Page 63 of Penny For Your Thoughts
He didn’t respond.
We continued our surveillance in silence. The steady hum of traffic was having a soporific effect. Every time my eyelids dropped, I squirmed to wake myself up. Fuck this was boring.
As much as I loved the idea of a stakeout, it required far too much sitting still. I did my best, knowing Diem would note every wiggle and worm and use it against me in the future.
Memphis had gone quiet, so with nothing else to do, I stared at the building in question and tried not to move too much… or fall asleep.
Regardless, Diem must have sensed my struggle. The attention he was mindlessly giving Echo stopped, and he rested his hand on my knee instead, stroking gently with his thumb.
“Your dad called me this morning,” he said into the quiet, and I knew without asking that this was the thing he’d been stewing about all morning.
“Really?” I examined Diem’s face as he watched the building across the street, still seemingly far, far away. “How come?”
He worked the gum around his mouth, chewing absently as a knot appeared between his brows. “He invited me to go fishing in April. His buddy canceled.”
“Oh. Cool. That’s… good, right?” Diem looked like his execution date had been set, or he’d been drafted to go to war. “Are you going to go?”
He chewed and chewed and chewed his gum, never once meeting my eyes. Seconds ticked by. Knowing my boyfriend, the invitation made him leery. Perhaps confused. Kindness was a foreign concept for Diem. So few people in his life truly cared and loved him the way he deserved.
“I don’t know,” he muttered after a time. I could see the thousand-and-one excuses flowing through his brain. “It’s not really my thing. I’m not… It’s—”
“You should go. I think it is your thing. You just don’t know it yet. Heath has a heart of gold, D. He’s not asking out of pity. He’s seeking companionship. Friendship. You need more solid people in your life, and you would like fishing.”
“I don’t know the first thing about fishing. Besides, what the hell would we talk about? He doesn’t know me. Christ, if he did—”
“If he did, he would invite you anyway.”
Locating an old receipt, Diem discarded his gum, shaking his head. “I don’t fish.”
“It’s gross, but it’s not hard. It requires endless hours of sitting still and staring at a glassy lake, while waiting for a fish that might never show up. Conversation is optional. If you think about it, it’s much like a stakeout.”
A smirk curled the corner of Diem’s mouth. He shifted his attention from the building. “But didn’t you say you hated fishing?”
“I did, and I do. I suck at it. It’s sooo boring.”
“And yet youluvstakeouts.”
“Now, hang on. Before you point out the contradiction, I want to emphasize that there is an important difference between stakeouts and fishing. First off, a stakeout doesn’t require gutting and filleting a big catch when he shows up, and there are no mosquitoes or leeches or buzzing flies inside the Jeep. We are protected from the elements. See? Stakeouts are way better.”
Humor danced in Diem’s eyes. “Yet they both involve long stretches of inactivity, minimal conversation, and staring at a point of interest until your eyes cross.”
“All true, but fishing is dreadfully boring, and stakeouts are way more badass, possibly resulting in fun interrogations and threats.”
“I’m convinced you could argue your way out of a life sentence.”
“Baby, if the mere idea of law school didn’t put me in a coma, I might have studied to become a lawyer. Arguing is my specialty.”
“You wouldn’t have survived all those lectures.”
“And the reading. My god. So. Much. Reading. We’re veering way off track. The point is, I doubt Heath would expect you to share your whole life story. He won’t care if you sit and say nothing. He’s not like that. If you wanted to enjoy peace and quiet, he would be grateful simply to have your company.”
“He wants to bond.”
“Yes, he does.”
“I don’t bond.”
“You bonded with me.”
