Chapter 66

“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” Stacy knew his friend was the type to get real quiet when he got angry, not scream and shout and carry on like Lamar, and right now Ange was silent. Watching him, staring, as if trying to see through his skin into the very heart of his being, trying to read his thoughts in the swirl of blood through his veins. He was dimly aware of his pulse beneath Ange’s hand. “It’s just this guy—”

“Why should I be mad?” Ange asked, letting go. He frowned at the tip of his dwindling cigarette as if afraid it might wink out now that it was so close to the filter, but to Stacy it appeared as if that frown was directed his way.

I shouldn’t have come here, he thought, hating himself. I should’ve gone into work and forgotten all about Darian. Maybe I could’ve stopped by here after work and we could’ve hooked up without having to talk about anything afterwards. Without having to talk about this.“Ange—”