By Julie K. Lundgren
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Extra info for Falcons
You never plan. ” “I resent that remark,” Sean said. ” Davy’s voice grated. “I’m not asking you to be responsible, because that would be a contradiction in terms. I’m just asking you to face reality. I know you, Sean. If you sneak into that girl’s bedroom, you’ll end up fucking her. ” Sean stared at him, dismayed. “Chill, Davy. ” Davy’s grim expression did not change. ” Sean folded the condoms up and tucked them into his jeans. “Anything to calm you down,” he said. “See? It’s done. ” Davy turned around, and stood in the dark, fists clenched.
Davy usually maintained near-pathological control over his emotions, with the notable exception of his passion for Margot, his new wife. On a normal day, it took the emotional equivalent of a catastrophic earthquake to make him lose his temper. Davy rummaged through the cupboards. “I know there’s a bottle of Scotch around here. ” “Nope. I wouldn’t drink that stuff if you held a gun to my head. Would you calm the fuck down? ” Davy spun and kicked the swinging door. Smash, and one side dangled forlornly from its bent, twisted hinge.
The whole sequence of Kev’s hypothetical life played through his head in a blinding flash, whoosh. And man, it hurt when reality came crashing back to displace it. The sinkhole in his gut widened into a crater. He had to haul ass. Bursting into tears in downtown Endicott Falls was his idea of hell. He’d always sucked at hiding his feelings. Macho stoicism was Davy’s specialty. Kev’s, too, in a lighter way. Davy’s stoicism had a steely weight to it, like Dad’s. Kev’s had been more like a zen monk’s calm.
Falcons by Julie K. Lundgren