Untouchable (boyxboy)

Chapter 10

"Who were you talking to?" Isaac asks as he descends the stairs.

"I don't know," I answer, looking up at him. "He said that Dylan gave him this address and that his name was Neil. Sound familiar?"

Isaac frowns. "No. What'd he look like?"

I describe him, and Isaac's expression grows more mystified. "Huh. He sounds sketchy. We can ask Dylan about it later."

Something skitters and jumps in my chest. "What do you mean we can 'ask Dylan' later?"

"Shit, I forgot to tell you," Isaac says, standing on the bottom step and leaning against the banister. "Dyl's coming up with the guys to help move stuff. Just for tonight."

"What about the show?" I ask, keeping my voice and expression neutral to hide my sudden anxiety.

Isaac stares at me a moment and then smacks himself in the forehead. "Shit—I forgot. Oh well, there's probably a few tickets left—it'll just cost more."

The thought of having to see Dylan sooner than I'd expected has thrown me for a loop, and I jump on the first idea that crosses my mind without really thinking it through.

"Actually, I listened to some of that band's music last night," I lie, "and I'm not really into it. Dylan can have your extra ticket. He likes that kind of thing."

Isaac's expression falls. "But...I don't want to go with Dylan. I want to go with you."

"Well, I don't want to go at all. Sorry," I say, with a little more bite than I intend.

I can tell Isaac is surprised and hurt, and I know I'm being an ungracious jerk; but if that's what it takes to get out of spending the evening in Dylan's company, then I don't care. Besides, some time alone might be just what I need to do some digging on 'Dyl,' as his friends apparently call him.

"Hey," Isaac says, hopping off the bottom step to stand before me, "are you okay? You look a little freaked out."

"I'm fine," I assure him, dredging up a smile. "I just didn't sleep well."

That's true enough. I have trouble relaxing in new environments, and I'd lain awake most of last night and the night before.

"Oh, that sucks. I used to have insomnia, so I understand" he says. "The only thing that helped me was snuggling a stuffed toy. I don't think Uncle Reg has any of those around, but I'd be willing to fill the role if you want."

He waggles his eyebrows and then laughs at whatever he sees on my face.

"I'm kidding! God, you're so cute I could kiss you—but I won't," he adds quickly, hands raised. "Promise."

I roll my eyes. He's really good at keeping me off balance, if nothing else.

"Actually," he says slowly, biting his lip, "I was hoping you'd model for me this morning—you know, stand in for Belle so I can take some practice shots—make sure I've got a good idea of the best settings and angles and shit before the 'real deal.' The guys won't get here until this afternoon, so we'll have plenty of time."

"Sure," I say, shrugging. "I don't mind. I just have to stand around, right?"

"Actually..."

At this point, I should expect something unusual to follow whenever he starts a sentence with that word, but he still takes me by surprise.

"It'll be best if I can get the colors right. I'll need you to wear something like her dress. A sheet should work."

I stare at him. "You want me to wear...a sheet?"