by Kaye Draper
Grey glanced at him. “Yeah,” he lied, unsure what had just happened, or if Luca had seen anything. “I’m fine, just…I’m just taking a walk.”
Luca frowned at him, then looked out at the churning sea. But he didn’t say anything else. Of course he didn’t…it was all just another hallucination. Grey let out a tired sigh. That one had felt so real. He plastered a neutral expression on his face as they headed back toward the boardwalk—and Grey’s socks and shoes. Maybe it was for the best if Luca didn’t know Grey was seeing and interacting with creatures and people who weren’t really there. He already looked crazy enough, out here wandering barefoot in the freezing weather.
But Grey wondered if it really was all in his mind. He was starting to add up all the crazy shit that’d been happening to him lately, and he wasn’t liking the answers he was coming up with.
Chapter 30
Baroque era music poured from Grey’s stereo. He lay on his bedroom floor staring at his music history book, his eyes unfocused. It was no good. He had hoped that listening to some period music as he studied would help him focus, but he couldn’t keep his mind from drifting. Vivaldi's Four Seasons was playing, and the sharp sounds of Winter only seemed to stir his emotions.
Grey sighed, tossed the book aside, and got up off the bed. He stretched, then dropped to the floor for a rapid set of push-ups, his go-to when he was upset. He counted under his breath to keep his mind busy. He had already gone for a run today—accompanied by a screeching flock of seagulls. He’d hidden in the dojo for a while, but even the flow of the kicks, blocks, and punches of his katas hadn't helped to relieve his tension.
When Grey had done about fifty push-ups and his arms felt like Jell-O, he flopped over onto his back, panting. He closed his eyes and pressed the back of his arm over his sweaty forehead. His mind wanted to return to its previous line of thought. He tried—out of sheer pig-headedness—to think of Lucifer’s next concert venue, of school, work…that creepy lady on the beach who he strongly suspected was his estranged mother. But it was no use.
His mind conjured up images of dark blue eyes like the sea, and silky black hair framing high cheekbones. When his wandering imagination returned once again to what it might feel like to cover those perfect lips with his own, he groaned in frustration. There were only so many cold showers you could take in one day. Luca is off limits, he told himself firmly. He was too important to Grey to let a little case of lust ruin their friendship. Besides, hadn’t he just vowed not to let himself be rejected again?
Grey flopped over onto his stomach and sat up. His eyes fell on the art book he’d gotten from the college library. He reached out and snagged it off his nightstand. As he flipped through the pages of fantastic illustrations, some of the tension in him unwound. They were all water-themed fantasy art. The pictures of full-breasted mermaids and sirens silhouetted in gauzy see-through robes, while beautiful, evoked nothing from him aside from an appreciation for art.
However, the watercolor of a gloriously nude sailor stranded on a rock, glistening with sea spray….
Grey tore his eyes away. God, what was he, a horny teenager? This whole lust thing was getting way out of hand. He forced himself to read the descriptions and histories of the various sea folk in the hope of distracting his deviant train of thought. It wasn’t all sex and magic; sometimes the mythical creatures were downright vicious. And God forbid if they ever felt you had wronged them. Apparently, there was no wrath equal to a siren scorned—not that anyone ever managed to say no to one anyway. Grey thought of the woman he had met on the beach and a shiver lifted through him. No. Absolutely not possible.
A rap at Grey's bedroom door startled him and he glanced up to find Luca grinning at his surprise. “I knocked at the front door,” he said, “but your music was too loud, so I let myself in.” He walked over and turned down Rameau's Tambourin, then sat down on Grey's bed, arching a dark brow at the book. “You seemed pretty engrossed, but that doesn’t look like a music book.”
Grey shrugged and turned to set the book aside, but Luca took it from him and flipped through the pages. “There’s some nice work here,” he said, still flipping. He kept his eyes on the book. This is nice.” He pointed to a sketch of a voluptuous sea nymph. “Which is your favorite?”
Grey shrugged, noncommittal. “The mermaid,” he said, not looking.
The pages whispered as Luca flipped through. “Which one?” A hint of laughter colored Luca's deep voice. There were a lot of mermaid drawings.
Grey reached over and flipped to a page at random. “That one.” He stabbed his finger at a picture of a blond with a fish tail and boobs bigger than her head.
Luca laughed. Grey glanced over to find the guitarist regarding him with a sly smile. “Really?”
Grey shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
Luca shook his head. “Oh, I don’t know…I would have thought you’d like this one better.” He flipped to the page with the man Grey had been daydreaming over earlier.
Grey gave a short laugh and punched Luca in the arm. “Shut up.”
Grey stood and stretched, needing to move. His shirt was damp from the push-ups. He pulled it over his head and dropped it in the hamper, then went to the closet for a new one. He turned with an old gray t-shirt in his hand to find Luca right behind him. His blue eyes were dark, and the smile was gone. Grey suppressed the shiver of excitement that look sent racing through him.
Luca lifted a graceful hand and traced his fingers along the side of Grey’s face, pushing a loose curl back from his temple and drawing a line along his jaw, rasping gently over the light stubble there, his expression full of sadness.
“What’s wrong?” Grey stepped back and put some space between them as pulled the shirt on, giving Luca a questioning look. Luca’s expression was serious. His eyes narrowed, and a bit of color suffused his high cheekbones.
“Nothing,” Luca said finally, as if mentally shaking himself.
Grey took the book from him and slid it onto his bookshelf, feeling shaky and uncertain. For a minute there, he’d thought Luca was about to kiss him.
But no. Of course not. The tension in the air broke like a bubble, leaving Grey feeling beyond confused.
“Wanna go get some dinner?” Luca asked, his voice even and calm.
Grey nodded and followed Luca out the door, pausing to turn off the CD, which had progressed to Bach. He was so fucking delusional.
*****
Grey’s father sighed and dropped his briefcase on the kitchen table. He glowered at Grey while he unfastened his necktie. “Music? Still? Grey, I thought you were focusing on your biology degree.”
Grey sighed. He’d just had to mention Lucifer. What had he been thinking, inviting Rick to a show? “I’m still taking my biology classes. It’s getting harder, but I’m still managing to do stuff online. But this is what I’ve always wanted to do, Dad. The only reason I even thought about changing majors was because I knew you hated me singing.”
Rick slipped his suit jacket on and regarded Grey with that expression that said more clearly than words just how disappointed he was with his son. Even though Grey was an adult, that look still made him feel about ten years old.
Grey waved away the topic of conversation. “I don’t want to argue with you about school. I’m not giving up the band. But I’m still working on finishing my degree, so chill out. I just wanted to tell you that the band is taking off.” He grinned. “We signed with Island Records a while back. I was just waiting for the right time to tell you…was waiting til we were doing well enough that you couldn’t argue with how successful we are.”
Most parents would probably think that was amazing. Maybe they’d even go all gushy about how their little so-and-so was going to be a big star. Grey’s father, however, was not impressed. “I thought you had given up on that silly line of thinking. Music is a waste of time. You’re not a girl anymore. Use your brain!”
Grey fisted his hands at his sides, his face growing hot. “Oh, so when I
was a girl I couldn’t think, but now that I’m a guy I have that capability?”
Rick shook his head, not quite ready to engage. “I just meant that you aren’t like her anymore.”
All the fight went out of Grey. “You could say her name you know. It’s Anna. Or maybe just call her mom.”
Rick double-checked the contents of his briefcase and then turned to get out some leftovers. “No. She gave up the right to titles like mom the minute she walked out on us.”
Grey was still seriously pissed at him. His dad was so stubborn and controlling, and Grey was way too old for this. But at the same time, he felt guilty. This wasn’t about Grey, not really. It was about his mother. It was about how much she had loved music, how every day had been filled with the sound of her voice as she moved about the house. And how Rick had screwed up, and the world had played a cosmic joke on them all, and they would never hear that sound again.
Grey suddenly remembered the woman from the beach, and the words were out before he even had a chance to think about it. “Is she still here?”
His father glanced around as if expecting to see her standing behind him. “What?”
Grey narrowed his eyes at his father. “She didn’t leave the island, did she?”
Grey's father simply shook his head and went back to what he was doing. “I don’t know where she is,” he said flatly. “And it doesn’t matter. She could be halfway across the world, or dead for all I care.”
The doorbell rang, and Grey went to get the door, glad for the excuse to end this stupid discussion before he did something violent. Luca stood huddled on the stoop with his guitar case slung across his back and a soft smile on his face. “Hey.”
When Grey didn’t immediately let him in, Luca gave him a curious look. He unslung the guitar. “Um…I thought maybe we could…?” He gestured lamely at the instrument, clearly wondering what he’d done to earn this lack of hospitality.
Grey sighed. “Sure, come on in.”
Rick was packing his lunch into Tupperware containers when they walked through the kitchen. He looked up, surprised, but his face almost immediately fell into a stormy expression when his eyes landed on Luca.
“Luca, this is my father and lifelong critic, Rick,” Grey said with a grand gesture. “Dad this is Luca, he’s the guitarist from the band that is the corruption and downfall of my future. We worship Satan together. So many dead goats.”
Luca held out his hand, ignoring Grey’s sarcasm and Rick’s hostile glare. “Nice to meet you.”
Grey's dad looked at the outstretched limb but didn’t take the proffered hand. His eyes met Grey’s as if Luca wasn’t even there. “I’ll be back late tonight.” After a pause he added. “I just want more for you than this, Grey.” Then he scooped up his stuff and stormed out of the house.
Grey stared at the door. God, his dad was a fucking prick.
Luca reclined against the counter, his arms crossed and a deep furrow between his brows. “Wow. I really offended him.”
Grey shook his head. “It’s not your fault. My dad is…well, he’s an absolute asshole. But he doesn’t mean to be. At least I don’t think he does.” Sometimes he wondered. “And I think he tends to forget that I’m not a damned teenager.”
Luca laughed. “He doesn’t look like the kind of guy to appreciate your choice in friends.”
Grey raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
Luca snorted self-deprecatingly and waved a hand at himself. “Piercings, ratty jeans.” He pitched his voice low, as if saying something scandalous. “Rock music.” His wide mouth twitched with suppressed laughter. “Goat sacrifices.”
“It’s not how you look.” Grey sighed. “It’s the music. He hates it. He hates anything that reminds him of my mom.”
Luca pushed away from the counter and stood there looking like he wanted to do something, like maybe comfort him the way he would if Grey was a girl. It made Grey think of the way he’d touched Grey’s cheek the other day and Grey’s gut clenched. But instead of coming closer, Luca just ran a hand through his hair and rocked up onto his toes. “I’m sorry. My mom left because of The Change too. I don’t know where she went. My dad feels terrible, like it’s his fault. And Cam’s been pissed ever since—I think it might have damaged his brain.” Grey thought he was only half joking about Cam. “This whole mess has disrupted a lot of families.”
Grey went to the fridge and got them both a soda, just for something to do. “It wasn’t that. She left him a few days before The Change.” He let out a tired breath. “I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I think he cheated on her.”
Luca took his soda and stood staring down at it, running his thumb along the top. “Oh. Wow. I’m sorry.”
Grey sighed. “Yeah. He’s all pissy, because it really is his fault that she’s not here so….”
Luca looked up, a soft expression in his dark blue eyes. “Maybe he just feels guilty. Maybe when he sees you, he feels like he’s let you down, so he takes it out on you?”
Grey stared up at him. “How do you do that?”
His blue eyes widened. “Do what?”
Grey took a sip of his soda and set it down. It was too sweet. He wasn’t in the mood for sweet. “You take one look at someone and know exactly what they’re thinking and feeling. It’s creepy.”
Luca scowled. “Well sorry for being creepy. I just watch people. I try to imagine how I would feel in their place.”
Grey looked up at him, surprised. Then he let out a sigh. “It’s just that when you hear anyone else talk about cheating spouses, they immediately side with the one who’s been wronged. I mean, don’t you think it’s terrible that he treated her that way?”
Luca shrugged. “Hearts change sometimes. And human beings do incredibly stupid things that they regret every day. Why should they be any different when it comes to sex? Besides, who really knows what kind of relationship they had to begin with. Maybe it was terrible. Maybe he felt trapped. Just because they’re your parents, you can't assume they’re perfect. No one is.”
Grey laughed. Leave it to Luca to see right through a situation and look at it in a way that most people would never think of. “You’re kind of amazing, you know?”
Luca looked startled, then turned the most enthralling shade of pink. “I just…shut up.”
Grey grinned and moved closer to circle him, getting in his space, ignoring Luca's inexplicable discomfort. Why was he so embarrassed? He sure hadn’t had any problem getting close to Grey before. Luca stood his ground and looked down at him with a stoic expression that Grey knew was all show. He wasn’t that tough.
“I didn’t know you were a philosopher,” Grey said, poking at him.
Luca squirmed sideways but kept that immovable expression on his face. “Just keep it up Grey. I’ll show you my philosophy on violence.”
Grey rolled his eyes and jabbed him harder. “Oooh, very scary.”
Luca was fast, but Grey was faster. The guitarist grabbed for Grey's arm, but only got the back of his t-shirt as Grey spun away. He yanked Grey back against his chest and wrapped a long arm around his throat. “You might be a badass, but I’m a heck of a lot bigger than you.”
Grey elbowed him lightly in the stomach, but Luca didn’t let go. “Like that makes any difference!”
Giving up on the elbow for fear of doing real damage, Grey stepped on Luca’s foot and leaned back into him, making Luca lose his balance. He expected Luca to let go of him in order to right himself. Instead, the taller guy wrapped his arms around Grey's shoulders and twisted to absorb the shock as they landed on the couch. Luca's breath puffed out and Grey squirmed around to face him. Luca wheezed with surprised laughter as Grey stared at him, the fizz of laughter, and something warmer, infusing him as well.
“How much do you weigh?” Luca grinned up at him.
Grey tried to sit up, but Luca didn’t release him immediately. He felt his face growing hot as he realized that he was sprawled on top of Luca, their legs tangled, their
faces inches apart. Luca licked his lips, and Grey’s eyes were riveted there. He released Grey suddenly and Grey sat up, looking away.
Grey tried to breath normally, tried to push away the insistent thought that rang out in his head, the possessive, need to do something stupid. The “mine” that rang through him clear as a bell. He couldn’t let Luca know what he had just been thinking. He valued their friendship and his place in Luca’s world far too much to screw it up with these twisted thoughts. Not to mention the band. Lucifer could be destroyed by something like this. Guys rough housed all the time. No need to be a weirdo about it.
Luca sat up and cleared his throat. “Uh…Grey?”
Grey braced himself, planted a bland look on his face and turned to meet Luca’s eyes. “Yeah?”
Luca studied his face with those perceptive blue eyes. Then, ever so slowly, he put his hand over Grey’s. Grey stared into those deep azure pools, his pulse thundering in his head. Luca leaned toward him, then hesitated.
And that was fucking it. Grey surged forward, crushing his lips to Luca’s, the kiss a desperate plea. Luca’s hand came up to thread through Grey’s hair, tangling in the mass of curls, and Grey let up. It was okay. He wasn’t running away. Grey hadn’t ruined everything. The desperation inside him eased, turning into something deeper and warmer.
Then Luca was pulling back. He continued to study Grey's face, but his expression was unreadable. He dropped his hand from Grey’s hair and looked away, eyes downcast. Grey’s own white-knuckled hand was fisted in the couch cushion, as if it would keep him from falling when the world turned upside down.
Luca let out a shaky breath. “Sorry.”
Grey swallowed. His throat worked, but no sound came out.
Luca stood and ran a hand through his glossy hair. “I’ve…gotta go.” He stood and backed toward the door.
Grey’s voice came out about half a register deeper than usual. “Luca? Please. I’m sorry.” He still couldn’t seem to move.
Luca gave him a sad excuse for a smile. “No big deal. Just curiosity, Right? Forget it, okay? We’ll uh…just practice some other time.” Then he scooped up his guitar case and was gone.
