Page 27 of Dangerous Pursuit
"I figured. Which is exactly why I won't tell you."
I chuckle. Somehowthatdoesn't surprise me.
The night is unusually warm, a soft breeze providing waves of pleasantly fresh air, and the traffic is minimal as we turn one corner, then another, and another.
The first corner is wordless. The second, mute. By the third, we're bordering on awkward. And I can't say that surprises me either—I haven't been dating for years now, so my game is non-existent, but even if that weren't the case, what do we even have in common, anyway?
Finally, the silence is too much even for me. "So, what do you do for a living?"
He turns to look at me, head tilted down, eyebrow raised. "Really?"
"Okay, then. What do you study?"
Nothing.
"Hobbies? Pets? Ex-wives?"
That at least earns me a chuckle. "And what am I applying for, exactly? If it's a job position, the personal inquiries are inappropriate. Unless it's some other type of position."
I don't let the sudden heat radiating from his eyes faze me. "C'mon now. Even Enigma got cracked. You can't be that hard." And before he can spin the last part—and by the way his face lights up, it's clear he's about to—I add, "At least tell me what it is that you train. You promised me that much."
"Well, actually, that's where we're going."
I scrunch my forehead and shoot him a questioning glance.
Xander shrugs. "Why would I tell you if I can show you? Immersion and all that."
I sigh and go back to looking ahead. Partly because the conversation is clearly going nowhere, partly to figure out whereweare going.
Resigned, I brace myself for another stretch of silence, but Xander cuts it before it can settle. "Why are you so uptight, anyway?" My head snaps up and I'm ready to argue, but Xander continues, "Okay, then. Rigid. Tense. Proper. Can we just, I don't know—" he lifts both his arms, palms up and closes his eyes, tilting his head up like he's sunbathing in the moonlight, "—befor a while?"
I take him in, the image he makes, with his skin almost luminous in the dark, accentuating his features, his sure, but sluggish stride, confident, but not cocky posture and that halo around his head. Maybe. Maybe I could just be for a moment or two, but I find myself glancing under his feet every few seconds, making sure he doesn't trip and fall, walking with his eyes closed. Yeah, maybe I am a little tense and rigid.
"I can hear you think," he calls me out without looking at me.
I chuckle. "Yeah? What am I thinking about?"
He drops his pose and walks normally now, pointing to another turn we're apparently going to take. "I don't know. Bouncery things?" I laugh. "Okay. Music then." He makes a show of sizing me up and down. "You look like you're a musical soul. Let me guess. Techno? EDM?"
"Techno? Really? And here I thought you could read thoughts."
"I'm not a magician. Give me a clue. Favorite band?"
"Ducking Quacks."
Xander's step falters and he shoots me aThe Fuck? look, the one that makes everyone look silly. Everyone except Xander. "Whating whats?"
I chuckle. "They're local. Trash metal. You wouldn't like them."
He looks up at the night sky for a second, pondering. Then, he says, "No, I think I can dig it. Itotallyknow what trash metal is. It's…loud and stuff. We can go to a concert. Yeah, we're going to a concert," he agrees with himself. "When are they playing?"
His enthusiasm doesn't fail to crack me up, and once again I'm reminded how extremely different we are. And how there's a part of me buried deep inside that envies it. I turn to look into his eyes for a few beats, and he lets me. "Exactly how old are you, Xander?"
He wrinkles his nose. "Does it matter?"
I pause for a beat, figuring out the answer. "No. It doesn't. But I'm still curious."
"Well, in that case, twenty-two."
