Less Than Nothing by R.E. Blake Read Free Book Online Page A

tamer version of high school football heroes and the airheads that chase them. But this is everything from older women to girls my age or younger.
    I slide my coin bag into my backpack. Whatever it is, it’s working for us.
    I stop at the thought. Us.
    Is there now an us ? I glance over at Derek, who’s changing the top strings on his guitar, having splurged on a set after I’d returned with our burritos. Today was awesome, but nothing lasts forever. And in my experience, good things come and go in a blink, whereas bad ones linger like fungus.
    He seems to sense my mood. “Hey, so you have to admit, it worked pretty well.”
    “Do I?” That came out wrong. I try again. “It did work well. I’m sorry. I’m just a little tired.”
    He nods. “Where do you go when you’re done for the day?”
    I hesitate. Now we’re crossing into personal territory. What do I really know about Derek? He could be some kind of serial killer, for all I know. I mean, unlikely, but my instinct is always to play it close to the chest with any information.
    Because knowledge is power, and nobody’s going to get any power over me. Those days are over forever.
    “Oh, you know. I’ll grab something to eat and hang out someplace for a while.” Can’t get much more vague than that, I think.
    “What’s your favorite food?” he asks as he winds the final string on and turns the tuning key.
    Seems harmless to tell him, so I do. “I love Italian.”
    His face brightens. “Really? So do I. Might be because I’m part Italian. Yo, Vinnie,” he says, doing a passable Travolta imitation. At least I think it was Travolta. I’m not a big TV watcher, but I seem to remember it from growing up, my mom watching reruns all day long as she drank away her demons. “You want to grab something with me, Sage?”
    Every time he says my name, I get the same electric shock of pleasure. I feel silly. I’m behaving like an adolescent with a first crush. Or feeling like one. Outwardly, I give no sign of the thrill his words bring. At least, I sure hope I don’t.
    I stare at him for a few beats too long and then shrug. “Sure. Got any place special in mind?” I’m fat with coins, so I can spring for a real meal, as long as it’s a budget restaurant.
    “For Italian? Oh, yeah. There’s a great place down in the Mission. They literally put awesome sauce all over the pasta. Mind-blowing food, and right now I could eat a horse.”
    Maybe this isn’t a terrible idea. I can sneak in questions over dinner and find out more about him.
    “The Mission?” I normally stick to the area around the Haight. It’s familiar, and I know the traps to avoid, especially as it gets later. Parts of the city can get really scary ugly at night, and the Mission is one of them, depending on the area. South of Market’s another. The Tenderloin’s another.
    He senses my hesitation. “Don’t worry. I know the streets there pretty well. We’ll be okay.”
    Part of me wants to believe him. In fact, part of me warms at the thought of him being protective of me. Not that I need it. His grin is infectious, and I catch a glimpse of him as an eager young boy, just for a second, trying to please, to reassure, afraid of being rejected.
    I see a little of myself in that look. Or I should say, of myself from a long, long time ago.
    I mull it over as he finishes tuning the guitar and sets it down in the case. “Come on. What do you have to lose?”
    I think of my tattoo.
    I really don’t have anything to lose by having dinner with the hottest guy I’ve met in forever. I hear Melody’s voice in my head and remember her femme fatale act from that morning, as well as the admiring glances Derek’s collected all day.
    But still, I hesitate. I’ve built a hard shell to keep the world out, and this is a small step in the wrong direction. Or is it ?
    Crap.
    “Okay,” I agree.
    I wish I could take a picture of his expression. Pure happiness, kind of like a puppy with a new toy, which he