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in her heart that Patricia was only being cordial and thinking about Brian, too, who was Jeff’s houseguest and couldn’t very well be excluded. He had one foot on the driveway, but this time instead of putting Theresa on the spot, he answered, “We’ll talk it over and let you know, okay?”
    “Some people from school are having a party in their home, and I told them I might go.” The manufactured tale came glibly to Theresa’s lips while she was still puzzling out where it had come from.
    “Oh.” Patricia sounded genuinely disappointed. “Well, in that case, you’ll come, won’t you, Brian? We have to make dinner reservations in advance.”
    “I’ll think it over.”
    “Fine.”
    Brian swiveled toward the open door, but Jeff   reached out and caught his arm. “Listen, Scan, thanks. I mean, I guess I ought to come in with you and play the host, but I’ll see you in the morning at breakfast.”
    “Go on. Have a good time and don’t worry about me.”
    When the car pulled away, Theresa and Brian stood on the back step while she dug in her purse for the house keys. When she found them and opened the door, they stepped into a dim kitchen where only a single bulb shone down on top of the white stove. It was silent—no stereo, no guitar, no voices.
    They were both excruciatingly aware of what Jeff and Patricia were probably going off to do, and it created a corresponding sexual tension between them.
    Seeking a diversion, Theresa whispered, “You said you were hungry for cake. There’s plenty of it left.”
    He wasn’t, really, but Brian wasn’t at all averse to spending a little more time with Theresa, and the cake offered an excuse.
    “I will if you will.”
    “It sounds good.”
    She moved toward the front hall, which was in total shadow, and made no move to turn on the light while removing her coat. Again, Brian was behind her to help her out of the garment, then hang it up. She left him there with a murmured thanks and returned to the kitchen to find two plates, forks and glasses of milk, taking them to the table where the cake still sat.
    He joined her, choosing a chair at a right angle to hers, and they sat for a long time eating, saying nothing. The rafters of the house creaked in the December cold, and though it was very dark with only the small hood light illuminating the blotch of stove beneath it, she sensed Brian Scanlon studying her while he downed gulps of milk that sounded clearly in the silence.
    “So, you’re going to a party with someone from school on New Year’s Eve?”
    “No, I made that up.”
    His chin came up in surprise. “Oh?”
    “Yes. I don’t like people arranging dates for me, and furthermore, you don’t need to be saddled with  me  on New Year’s Eve. You go with Jeff and meet his friends. He’s got some really nice—”
    “Saddled  with you?” he interrupted in that smooth, deep, unnerving voice that sent shivers up her nape.
    “Yes.”
    “Did I give you the impression tonight that I resented being with you?”
    “You know what I mean. You didn’t come home with Jeff to have to haul me around every place you go.”
    “How do you know?”
    She was stunned, she could only stammer. “You ... I....”
    “Would it surprise you to know that you’re a big part of why I wanted to meet Jeff’s family?”
    “I ...” But once again, she was struck dumb.
    “He’s told me a lot about you, Theresa. A lot.”
    Oh, Lord, how much? How much? Jeff, who knows my innermost fears. Jeff, who understands. Jeff, who can’t keep anything to himself.
    “What has he told you?” She tried to control the panic, but it crept into her voice, creating a vibrato that could not be disguised.
    He made himself more comfortable, stretching his long legs somewhere beneath the table to find the seat of a chair as he leaned back to study her shadowed face speculatively. His eyes held points of light as he caught an elbow on the table edge and braced one jaw on his knuckles, tipping