Page 64 of Down Beat
“What?” I say with a laugh. “You could still be either. That doesn’t answer the question.”
He grins. “I sleep completely in the buff, kitty.”
Lord have mercy. That glimpse just ramped itself up the hotness stakes times one hundred.
“How the fuck did our conversation go from spilled milk to this?” I muse.
He shrugs one shoulder. “Dunno. But I’m not complaining.”
Neither. But that doesn’t appease the icky feeling in my gut that says this has only got one way to go: south. Nothing wholesome or worthwhile can come from what we’re doing.
His eyes hood a little as he seems to wait on me to speak next. I slouch a little against the headboard and decide to run with honesty as the best option. “Why me?” My mother always taught me to let people know where they stand with you—I’m not about to go changing that now, just because he’s famous.
“How do you mean?” Rey frowns, tossing his free arm over his head.
I pause to read the script along his forearm. Everyone is a moon.
“Kitty?”
I snap my attention back to his face. “Sorry.”
“I asked why you said ‘why me?’” His hand flexes, drawing my focus back to the quote.
It’s weird. I want to know what it means, its significance.
“I, um.” I frown, thrown by the ink. “You could pick anyone, Rey,” I explain, my focus slowly seeping back over to my original interest. “So why chat to me?”
“Am I bothering you?” His entire mood shifts, so noticeably that I swear I feel the chill inmy room.
“No.” I set the phone against my bent legs and tuck my arms under the blanket. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me.” I had a father who lied to me for most of my childhood—I know bullshit when I hear it.
His hand flexes again, drawing my focus back to the gothic script.
“If you’re going to pretend that nothing is wrong, then at least humor me and tell me what that means.” I nod toward the top of the screen.
He seems to take a moment to realize what I gesture to before he slowly brings his arm down and appears to read the words. “Everyone is a moon?”
“Yeah. What does that mean?”
“Kitty…” His lips kick up, his mood doing a complete one-eighty. “Does this mean I’m more cultured than you?”
Ugh. I roll my eyes. “For this moment, let’s say yes.”
He chuckles. “It’s a Mark Twain quote.”
“You read Mark Twain?” I lift one eyebrow.
He smiles sheepishly. “Nope. But I know some of his words. That’s cultured enough, right?”
His laugh is infectious, yet not quite enough to make me forget the deeply disturbed Rey that peeked out from behind this mask mere seconds ago.
“The whole quote goes ‘Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.’”
My gut bottoms out. There it is: the reason for that shift in mood. “Why does that mean so much to you?” I ask carefully.