Misjudgments

Dawn was gently lighting the room when I awoke with my head in a sedated haze. It wasn't a hangover but a hard week's worth of exhaustion. I was lying on one side of my double bed with a sheet over me, and I had slept in my underwear as I always did. Everything seemed perfectly normal except there was some annoying sound, quiet as a whisper, repeating somewhere near my ears. I woke a little more to realize that it was the sound of soft breathing. I opened my eyes and rolled over.

"Jesus!" I jumped up like I'd been poked with an electric cattle prod.

Ace murmured. He was lying on his stomach, looking too comfortable with both arms and his head stuffed under the pillow. The sheet was riding around his waist, and I could see he was still wearing his jeans, but his flawless, sun-kissed back was bare and splayed out before me. My eyes drifted from the small dimples just inside his lower hips, over the muscles on either side of his spine and all the way up to his broad shoulders. I wanted to run my hands over his smooth skin.

"What the hell are you doing in my bed?" I snatched the pillow he was using and whacked him across the back of the head with it.

"Sleeping." He snatched the pillow back off me and buried himself under it again.

"This wasn't part of the deal."

"I was too fucked to drive home last night."

"You could've slept in the spare room."

"It's taken."

"By who?" I said, wide-eyed.

He didn't reply.

"You could have slept on the sofa."

"It's taken."

"The floor then!"

"Taken."

I rolled my eyes at him and lay back down in a huff. "What time did you get to bed last night?"

"Around five..."

"Well, don't think you're gonna be sleeping here all day."

"What's the time?"

I looked over at the clock on my bedside dresser. "It's eight."

Ace yawned as he sat up and then swiped his T-shirt and his jacket off the floor before groggily trudging out the bedroom door.

"Eyeball," he called, banging hard on the door of the spare room before pushing it open. "Get your lazy ass outta bed. Let's go."

After a few resistant groans, Eyeball stumbled out of the room shirtless, and I let my eyes linger until his pulled his shirt over his head. "Good night huh?" he mumbled to Ace, looking half-asleep as they wandered down the hallway, out to the living room. "Always a good night when it ends in a lay."

Oh... no... he didn't think we... Oh God, no...

I rolled off the bed and pulled on the nearest clothing to my reach before high-tailing it out to the living room. I was about to set Eyeball straight, but he and Ace were busy waking up the rest of the guys. The lot of them were sprawled across the room - the sofa, the armchairs and the floor. Ace wasn't kidding about that.

"Billy," Ace said, flicking his ear with his fingers and startling him awake. "We're leaving. Move it."

I gazed around, expecting the house to look like a tornado had hit a landfill, but the place was pristine clean. There wasn't one alcohol can or bottle to be seen, and later I noticed that even the bathroom was sparkling and misty-fresh. Even Violet's expensive shot-glasses were all accounted for and had been put away in their little box. I couldn't believe it.

The guys rose to their feet as sorry-looking things, all hunched over with their eyes bloodshot and bleary.

"Does anyone want coffee?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'll-" Eyeball started, but Ace cut him off.

"We're getting outta your way," he said. "Come on boys."

As they all filed out the door, I grabbed Ace by the arm to hold him back.

"Hey, when are things gonna start happening?" I asked. "I don't have a lot of time, remember?"

"I told you to trust me, right?"

"Yeah..."

"So trust me." He gave me a lengthy look, his eyes drifting over me. "We're having drinks at Irby's tonight. You should come."

"No thanks. After last night, I'm never drinking again."

Ace laughed. "Famous last words. So, what else are you gonna do? Sit around here by yourself watching Leave it to Beaver?"

"The Untouchables, actually..." I muttered.

"I'll pick you up at seven."

"Whatever," I sighed. When they had all left, I called in sick for work and then crawled back into my warm bed. I let my head sink into the pillow and closed my eyes, but the sound of the bathroom door closing made one eye snap open again.

"Who's still here?" I groaned. I was sure the guys were all accounted for. I supposed I should see who it was and grudgingly crawled off the bed and went to the kitchen to wait for them.

Sometime later, I was woken by a poke in the arm.

"Sorry, is this your house?" a girl asked in a hasty and excited voice.

I raised my head off the counter-top and blinked my eyes in an attempt to stop seeing a blur. She was a pretty girl with dark blonde hair that was pulled back into a long ponytail, and she had wide, enthusiastic blue eyes. She pulled a cardigan over her small shoulders and adjusted her breezy, peach skirt which hung slightly below her knees.

"Sorry I stayed last night. I hope you don't mind." She spoke so quickly that one of her sentences would've fitted into half the time frame of one of mine. And it wasn't just because I was feeling sluggish and slow.

"No, it's fine." At least I now knew what Eyeball meant earlier and felt very relieved. "Do you want some coffee?"

"No thank you. I'm not allowed to drink coffee and my parents can always tell when I have. So, if I have one now, they'll know I snuck out because we don't have it in our house. I'm not allowed sugar either. Do you know how hard that is? Especially at Easter. If I get given chocolate, I have to give it all to my brothers. It's so unfair." She gave me a hopeless smile and sighed.

"Wow, that is unfair..." I said. Although, I could completely understand why the rabbiting rabbit wasn't allowed it. She was hopping off the walls even at that early hour in the morning, caffeine and sugar free.

"I'm Carol," she said, holding out her delicate hand, and I shook it.

"Cassie. So... Carol, is sneaking out a regular thing for you?"

"Lately, yes. My parents would go ape and ground me for life if they knew I was dating a Chambers! But he's such a dreamboat," she smiled with a far-away look in her eyes. "And he's so sweet when we're alone."

I thought back to my first meeting with Eyeball when he threatened to break my arm.

"We've been dating for two months now and that's the longest relationship I've ever been in," she continued. "But I don't get to see him all that much; only a couple of times a week. So, I was so super excited when I heard Ace was having a party! It was bitchin'!"

"Yeah, Ace sure knows how to throw 'em big."

"Nobody throws parties as big as Ace's. It's probably because nobody else can get as much alcohol as he can. Who knows where he gets it from! When people hear he's having a party, the news spreads like wildfire and anyone who's anyone will be there. Your parents must be too cool to let you have one, or are they out of town and didn't know? Oh... I guess that means we slept in your bed... oh um..."

"No, you didn't. I'm the only one who lives here. My parents... they aren't around anymore."

"Oh... you mean, they left or..."

"The latter."

"Oh... I'm so sorry to hear that..." she said solemnly.

"It's OK. Hey, um... you didn't happen to clean up around here last night, did you?"

"Oh, yeah! Ace said if I did it, he'd invite me to every party he has for an entire month! I would've done it anyway, though. I usually do. Somebody has to, don't they? I mean, the entire house was a complete mess inside and out! But it only took me two hours. That's not even as long as... oh, sorry... I'm talking too much, aren't I? My friends always tell me I do."

"That's quite alright," I said, frowning upon Ace. "Thank you for doing that for me."

"It's OK – I love cleaning! That's what us ladies are good at, after all. Do you think the next party will be here then? Because I would be more than willing to help out again, any way I can."

"Thanks, Carol. And I think the chances of Ace making me have the next party here are above average."

"Ace can be real loose sometimes. Do you know what he did on his 16th birthday? He stole a police car and took the guys joyriding in it. Can you believe it? A police car! Isn't that wild?"

"Yeah, I'd probably believe that," I smirked.

She suddenly gasped and clasped her hand over her mouth, her blue eyes widening to the size of saucers. "Are you and Ace..."

"Huh?" I choked, caught unawares. "No! No way. Not in a million years."

"Oh. Sorry. Anyway, I'd better go." She walked out the door, bouncing on her heels with her ponytail happily swaying from side to side. "My friends and I are going to the park for a picnic later, would you like to come?"

"Um... I would but I'm really tired."

"Perhaps another time then?"

"I... will let you know." She seemed nice enough and I was grateful for what she did, but I thought spending an entire afternoon with someone with that amount of energy would wear me out.

"It was nice to meet you Cassie!" she said, waving at me as I closed the door.

"Wow..." I whispered to myself, locking it in relief.

I checked the rooms to make sure there were no more surprise girls to wake me up and then slogged my way down to the bedroom. I crashed and snuggled into the pillows, excited for more sleep. But as I closed my eyes, all I could think about... was Ace. He was Chris's nemesis. He practically sold me to the mob and then tried to use me as bait to get even more money. He was a self-serving bastard and yet I found myself admiring so much about him. And ever since he showed up the night before, I didn't feel the same gut-wrenching, terrorizing fear about owing Diego all of that money. Somehow, Ace's coolness about the situation calmed me. If it were anyone else, I don't think they would have had the same effect. It was just because... it was him.

—2-

Irby's was packed out that Saturday night. The smoke was so thick that a cloud puffed out the front door as Ace and I walked in. I followed him through the haze to the back of the room where the rest of the boys had already started their night.

Jack and Charlie were on the pool table, and the other four were sitting in the booth with a beer each. There was a cluster of extra beers center-table, and Ace swiped one up and offered it to me. I shook my head at it, and he shrugged before cracking the top off.

Vince and Eyeball sat opposite each other, playing drinking games across the table. Judging by the drunken state of Eyeball, it seemed that he was losing... badly. The game was simple enough: Vince was flipping a quarter and calling heads or tails. If he got it right, Eyeball had to drink. If he got it wrong, Vince was supposed to drink. But I never saw Vince get it wrong.

"You're gonna luth this time," Eyeball slurred as he took an unsteady swig.

Vince flipped and covered the quarter on his hand. "Tails!" he called.

Bursts of laughter rang out among the other guys as Vince revealed the correct call once again; tails it was - Eyeball had to drink. I watched carefully as Vince flipped again and continued on his winning streak, steadily slaughtering Eyeball into a state of disrepair. But I knew his secret. You can feel the underside of the coin with your thumb before placing it on your hand. If the underside is smooth, tails is on top. If it's rough, it'll be heads.

Vince announced yet another win, and Eyeball's eyebrows sagged. "Fuck you, man!" he yelled. "Why don't I ever get to flip?"

"Here then loser," Vince said, throwing the quarter at him.

Eyeball was so drunk by that time that after he tossed the coin he was too uncoordinated to catch it again. It dropped between his legs, fell under the table and rolled across the floor.

"That's a vessel!" Vince blared, abruptly standing and pointing down at Eyeball. "Come on, you pussy! Suck back that whole bottle!"

"Get fucked ya cock-knocker!" Eyeball huffed, raising his middle finger at Vince. He may have appeared to be irritated about losing, but he still avidly downed his drink, looking like he enjoyed every mouthful of it.

I gave Ace an agonizing look, wishing I'd stayed home.

"OK," he said, turning to Charlie and Jack. "Game's over boys. Rack 'em up."

Charlie's cue was ripped out of his hands and given to me.

"Said I'd teach you, remember?" Ace said.

"Yes... yes, you did." He had offered to teach me because I had lied to him by saying that I didn't know how. The truth was, I was rusty and didn't want to embarrass myself in front of them all. I regretted lying to him now, and I was about to confess when Vince rudely bumped my shoulder as he walked by.

"Teaching the chick to play, Ace?" he said, flashing me a haughty smile before disappearing into the men's room.

I scowled and chalked up my cue.

"We play standard eight-ball and we always play for money," Ace said, peering down the length of his cue, inspecting it for flaws. "But since you're new at this, we're gonna play a non-official practice round. You wanna break?"

"You do it this time." I swear I wanted to tell him, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to strike back at Vince and chalk one up on my side of the board.

"Watch and learn." Ace strolled to the end of the table and leaned down low over his cue. He drew it back and then thrust forward with force, breaking the balls and pocketing two solids. He then ambled around the table, sinking one ball after the other without a miss. He was on form that night and I felt both nervous and excited about playing him for real.

"You're up," he said.

I held my pool cue over the table, and it felt foreign in my hands. It was like riding a bike when you haven't ridden one in a long time. You never forget how, but it takes some time to get used to the feel of it again.

"You need to make a solid bridge," Ace said, positioning the shaft in my left hand. He then lowered the butt of the cue to my hip and kicked at my ankles to make me widen my stance. "Try to pocket the nine."

I weakly took the shot and hit the side of the nine, making it veer off to the left.

Ace winced as he rubbed his forehead.

"Gee, O'Connor, I could've made that shot with my eyes closed," I heard Vince say behind me.

"Vince, fuck off," Ace said.

Vince's grin faded and he went back to the booth. I couldn't help smiling at how perfectly timed that was.

Ace went to the other side of the table and lined up the cue ball and the nine again. "Give it another shot," he said.

"It just... feels weird," I sighed, glancing at Vince who was looking at me over his shoulder. He snickered before turning his attention back to the other guys.

Ace gave me a lengthy look and then wandered over to my side of the table again. He repositioned the cue in my hands and firmly pressed his chest against my back to lower me down. "A solid bridge - hold it firm enough to have control, but not too tight," he said.

I could see nothing but a blur of balls while he held me there, nestled underneath him. I couldn't focus; I couldn't concentrate. I was too distracted by his solid arms that were holding my cue straight and his warm breath kissing my ear.

"Does it feel weird now?" he asked.

"Yes..." I squeaked.

"Just let the shaft glide through your fingers."

Oh my God... Get a grip!I scolded myself.

I forced myself to regain focus and then took the shot, smoothly and easily pocketing the nine.

"Nicely done," he said, and he gently patted my hip as he stood, relieving my back of his weight.

"Maybe you should let me get some more practice in," I said. "I think I'm getting the hang of this."

Ace went off to harass Billy into topping up their stockpile of beer, leaving me alone at the table. As I worked on my shots, it began to feel slicker in my hands. I'd look up at Ace every now and then, and he'd be frowning suspiciously at me as he swigged his drink. Although I wasn't sinking a lot of balls, I must have looked more comfortable with the cue than a typical beginner.

Good thing Vince wasn't paying as much attention. He seemed to have become distracted by something happening at the front of the bar. He was now up on his feet, and his arms were tightly crossed against his chest as he shot a loathing look ahead of him. I followed his gaze to see Eyeball standing near the front door, flirting with a girl I had never seen before. Her pretty, baby-doll face had a pale complexion, and her auburn hair flowed around her shoulders in adorable tight ringlets. Eyeball's eyes constantly roamed her with undisguised interest, and she giggled as he took her delicate hands in his. It was clear to see what Vince thought – his contorted expression could have scared a small child.

They only talked for a little while and then Eyeball kissed her hand to which she shyly giggled about and then left.

Eyeball walked back to us with a wobble from being so drunk, and Vince still had that loathing look in his eyes. "What the fuck, man?" Vince said, shoving Eyeball's shoulder.

Eyeball briefly lost his balance and grabbed the table to save himself from falling over. "Back off, asshole!" he barked.

"You knew I was diggin' on that chick!"

"Since when?"

"Since last week when we met her, dickwad!"

"Who you callin' a dickwad?"

"You, dickwad! You weren't even lookin' at her until I told you I was gonna ask her out!"

"Well, go ask her out then! I ain't stoppin' you!"

"You've ruined it for me now, ain't you?"

"Look, if you want her, go get her. Else shut your damn trap and stop buggin' me about it."

Vince looked to where the girl had already departed. "Know what? I'm gonna do it," he said, and he straightened himself, took a brave breath and then made a beeline for the front door.

"This should be a laugh and a half," Eyeball chuckled behind his back.

A few minutes later, Vince returned, holding up a piece of paper which wiped the grin off Eyeball's face. "Got her number," he said.

"Lemme see that," Eyeball snatched the card from Vince's hand. "Damn, this is her number!"

"Well, she might be pretty, but if she wants both of you knuckleheads, she must be deranged."

"Shut up, Billy!" Vince and Eyeball spat in unison, and Billy just grinned.

"Alright O'Connor," Vince said. "That's enough pissing around. We wanna play."

"Knock yourself out," I said, handing him my cue. It was time to see what I'd be up against.

Vince and Billy took to the table and I slid into the booth next to Ace. I kept one ear on the conversation and two eyes on the game as I took vital notes on Vince's style of play. He was good, but he was cocky too which was what I expected. If there was a choice of going for an easy or a difficult shot, he'd pick the difficult shot every time. The guy could not play it safe to save himself. I was impressed to see him pull off some of the more difficult shots, but he seemed to fluke it most of the time. And he still won two games against Billy, for which he came out ten dollars richer.

"So, who's next in line to lose?" Vince asked, racking up the balls for a new game.

"I'll play you," I said, rising from the booth.

"What? Geez, I want some kinda challenge."

I took the $20 note out of my jeans pocket – my only savings - and held it up between two fingers. "Rack 'em up." I slapped it down on the corner of the table and Vince cocked one eyebrow like he thought I must be crazy.

"Too rich for you?" I asked him.

He scoffed. "Not at all. In fact, why don't we make it twenty plus the loser buys the nights drinks... for everyone."

"Let's go," I said with a sassy smile.

I held out my hand and he shook it, looking like he couldn't believe his good fortune. He bumped my shoulder as he passed me and positioned his cue to break, but I grabbed the end of it.

"Hang on," I said. "Where's your money?"

"What for? You may as well hand yours over to me now."

"Fair's fair," Ace said, rising from the booth and stepping in. "Let's see it."

"Fine," Vince said. He dug the two fivers he'd just won off Billy out of his pocket, plus another ten, and handed it all over to Ace.

"That's more like it," I said, eying him down. "Besides, it's my break. And I'm gonna clean the table."

"What are you on, girl?" Vince laughed.

I subtly stole his cue from him - the one I had used for practice. My break shot was hard and the balls scattered in all directions with two solids sinking into the side pockets on opposite sides of the table.

"Nice break," Ace said with suspicious eyes.

I glanced at Vince to see that his cocky expression had caved into one of unease. If I'd lost then, that look would have been worth every cent I'd gambled. I continued on, slowly pacing around the table and popping off shots here and there, sinking every single one of them. I tried to avoid the difficult shots because my form still didn't feel perfect, but I wasn't doing too badly considering how long it had been since I last played.

Ace pulled a stool over from the bar and rubbed his chin, grinning slightly as he watched me progress. The other guys soon gathered around too, rowdily cheering on the game like it was the most exciting thing they'd seen in weeks.

Just when I was getting a little cocky myself, I accidentally shot myself into a corner, trapping the cue ball behind one of Vince's balls. The only way I could save myself was to swerve the white around Vince's ball to pocket my three on the other side of the table.

"Haha, I got her!" Vince said, punching his fist into his palm.

I scratched my head as I looked for another way. If I turned the table over to Vince now, chances were, I'd never get it back.

"How are your swerve shots?" Ace asked. "I'm gonna guess you know damn well what that is."

I gave him a guilty glance followed by a nervous laugh. I had pulled off those types of shots in the past when I was on form, but in my rusty state, I wasn't confident at all.

I aimed down on the ball, blanking out Vince's smart-ass jeers which were flying at me thick and fast. Hoots and hollers came from the rest of the guys as I gently played the shot. The cue ball swerved around Vince's ball nicely and was on the path to the three. Everyone anxiously watched on tip-toes as the three was knocked on, rolled towards the pocket... and then stopped.

"Dammit!" I just hadn't given it enough power.

Sympathetic comments and slaps on my back came from the guys.

"Clean the table huh?" Vince smirked as he strutted over for his first shot of the game. "Why don't you head over to the bar and buy us all a round? I'm gettin' kinda thirsty."

"Just play, Vince," I muttered. "You haven't won yet."

Ace grabbed me by the arm and pulled me backward, and I found myself sitting next to him on a second stool he'd taken from the bar. "You're a good fucking bullshitter," he said.

I blushed. "I was gonna tell you, but I couldn't pass up the chance to wipe that shit-eating grin off Vince's face."

"You challenge Vince to anything and he'll take you up on it, or fall for it - whichever way you wanna look at it. You could've thrown your money down on the table right at the start and he would've jumped at the chance to beat you."

"Yeah... I'm slowly learning that about him. However... if I'd been upfront... I wouldn't have gotten a lesson from a pool shark."

"Yeah, you enjoyed that, didn't you?" He gave me the sideways eye as he took a swig from his bottle.

I shrugged and smiled and then turned my attention back the game. Vince had made some good progress by pocketing four of his stripes, and I saw a similar shot to the one I'd failed on open up in front of him. He wasn't wedged into a corner and he had other options, but as Ace said, he'd rise to any challenge.

"Hey, Vince, look at your ten," I hinted.

"You lookin' for a little lesson?" he asked.

"I'd love one please."

"She's tryin' to play ya, Vince," Ace smirked. I felt his arm snake around my waist and I froze. My insides turned to jello. I was frozen jello.

Advice poured in from the other guys telling Vince to let it go, but every bit of it was ignored.

"Lemme show you how it's done," Vince said, aiming down on the cue ball.

Watching Vince's face sink into serious concentration mode was a good distraction from the attention Ace was giving me. My heart raced and my sweaty fingers gripped tighter around my cue. He was so determined to sink this one that I worried he might actually pull it off. Everyone rose to their tip-toes again as Vince took the swerve shot. The white curved around my ball and hit the ten. We all held our breaths as the ten rolled towards the corner pocket... and then slightly scratched the rail and veered away.

"Shit man! Shit!" Vince roared, thumping his fist so hard on the table that I was amazed that our remaining balls didn't roll.

"You're gonna lose to a chick!" Eyeball laughed, earning himself a slap across the skull from Vince.

I stood, and Ace's arm slipped away. I was somewhat relieved. My final three solids were easy now that most of Vince's balls had been cleared, and I finished the game by rolling the black eight past Vince's failed ten into the corner pocket. I didn't rub it in, though. In fact, I didn't say a word to Vince. I just strolled over to Ace who handed me my money with a commending grin and a pat on the ass. Again, jello.

Giving up drinking – it was never gonna happen. And anyway, I had to fully cash in on my winnings. We all cashed in. We drank until Vince was broke. I only have vague memories of the rest of the night; some of earning a few dollars more from playing other people in the bar and then losing every cent of it to Ace when I played him. At 2 am, closing time, I staggered out of Irby's, bent double and clinging to Ace with my arms wrapped around his waist. Oh, how alcohol can change one. He helped me get into his '49 and I slumped sideways as a lifeless heap across the front seat.

"You're too pissed to drive," I slurred.

"I'm fine," he said, opening the driver's door. "You're the one who was puking in the shithouse."

"Shut up you," I yawned.

He lifted my head off the driver's seat so he could get behind the wheel and then he dropped it on his lap. I stretched out with a smile, happy to have a comfortable, warm pillow.

The sound of the V8 filled my ears and vibrated throughout my numb and intoxicated body. I indulged in the deep, husky and yet velvety-soft drone as we traveled through the streets.

-3—

When I woke, I found that Ace's lap had been replaced by my pillow. I was lying in my bed, still fully dressed, and I had the major drys. I slogged myself out of bed, feeling drunk and deathly tired. When I came back from freshening myself up a little, I saw Ace lying on the other side of my bed.

"I'm gonna have to start charging you rent," I said, collapsing onto the sheets.

"And I'm gonna have to start charging you chaperon fees and gas money," he mumbled from under his pillow.

I smirked with a laugh. "I was so gone last night, I don't even remember getting out of the car."

"Then you won't remember me banging your head on the door frame as I was carrying your drunk ass inside either."

"You did what?" I laughed, feeling my head for a bruise. "Anyway... thanks for looking after me... sort of. I haven't had a night like that in a long time. I needed it."

He emerged from underneath the pillow and lay on top of it instead, hugging it underneath him. "You sound like you enjoyed yourself."

That sexy back was on display again, and I had to take a breath and concentrate on keeping my eyes off it. "I did. Actually... to be honest, I've never had a night like that. I mean, I partied and stuff back in Portland but, I could never really let my hair down. I've never been that drunk before."

"Why?"

"Because James was always there, watching out for me." Flashbacks of James always taking the glass out of my hand went by and I shook the memories away. "Shit," I whispered. "I don't know why I keep bringing him up."

"He's that old boyfriend, right?"

"He wasn't... it wasn't quite like that."

"Well, did you fuck him?"

"Ace!" I said, shoving him in the arm.

"Well, did you or didn't you?"

"That's... way too personal. I don't even know why I'm talking to you about any of this when I should be kicking you out. What the hell are you still doing here, anyway?"

"So you did."

"GET OUT."

A small knock at the front door grabbed our attention. We heard a slow whining sound as it opened, followed by a familiar voice. "Cass, are you here?"

"Holy shit!" I sprung up, off the bed.

"Is that Chris?" Ace laughed, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

"Come on, get up! You've gotta get outta here!" I whispered.

"He's already seen the car, stupid. Your secret's out."

"Shit!"

"Will you quit with the hysterics?" He sat up and swiped his T-shirt off the floor then trudged around the bed with the intention of walking out, but I blocked his way.

"You can't go out there," I said, getting hedged in chest flesh as he tried to push his way past. "Go... out the window."

"I'm not goin' out the window."

"Then, at least put your T-shirt on!"

Ace grinned. "Come on, Cass. You and me both know you prefer it off."

I blushed like I'd never blushed before, and he moved me aside before heading through the door.

"Oh my..." I ran my shaking fingers through my hair and took a breath before following him out.

"Hey Chambers, how's it goin'?" Ace smiled, finally pulling his T-shirt over his head.

Chris was standing in the kitchen with his brow low and eyes wide as he looked to me for answers.

"Um... well... um..." was all I could give him.

Ace laughed and then bent to kiss me behind the ear. "I'll see you tonight," he said with a devilish smile. He cuffed Chris over the back of the head before strutting out the door and leaving.

"What the hell are you doing, Cass?"

My cheeks couldn't get any redder. I'm sure that five minutes earlier I would've been secretly reveling at feeling Ace's soft lips on my neck, but nobody grounds me like Chris does. It was like he'd reached up, grabbed my ankles that were dangling from the clouds and yanked me back down to earth. I landed so hard I felt like road kill.

Chris turned to walk out on me, and I was really struggling to find an explanation - or an excuse, more like. "He's not all bad," I blurted out. I instantly regretted saying it, but I couldn't take back what I believed.

Chris glared at me with a look like he didn't know me anymore. His eyes narrowed so intensely it scared me. "You say that because you don't know that son-of-a-bitch like I do. Well, maybe I should tell you, huh? Maybe I should tell you about the time when him and Norman Bracowicz ganged up on Gordie and snapped two of his fingers like toothpicks. Maybe I should tell you about the time Ace held a switchblade to my throat and almost used it."

"He did what?"

"Yeah. He was gonna slit my throat. He was gonna murder a twelve-year-old kid."

My mouth gaped open in pure revulsion and I noticed that I was trembling. "My God, Chris... I'm so sorry."

Chris gave me one last hurtful look and shook his head before turning away and walking out the door.