Playing (Inked Hearts 2)

"No. What is it you always call me?"

"Aloof."

"I'm aloof because I don't want anyone to know my weaknesses. I don't want anyone to know what hurts me." His expression gets intense.

"But your songs. You're confessing to the whole world."

"Yeah."

"What's the difference?"

"I'm in control. I'm the one on stage, commanding attention, making girls scream." His eyes meet mine. He runs his fingertips up and down my back. "Most people don't listen closely to the words. They don't see what's right in front of their faces."

I lean into his touch. It's difficult to concentrate what with his hands being on my naked body. But I can tell this is important. This really is a secret.

I stare back. "I did. I listened to that song a thousand times. That guy who was singing. He was my closest friend. He was the only person who knew where I hurt."

"I still know where you hurt."

"But I don't… it's not equal."

"You do." He takes a step backwards. "You know more than anybody else does."

He sits on the bed, his eyes filling with a look I can't place. It's sad but there's more to it than that. Nostalgia, maybe.

This was his uncle's place. It must mean a lot to him.

"This house seems untouched," I say.

"Don't come here by myself. It feels empty without Damon. Feels quiet without his laugh."

I scan the bookshelf. It's up to date. It has three Star Wars books that came out over the summer. So he is here sometimes. Once at least.

"Do you have a favorite?" I nod to the books.

"No."

"Do you like other sci-fi or just Star Wars?"

"Mostly Star Wars. And Futurama."

My eyes find his. "Did you ever play Podracer or Rogue Squadron?"

Now, he's looking at me like I'm the nerd. "Never had the chance."

"You know what this means?"

He smiles. "What?"

"We're watching Star Wars."

"Which one?"

"All of them."

"You'll be here until four a.m."

"Do you have something better to do?"