Chapter 22

Suddenly David’s hand was on my arm and he was spinning me to face him.

“You may not think it’s important, but to John, it makes a difference. Calling him little diminishes him. You’re patronizing him. Just like the name ‘Pretty Boy’ did me.” His eyes blazed.

“What? But you were my Pretty Boy.”

“Not at fourteen or sixteen or eighteen, definitely not at twenty. I wasn’t a boy. Anybody’s boy,” he spat at me.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that. It was a compliment, for fuck’s sake. Like me calling LJ little.”

“Did he introduce himself as Little John?”

I shook my head. He’d introduced himself as John Barton. I’d been the one to tack the “little” on to his first name. Shit.