other items of interest, too. Things he thought a nerd of superb awesomeness would like. His imported anime collection, the rare video games he kept in a glass cabinet next to the bed, the Kirkpatrick Connection records he’d taken out of his father’s stuff after the divorce. And Crowley seemed impressed with it all. Still, it was a little weird, right? A little sixth grade, even, wanting to show off his stuff to a new friend.

He liked the way Crowley smiled when he was really pleased about something, though—shyness tussling with overly enthused. It made Rell want to bring out that smile even more.

“You’re going to sleep here,” Rell said, pulling out the lower part of his trundle bed. “Is that okay? We’ll get you new sheets and everything.”

Crowley looked up, light pink tingeing his cheeks. “I’m sleeping with you? I mean, in here? With you?”

“That’s what Mom said, ’cause the kids turned traitor and want to bunk with Tyler. But I mean, if you don’t want to maybe we can work something else out?” He wasn’t sure there
was
anywhere else and something else niggled at him. The thought that Crowley didn’t want to be roommates sort of bummed him out.

But Crowley shoved loose curls back and said, “I just didn’t want to impose on you. But it’ll be like a sleepover, won’t it?”

“Hell yes it will!” Pleased, Rell said, “So, since you’ve proven yourself the coolest guy ever, I’ll show you something….” He held out the silence for a beat too long. “
A-maz-ing!”

Rell jumped up and walked over to his shelf of collectibles and gently pushed back a couple of bobbleheads. With wild reverence, he scooped her into his cupped hands and presented the crown jewel of his collection to his new friend. For a second, there was a question mark in Crowley’s eyes and then he gasped, and Rell could see white all around those deep, chocolate irises.

“But this is…!” He started to touch the fully painted miniature of the Sun Queen and then pulled his hands back. “Resin?” Crowley asked. He tilted his head, examining the lines of the miniature who knelt with her arms raised reverently.

“
Metal
.”

The blond hair he’d pushed back slipped into his eyes, and Rell had the strangest impulse to tug gently on the curl. “I didn’t think I’d ever get a chance to see her.”

It was the most nerdtastic thing Rell had ever heard.

“Touch it,” Rell insisted and watched as Crowley lifted the figure from his cupped hands. It was a first generation Sun Queen. Not only was the figure itself long out of production, but the metal-run had been short. Even when she was fresh off the line, she was rare and expensive.

“Who painted it?”

“Me.”

“You did this?”

“Yeah.” Rell smiled. “You like it?”

“The
detail work
, it’s… it’s gorgeous!”