Page 87 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“See?”

Ronan laughed. Elliot didn't. Dylan pulled on his jacket. He moved toward the door. Ronan followed. Elliot remained near the kitchen. Dylan opened the door. Cold air entered. He paused. Then looked back at Ronan.

“You coming Saturday?”

Elliot's fingers tightened around the dish towel. Ronan saw.

“No idea.”

Dylan looked toward Elliot. A tiny smile appeared.

“Family thing?”

Ronan's face changed. Elliot smiled.

“Maybe.”

Dylan laughed.

“Night, psycho.”

The word was directed at Elliot jokingly. Casually. It landed strangely. Ronan stiffened. Dylan apparently didn't notice. Elliot did.

“Night, Dylan.”

The door closed. Ronan locked it. Then turned around.

“Don't.”

Elliot leaned against the counter.

“Don't what?”

“Whatever you're about to say.”

“I wasn't going to say anything.”

“Bullshit.”

Elliot smiled. Ronan walked toward him.

“You were staring holes through him.”

“He called me a psycho.”

“He was joking.”

“I know.”

“You don't look like you know.”

“What should knowing look like?”

Ronan stopped. There it was again. That strange concentration. Elliot recognized it now. Ronan was studying him. Not casually. Actually studying him. Elliot's smile faded.

“What?”

Ronan looked away first.