Chapter Twenty

“I have a favor to ask of you,” Christopher says.

I squint up at him, the morning sunlight bright behind his head. I have a book in my hands as I sit on the bottom step to my dad's apartment, but I'm not really reading. My brain is more focused on Christopher and Jonathan than on the words on the page. I spent a restless night thinking about the two of them, and the book isn't helping me get my mind off of either of them.

I have years of wanting Jonathan on one side, and a night of passion on the other. How am I supposed to choose between them?

“What kind of favor?” I ask warily. I have a feeling that there is more to this request than just driving him to the airport or loaning him a cup of sugar.

“It's kind of a last-minute thing,” he tells me. He sounds casual and unconcerned, but he's playing with his cuff links. It's another one of his tells. Cuticles and cuff links mean he's nervous.

Christopher is wearing his traditional suit. It's dark gray today with a pale blue tie. His