Davy wasn't taking any chances. He looked at Peter, searching his eyes for answers. But Peter's expression was a lot like Shannon's—humor held in check was what came to mind. Well, he'd have to wait until later to ask Pete what was up; if, in fact, anything had changed.
"Um…." Davy wasn't sure what to say. So he left it open. He shrugged his shoulders and pasted a helpless look on his face. That would hopefully buy some time, because he sure as hell wasn't going to agree to come over with Pete tomorrow, just to have Shannon make him look dumb by saying something like, "I was just kidding, silly!" But then he also didn't want to say he'd pass, because if she was serious… well… he didn't want to discourage her either. Man, this was touchy!
Davy decided he'd wait until they got into the bedroom at the Pad, then he'd talk to Peter to get the low-down. That way there would be no interruptions. He and Peter were tight enough that Peter would never keep him guessing. Right now though, he saw an opening when Shannon turned to Peter to giggle some more, and Davy made a break for it, sprinting back to the Monkeemobile.
"Gimme some more sugar," crooned Peter. "Before I go." Shannon kissed him one more time, deeply, Peter attempting to make it even deeper, ending up with her almost having to push herself off him in order to stop the raging two-way passion. He reluctantly turned and joined Davy in the Monkeemobile. Mike saw they were ready to leave, so he pecked Gretchen on the cheek, fast as a quasar, told her he'd be by to get her at eight tomorrow, and turned on his heel, stalking off before she saw how graceless he felt.
"So, you taking Gretchen to the passion pit?" Micky asked as he drove home.
The passion pit was how they referred to the drive-in movie. "Hell, no. Not on a first date! I'm taking her to a walk-in."
"Make sure it's a romantic flick," advised Davy. "Chicks really dig that."
Mike made some kind of "harrump" sound, clamming up again and disappearing into his own thoughts.
"What're you guys doing tomorrow?" asked Micky of Davy and Peter. Cute face and dimple shot a look at each other.
"I'm going to Shannon's, and Davy's probably got a hot date," said Peter. That seemed to satisfy Micky's curiosity. "I'm gonna go to the miniature golf course and see what kind of girls are hangin' out there," Micky said.
Once they were in the bedroom, Peter and Davy had a little pow-wow.
"So, what do we do, Pete? Both just show up there? That might not go over very well."
"Yeah, I know. I've been thinking about it. I guess, I can go over alone, and if Shannon asks where you are, I can always call you."
"Good idea, Pete! That way I can save face if she was just teasing, and she won't think we're perverted or anything."
"David… we're not perverted… are we?" Peter had really had a hard time getting that out of his mouth.
"Of course we're not!" Davy looked uncomfortable all of a sudden. They hadn't even addressed their attraction for each other, just the two of them, or even admitted it to themselves, really. At least Davy hadn't. And now Shannon was involved? The thought was beyond disconcerting. So how were they going to handle Shannon wanting them over at the same time? Even though Davy was pretty sure it would only be innocent flirting. There was too much to think about.
Peter was busy trying to stem the outpouring of his own thoughts. It was all just playful, as he and Shannon had teased each other about it while Davy had been in Shannon's treehouse earlier. Neither one had said anything even close to being construed as serious. They just spoke of asking Davy over to "harass" him. Peter figured it would be harmless fun, but it also fired him up a little bit. Started those eerie tingles going again.
Davy felt his groin tighten when he thought of the way Shannon and Peter had touched his leg, and he secretly yearned for more of that. But he'd never mention it to Peter. This was something that he was leaving solely up to Peter and Shannon. If they wanted to play games, he'd play along… to a point. If they wanted to be a little more serious, well… he remembered how it hadn't bothered Peter when he'd jogged up and seen the two of them naked, on the deck that morning. Peter had just laughed when Davy had told him what he'd seen. So maybe Peter liked being watched. Well… Davy wasn't at all opposed to that. It was a helluva lot better than an x-rated movie where everything was faked. But, in the end, he almost believed that Shannon was teasing him, giving him a hard time, and pulling Peter into it too. He was also worried about going over there, thinking Peter probably wanted to be alone with Shannon. He didn't want to be a third wheel. There were plenty of girls to be had just by going out for a walk on the beach.
But the thought of going over to Shannon's with Peter kept creeping in, dominating his thoughts, tickling him, teasing him. He'd been attracted to Shannon since the first time he'd seen her. Still was, although he didn't let on. And here she'd been actually flirting with him recently! A dream come true. A classy chick who was just his type. Trouble was, she belonged to Peter. Suddenly, those girls on the beach weren't as interesting as they used to be. He was dying to find out what Shannon had in store. Was she joshing him, or did she have something specific in mind? And how would Peter feel about that?
He decided to stop talking about it with Peter for now. The vibes Peter gave out were ambiguous, exactly the way he himself felt. Peter was doubtless worried about perversion. He'd openly expressed concern about it. In any case, Davy wasn't going to tread on hazardous territory. No… let Peter and Shannon decide between them if they truly wanted him over there tomorrow night. They'd let him know. Otherwise, he was just going to kick back at the Pad and chill out. He did plan to stick close to the phone though, in case they called. If Micky were to stay home, since he was the only one without solid plans, Davy didn't want him picking it up. If the call did come, he'd just tell Micky it was a girl, and he was going to go hang out with her. Mike would definitely not be here, as he'd be on his date with Gretchen. So, he wasn't going to flip out over something that might not even present itself at all.
You couldn't really call it preening… that was something Davy did, but Mike was making sure he looked presentable for a romantic movie, all the others watching as he stood at the mirror in the living room. He almost chuckled when he saw the three of them, lined up, behind him, peering into the mirror.
Freshly shaven, his hair cooperating for once, with the help of a single spritz of hair spray that Davy used only when his hair was impossible. It tamed Mike's thick hair just enough without making it stiff and unnatural looking. Enough if there wasn't going to be a strong breeze anyway. Davy, the epitomy of fashion, always looked classy, and Mike had turned to him for advice for this most important date tonight. With Davy's guidance, Mike now wore a blue patterned Pendleton shirt and tight fitting tan corduroys and, of course, cowboy boots. Normally he was a jeans kind of guy, or a suit kind of guy, nothing in between, except for band pants, but Davy insisted cords would look fabulous on him, and Davy knew his stuff. Mike wasn't much into the popular paisley pattern, and the checkered cocoa and white Pendleton really did him justice. It had been a groovy choice. Now he was glad Davy had taken him shopping. He hated clothes shopping with a vengeance, but Davy had given him encouragement, and made it as painless as possible.
"Do I look like I'm trying to be something I'm not?" he asked the others in general.
"You never look like that, Mike," protested Peter. "You know who you are—you have ever since I first met you. Doesn't make any difference what clothes you're wearing."
"Yeah, you're Mike for God's sake!" Davy emphasized. "And that's just why you're the leader of the group. You know exactly who you are, and us others, well, we don't yet." Shockingly, the others all nodded in agreement. They all knew it was true. They still had some mental growing to do.
"I just feel all… discombobulated when I'm with her, both mentally and physically," Mike went on.
"It's just that you haven't dated for a while," Davy reminded him. "After you get to the movie and start enjoying it, things will start coming naturally, and you'll know just how to act, mate. If you run into a rough spot, and don't know what to say, just shove some popcorn in your mouth."
Peter was trying to ignore Davy, with not much success. Davy kept casting a shit-eating grin his way, and Peter, fully knowing why, threatened to smack him upside the head a few times. Davy just giggled.
"What's up?" asked Micky, curious what was causing the playful banter.
"Oh, he's just baiting me," said Davy easily." "Wants to know about my 'hot date,' as he calls it."
"Frankly, I'd like to know about it too," Micky was all ears now.
Uh-oh. Davy hadn't counted on this. "Just some hot babe I found on the beach," he answered. "I'm not going out until a little later though, you know," he added hurriedly. He wanted to be sure to be home if Peter or Shannon called.
Mike and Peter left after dinner, and it was still unclear when Micky was leaving, if he was going to at all. So Davy parked himself on the couch closest to the phone and tried to concentrate on the television, but there was no way he'd even be able to tell you what show was on. He could just as well be staring into open space. He'd been dressed and ready for almost two hours, and here he sat…
It would only take Peter a few minutes to get to Shannon's. He was walking, of course, since Mike had the Monkeemobile. When the phone didn't ring for an hour, Davy realized he'd blown this whole thing way out of proportion. Of course Shannon hadn't been serious about them both coming to her house. How dense could he possibly be?
When the phone rang fifteen minutes later, Davy almost came unglued. The rickety couch cracked in protest when he bolted upright from his slouch.
"Man, what's wrong with you?" Micky eyed Davy with interest. "It just scared me," Davy said, and jerked the receiver to his ear. It was Shannon.
"We're waiting for you…" she trailed her voice off seductively. A rush of adrenaline hit Davy like a two-ton tanker. He gulped.
"Oh, okay," he said casually, carefully putting on an act for Micky's benefit. "I'll be there in a few minutes." He hung up and forced himself to walk slowly to the mirror to comb his hair one last time.
"Was that the chick you're seeing tonight?" asked Micky.
"Yep. I'm splitting. See ya later, Mick." Davy dodged out the door before Micky could ask any more questions. Micky watched Davy go out the door, suddenly wondering how Davy was going to get to this date's house. Mike had taken the Monkeemobile, and Peter had walked to Shannon's. In fact, he should have had Mike drop him off at the miniature golf course, because it was too far for him to walk. Damn! He and Davy had both screwed up. He expected Davy back inside within a minute or so, realizing he had no wheels. But Davy didn't come back. Micky shrugged his shoulders and settled down to watch TV, no other options being available.
For one of the few times in his life, Davy was, in truth, nervous as he walked to Shannon's house. At first, he couldn't even identify the feeling. He normally handled just about any situation calmly, and being nervous before a date was just plain foreign to him. This isn't a date though. They'd been giving him a hard time-that was all. He couldn't go over there with that kind of mindset, however, because he knew they weren't trying to be unkind or make him uneasy. It was just that he didn't know what to expect. This was a first. He was attracted to both of them, one a male and one a female, and this was the kind of situation he'd never experienced before. Davy was well acquainted with sex, probably much more than he should have been, and sometimes with more than one girl at a time, but when you brought another male into the equation, the dynamic changed by leaps and bounds. Not for a moment did he expect sex to actually happen with Shannon and Peter, but he didn't know how far this teasing game of theirs was designed to go. Or if there even was a design. He made up his mind that he'd just have to appear neutral.
Bravely, he climbed the steps, reaching out to knock on the door when it swung wide. They'd been watching for him. There was Peter, his puppy-dog, happy face sporting a wide smile, and Shannon right behind him, looking the loveliest he'd ever seen her in a soft chiffon sun dress with patterns of pink, green and yellow. She was airy, soft and silky looking, her hair floating around her shoulders. She looked so cool and fresh on this hot early August evening. A very, very welcome sight. Peter wore his newest jeans, like Davy. Peter wore an orange button down shirt, and Davy wore a navy blue shirt with white polka dots.
"Come on in," said Peter with an odd twinkle in his eye. What were they planning on, playing cards? Davy almost laughed out loud at his own obtuse notion. He was handed a tall glass of iced tea, and he joined the other two on the deck facing the back of the property. The sun was getting ready to begin its descent, as it was now nearing eight-thirty. They placed their drinks on a couple of patio tables placed on each end of the glider.
"How'd things go at home before you came over?" Davy looked at Peter as if he had two heads. Only a little over an hour had elapsed since Peter had been at the Pad, so what ground breaking events could have come about in that amount of time?
"Fine. I sat next to the phone because Micky was still there," said Davy. "I didn't want him picking it up."
"Yeah, that might have been hard to explain," said Peter thoughtfully. Davy wondered if Peter had even thought much about the others at all. Peter tended to do things, and then think about consequences later. Whether it was to pet a strange dog that he knew nothing about, or eating ice cream before dinner. But Peter seemed to have a bubble of protection around him, as nothing alarming ever seemed to happen to him. Only on very rare occasions. Animals inevitably loved him, and he had such a good appetite that ice cream didn't stand a chance of spoiling his dinner. Davy did have to admit, however, that Peter had changed; had matured drastically since he'd started seeing Shannon. She was making a man out of him.
Peter had made sure he wore his Hai Karate cologne tonight, and there seemed to be an abundance of it in the air. So much so, that Shannon's eyes watered, and she coughed a few times. That was when Peter realized Davy had also used it. It had been sitting on the counter in the bathroom, Davy had picked it up, took a whiff, decided he liked it, and patted some on. So now Shannon was exposed to a double dose of it. She loved it, but it was overwhelming. It wouldn't have been overpowering on just one guy, but on two… it was a bit much. She used a wet paper towel to dab the excess off Peter and Davy. One at a time, she steadied their heads with one hand and wiped with the other. When her cool hand cradled Davy's face along his jaw, he noted how soft her hands were, how tender. He was going to get into trouble if she kept finding reasons to touch him.
"There, that's better. Just a hint of it in the air now," said Shannon, settling down between them on the glider. She had done it so naturally-just slid in there between them as if she belonged to both of them. Which she didn't, and Davy was painfully aware of that fact every single second. He had an assortment of urges at the moment. One was to put his arm around her. Another was to whisper to her, touch her sweetly, kiss her cheek. His usual seduction moves. He didn't want to dwell on other, more potent urges that flitted through his head. It all came so naturally to him when he was with a female he desired, and he had been following his instincts for so long that he had to pull himself up short and remember that Shannon was Peter's girlfriend. Even though she was sitting so closely that she was touching him. There wasn't much room on the glider for three people, and her extreme nearness ate away at Davy.
They talked about everyday things, no one referring to why Davy was there. They skirted around it, acting as if there was nothing unusual about it. As the sun went down, the sparkly balls in Shannon's house reflected off their faces, and the deck itself, touching a tree branch here and there, flickering over the ground below them , occasionally illuminating a cat sauntering around the yard. Along with the soft music on the radio, the low light, Davy felt plunged into the ideal romantic atmosphere. Peter was a lucky son-of-a-bitch, having Shannon and this seductive setting to himself several times a week. Up high in the treehouse, Davy felt as if he were living an otherwordly, enchanted existence. Honestly, he expected Tinkerbelle to fly by at any second.
Peter's arm had snaked cunningly around Shannon, his fingertips stroking, fondling, her upper arm. Davy saw it from the side of his vision. It manifested itself gently, yet seemed conspicuous to Davy, but no, he was just overly sensitive right now. Every little move either of them made caused his senses to buzz.
Peter slid his hand over the slightest bit, and his fingers, like a spider, crawled to Davy, just barely touching him on the shoulder. Davy jumped, and both Peter and Shannon laughed. "Davy, why are you so jumpy?" asked Shannon, a scalawag look twinkling bright in her eyes. They were ganging up on him again, and he toyed with the idea of leaving. If this is what his visit would consist of, he'd rather be at home and not be teased and tantalized. Because that's exactly what they were doing—tantalizing him. The laughter from them had hurt a little bit, even though that hadn't been their intent.
"I love your eyes. They're sparkling," said Shannon softly to Davy. He thought better of leaving in an instant. She was complimenting him, and Davy melted under compliments.
"It's still warm out here. Maybe we should take off our shirts?" Peter said this in the form of a question. What in the hell? Take our shirts off? How much more bizarre could this get? Davy was anything but shy about taking off his shirt, but why, all of a sudden, would Peter suggest it, seemingly out of thin air? This evening was turning into a fortuity, albeit a puzzling one.
Davy shrugged and began unbuttoning his. Following his lead, Peter did the same. A moment later, they both sat there shirtless, and Shannon couldn't pry her eyes away. The muscles, the definition, the maleness.
"You two are so different. Blond hair and fair skin… dark hair and olive skin. Pink nipples, and brown nipples."
Davy shook his head to clear the haze. He also almost spit out his iced tea. She couldn't have just said that, could she? This was off the wall! Commenting on their nipples… if he had been the slightest bit shy about being shirtless, he would have put his shirt right back on. Peter was openly blushing, so Davy knew none of this had been rehearsed. The thing was, they were all testing the waters, dipping their toes in, cautiously watching everyone else's reactions. Davy was mostly a spectator. Shannon was being the biggest risk taker, but she was allowed. She was the woman. She was, in reality, the one with all the power here.
If the other two hadn't laughed earlier when Peter had touched him, Davy would be quite comfortable. He just didn't want to be ribbed or taunted, although he'd never seen Peter do that to anyone purposely. But that didn't mean Shannon wouldn't. He'd known Peter for years; almost as well as he knew himself, really. He had only known Shannon since May. So really, she was, by far, the one he was most heedful of.
"Davy, I hope you know we're just kidding around," said Shannon, realizing how quiet Davy had become, when he was normally a lively talker.
This brought a sigh from Davy. Okay, he had to admit he believed her. Shannon would not have been able to conceal disparaging tendencies for this long. Something would have seeped through. Okay, so she was just trying to lighten the atmosphere. He hadn't taken her to be a cruel woman after he'd gotten to know her better. Quite the opposite. And he should know Peter wouldn't want anything to do with a woman who poked fun at people for pleasure.
Whenever Davy was in a difficult situation, he imagined how Mike would handle it. To himself, he called it, "pulling a Mike." And Davy knew that in this situation Mike would just sit back and see what arose. Quietly watch, and act accordingly. He'd never seen this method fail Mike—not once. The man had control in every situation, whether the other party knew it or not. He always came out ahead, and that was because he never jumped to premature conclusions. He kept his cool. People often mistook Michael's attitude for arrogance or unfriendliness, when he was, in fact, just gathering information. Sizing things up. He just took it all in until he was completely satisfied that he knew the score. That was when he'd make his move—his informed move.
Davy didn't try to decipher the meaning behind Shannon's every action, but he stayed alert to all her unconscious signals. The way she flipped her hair over her shoulder, the way her eyes moved over him furtively, lashes lowered, even the way she worded things. How she leaned ever so slightly into him, the inflections in her voice. Nothing escaped Davy's notice. Now and then, her breast brushed against his arm ever so slightly.
Whatever it was, Peter was going along with it, and his prior discussion with Peter told him that Peter didn't have any more information than he, himself did. So that meant Shannon was at the controls, and that the guys were both flying blind. But wasn't that the way it had always been? In a civilized world, and even in many uncivilized ways of life and cultures, the female, in the end, makes all of the decisions. They were at her mercy. But there were no protests heard from either Davy or Peter. They were willing to wait and see what was on her itinerary.
"Want some more iced tea? Beer?" asked Shannon, a hand laid lightly on Davy's shoulder. Another subconscious signal that females employed more than men—touch. Davy was very well versed in the intricate, finer side of the feminine nature where communication was involved. Touch was a powerful tool. It spoke volumes without the person having to utter a sound. Davy hazarded a glance in Peter's direction. Peter was meekly watching on, as interested in the proceedings as Davy was himself. There was not a trace of suspicion or jealousy anywhere in Peter's gaze.
Well then… maybe Davy had better start responding to her little game—in very subtle ways, of course. Nothing obvious, nothing distinct.
"Please, yes," he said. "But let me get it myself. Anyone else?" he asked, rising from the glider, laying a hand on Shannon's shoulder as he did so. Not pressing down on her in order to get up, but rather to indicate to her that touching was welcome and even desirable. Her slight smile told him she approved.
They each told him what they'd like to drink. As he slipped by the two of them, Peter on the far edge, Peter reached out and placed his hand on Davy's forearm, right behind his wrist, letting it glide naturally all the way to his elbow as Davy walked around him. It was like a punch to Davy's gut, but a damn good punch. By God, he felt as excited by Peter's touch as he had Shannon's! This was a significant discovery, scary, and yet wickedly naughty. The way Peter must feel when he ate ice cream before dinner. Forbidden, but so good. Not necessarily forbidden, a voice in Davy's head said. And an evil laugh followed. Davy merely smiled.
He got himself and Peter a beer, and more iced tea for Shannon. He held the beer bottles in one hand, the iced tea in the other. Shannon rose from the glider, seeking to help him by taking a beer bottle from him to place on the patio table nearest Peter.
"Hey, no sweat,"Davy said. "I can hold and shake three maracas in each hand. Two beer bottles are nothing." He was right—she'd seen him do it many times. She hesitated, realizing how pointless her gesture had been. So instead of grabbing a bottle, she rested her hand on his forearm and smiled directly into his eyes. That look and smile shouted louder than any words could have. Direct eye contact. Flirtation, pure flirtation. Davy felt the razor sharp attraction cutting right through him. He was trapped though. He was used to being able to respond. But in this case, Peter had clear seniority over him. He couldn't make any moves. He had to wait… wait, watch and wonder.
After a couple of beers each, Davy and Peter were talking, Shannon listening. Davy was mellow now, the beers having taken the edge off. Shannon laughed as they told her of some of their wild escapades. Like the stories Peter had told her in the past, she was sure it was all made up, because there was no way all of it had really happened, but they were surprisingly fluent when they told her. As if it were well rehearsed. Robbing banks, tying Peter to railroad tracks, and Davy dressing up like a girl to get a gig were added to the other wild adventures Peter had already told her about. Is this what the guys did when they weren't playing—dreaming up all these wacky experiences to entertain people?
By the time a couple of hours had gone by, Davy was literally squashed between them, but he had never been happier to be squashed. They touched him often, almost continually, in fact, and he began touching back. First it was just Shannon, but as the night became pitch black, his wild side emerged, and he began to touch Peter also. Just quick, fleeting touches, but that was all it took to encourage both Shannon and Peter.
With a jolt, Davy realized his two friends were both sexually aroused. Their eyes had that heavy lidded, almost drugged look. Disconcerted, he realized he probably looked the same way. Shannon laid her head on Davy's shoulder, and he saw how her breathing had accelerated. Felt it as her soft, yet firm breast rose and fell quickly against his upper arm. Peter's hand, strung along the top of the glider, was stroking the back of Davy's neck. Well, in truth it wasn't really stroking, but touching steadily in a rhythm; not quite fluid enough to classify it as a stroke… tentative. Shannon's hand went to Davy's hand resting just above his knee, and her finger traced circles on the back of it. Davy placed his other hand and arm on the back of the glider, sliding it over and behind Peter's arm, and began touching the back of Peter's neck.
Shannon's finger slid from Davy's hand to his forearm. She ran her finger through the dark hair, noting the pleasant contrast between it and Peter's lighter colored arm hair. Shivers raced through Davy as she did this; at the same time he luxuriated in the feel of Peter's fingers at the nape of his neck. Dual arousal. Sensory overload… and he was a willing victim.
Shannon's body, pressed close to his as her head remained on his shoulder, felt slightly quivery. The faint tremble he sensed in her let him know this was affecting her deeply. Next, she touched his belly, which was rock hard solid, causing a gasp to make his chest expand, and traced a single fingertip up to his chest, fighting the urge to get a feel of his pectoral muscles. She knew they were hard and fit, like his biceps and belly. She longed to trail her tongue over his chest, feel his breathing quicken, watch his eyes dilate. But she couldn't do that without knowing that it would be completely alright with Peter.
She was aware that Peter and Davy were touching each other. She'd seen it before she'd put her head on Davy's shoulder. This was good, making her thirsty for more. What a gargantuan turn on this was! She wanted more contact with Davy, but she was not in any way willing to hurt Peter.
"You guys are double trouble," she murmured accusingly, yet lightly.
"Yeah, well… are you guys just gonna keep playing with me, or can I play with you too?" Davy laughed rather carelessly so they wouldn't take offense at what he had made to look like an offhand joke, which was in fact, hardly a joke. It was also possible they would see his remark as deranged. Everything he said had to be carefully calculated. He had to protect himself. But he damn well wanted more contact.
Another very real concern of his was that this situation could suddenly turn ugly. Two guys competing for the same girl, in whatever capacity, could lead to strong emotions that could boil over in the blinking of an eye. And Davy had to remember he was the underdog here. Peter had a huge advantage, and Davy wouldn't blame him if he suddenly decided to exploit it. He had every right. Fierce jealousy could flare up at any moment. And even though Davy had never seen Peter be violent, there was always a first time. This woman that Peter cared so much for was certainly enough to ignite a raging possessive fire in the bass player. It was one of the most basic instincts a man ever experiences in life. Davy wasn't afraid of Peter hurting him physically though. What he was afraid of, was hurting Peter emotionally. Davy respected Peter, just as he knew Peter respected him. So without some communication, or at least a clear sign from Peter, Davy would not try to capitalize on the situation.
But the scene continued with nothing but a serene, easy feeling. For the moment, he was the center of attention, and Davy relished it. The naturalness of it amazed him. Things just seemed to flow. The glider rocked steadily, either Davy or Peter nudging the deck with a foot when it ceased its motion. Davy was the only one with any experience with this kind of instance, although even he had never been in a situation that involved two men and one woman, and he was keenly aware that the differences were striking. Despite being unversed, and having to face the unfamiliar, it was a very gentle, sweet introduction to a lovely, budding new world for all of them. It didn't feel wrong in any way. That was the part that astonished every one of them.
Davy felt a pronounced longing, a twinge of regret… that he couldn't stay here with the two of them, but that, sooner or later, he'd have to leave them, go back to the Pad and face reality again…
