Page 15 of Rooster

Does he want to be as far away from me as possible because he thinks that's what I want? Does he want to be able to watch me and note every single feature?

"I don't get out here often enough," he says as he sinks deeper into the water.

"I think I've been out here too long," I say, holding up my hand to indicate the shriveling of my skin. "How long have you lived in Vegas?" I ask, wanting to keep him talking. I'm genuinely interested in his response rather than just making small talk like I normally would.

"Just a couple of weeks. The night Heathen met Kaylee was our first night in town."

"How much exploring of the city have you done?"

"Me?" he asks with an easy smile and a quick chuckle. "I haven't left at all. My job keeps me behind my computer screen for the most part. The other guys have been out and about, though."

"Hmm. You're missing a ton of stuff. Vegas has a little something for everyone."

He gives me another easy smile, but he doesn't verbally respond. His hands float up, the pads gently running over the water's surface, and it takes me right back to a place my mind doesn't need to go.

I already have to find the right time to tell Twisted that I'm not interested. I should've done it earlier when he asked me to dinner, but I just don't think I'm ready to give up on the chance of having a friend even though I know the man wants more than friendship.

Fantasizing about the computer guy on the team is the very last bit of trouble I need to be getting into, so I change the subject to one that will annoy the shit out of both of us.

"Tell me about Henry."

I watch as he pulls in a deep breath, his lungs filling, and I wonder if he's going to refuse me.

"What do you want to know?"

'Where did you grow up?"

"All over. Dad was in the military."

"What place did you like the most?"

"Fort Bliss in El Paso, Texas."

"Isn't that in the desert? Do you like the heat? Vegas gets hot as hell in the summer."

"It is very desert-like," he answers, a rueful smile pulling up the corners of his mouth. "It was the first place that the juvenile authorities didn't care that my dad was a military officer. They put Henry in detention for breaking into a store and stealing handguns. It was the calmest three weeks of my life."

"Wow," I say before I can think better of it.

"Makes me sound bitter, doesn't it?"

I shake my head. "Not really. He's been causing you problems for a while, huh?"

"My entire life," he mutters, eyes dropping to the water swirling in front of him.

"That sounds miserable."

"What about you?"

"Only child, so no identical twin wreaking havoc on my life at every turn."

He lifts his eyes to mine, and I watch as he searches for something I'm not saying. I feel locked in his gaze, but when he looks away, I don't know if he found what he's looking for.

"Has he ever hurt anyone, or is he more of a petty crime and threaten sort of guy?"

He avoids my eyes completely with this question. I think I pushed him too far, and he's going to end the conversation.

I'm shocked when he answers, his head tilted as if he's flooded with old memories he wishes weren't a part of his psyche.

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