Page 65 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

Elliot ignored him. Ronan grabbed his ankle and pulled. Elliot slid several inches across the couch.

“Stop.”

“Make me.”

Elliot looked at him. The phrase sat between them. Recognition moved through his face. Then something warmer. Ronan smiled.

“That got your attention.”

“You're annoying.”

“So I've heard.”

He pulled again. This time Elliot let him. Eventually, Elliot ended up against Ronan's side with his head resting beneath Ronan's chin. No kissing. No sex. Nothing complicated. Just contact. Ronan wrapped an arm around him. Elliot resisted for approximately three seconds before settling.

“Better?” Ronan asked.

“No.”

“Liar.”

Elliot didn't answer. They sat that way while rain moved across the windows. At ten twelve, Elliot's phone vibrated. Claire. He opened it. Ronan felt Elliot's body change.

“What?”

Elliot didn't answer. He turned the screen. A screenshot from a Bellweather student group. One sentence. POLICE FOUND LUCAS'S BACKPACK NEAR THE RIVER TRAIL. Ronan stared. The river trail ran along the eastern edge of town. Miles from Saint Augustine's Park. Miles from Mason's murder. Maybe that was good. Maybe it meant none of this was connected. Then Elliot whispered:

“That's not where he should've been.”

Ronan looked down at him.

“What?”

Elliot's eyes remained on the screen.

“From Bellweather Tap.”

“So?”

“So that's the wrong direction.”

Ronan felt cold move through him.

“You just said the internet doesn't know anything.”

“It doesn't.”

“But?”

Elliot finally looked up.

“But if he was walking home, he wouldn't have gone near the river.”

Ronan stared.

“Unless he wasn't going home.”

Elliot said nothing. A thought formed. Ronan didn't like it.