Detained

“You heard enough. That’s the heart of it.”

“That was the beginning of it. Show me where it happened.”

“I’d rather feed you.” He stood. “Do you like being this skinny?”

“You’d rather avoid me. And it’s virtually in my contract.”

He looked around for his jeans, handed Darcy his old flanny. “I don’t see me getting away with much avoidance. And that’s a crappy job condition.”

“Hey. I had to work hard to get that much attention from you. And I agree with you about the condition. Who’d have guessed being skinny would be a key factor in how well I can read a script?”

He shook his head at her sarcasm, what a piece of madness. He stretched a hand down to help her stand. “I’m not sure which one of these conversations I’m enjoying least, my avoidance or the insanity of your industry.”

She came easily into his arms and he tried to smooth her hair back; it was tossed and knotted, sweaty and wild. He wanted to shower with her and wash it for her, comb the tangles out. He’d never wanted to do that for any woman. It was unsettling.

“You need to talk to me, or if not me, someone you trust, Will.”

She was right, of course she was. “I’m going to feed you.” He couldn’t find his jeans. He nabbed a towel out of the bathroom and skirted it around his waist then went across to the fridge and opened it.

“Because that will make it all better?”

He sighed against her sarcasm, leaned in to look at Bo’s food parcels. “Stop giving me a hard time. I need to work up to it.”

“You’ve had fifteen years to work up to it.”

He straightened up, “Fuck you,” but he said it on a laugh. It was funny, ironic even, and she knew it.

She grinned and shook her head. “You think you’re so smart, Will Parker. You’re named after the only cartoon character in the pantheon of superheroes who had real-life problems that weren’t about catching the next bad guy. Spidey had to work for a living. He had trouble paying the rent. He had a terrible identity problem; an inferiority complex. He was antisocial, scared of women and accident prone.”

“Exactly Pete’s reasoning. He didn’t know about Miss Fredrick at the time. And you forgot Spidey’s arch nemesis and worst enemy was Norman Osborn.” Will shut the fridge door, took up his post leaning on the bench; this time he didn’t need the cheap laminate to hold onto to stop from walking away. “Spidey was an orphan too.”

“Spidey’s sole motivation was guilt.”

“And your point is, Lois?”

“You and Spidey are a little too similar.”

“Spidey and every teenage boy are similar. That’s what makes him so popular; he’s easy to identify with.”

She crossed her legs and folded her arms. He’d always liked that shirt and now it had been used to such dramatic effect, and was currently doing nothing to disguise acres of smooth thigh, he liked it even more.

“Do you practice being so glib or does it come naturally?”

He considered: winding her up. He tapped a finger on his new nose. “Hmm, it’s an innate skill.”

“I’m not saying you were the only two boys on the planet to identify with Spiderman but Will, you have to admit the guilt thing, that’s why you’re here. You think it’s sheer luck you didn’t kill Feng Kee because you believe you’re responsible for Norman’s death.”

“How about chicken and vegetables? I know how to microwave rice.”

“William Brown!”

God she was pushing it. Wonderful, painful, clever, irritating woman. He threw up a hand. “And you wonder why I preferred mistresses.” He turned away to get the chicken. When he closed the fridge door she was standing behind him.

She ran a finger over his shoulder blade, tracing his tattoo. “Why this tree? Why this creek? Why this scene forever on your skin?”

He shifted his weight slightly pressing into her hand as she flattened it over his spine. “For memory.”

“I think you did it as punishment.” She moved into him and rested her face on his back, her hair tickled.