Closest To My Heart

Chapter One

"Sean? You in here?"

Tag Vitale kept his voice to a stage whisper as he eased the door open and crept further into the room, which was like taking a step back in time to his own childhood bedroom. The curtains were drawn on the lone window, and the computer monitor in the corner cast an eerie bluish tint over the room as its screen saver displayed an infinite shower of falling stars. The aroma from a trio of Chinese take-out cartons on the desk nearly succeeded in masking the faint smell of marijuana smoke that still hung in the air. Tag had never quite grasped the allure of smoking pot, and he was thankful that his new roommate didn't indulge on a regular basis, and that he kept it confined to his bedroom when he did. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the piles of books, papers, CDs, and other random detritus that lay scattered across nearly every horizontal surface, including the floor. In the month that had passed since moving in, Tag had never ventured further down the hallway than his own room or the bathroom, so this was the first time he had seen the other man's quarters, and it made him feel...old. He shook his head at the mess, appalled in a paternal sort of way, which was unnerving in and of itself. He wasn't that much older than Sean, only by four years, but judging by the state of Sean's bedroom, the difference may as well have been forty.

This isn't the room of a thirty year old man, for crissakes, Tag thought, stepping around a small pyramid of empty Mountain Dew cans. It's the room of a teenager!

Still, the cluttered disarray represented Sean O'Donnell, to a tee—sloppy, frenetic, disorganized... and yet appealing, in its own quirky way. The whole apartment was like that, actually. Not the tidiest by any means, but a place where you could feel comfortable putting your feet up on the coffee table or setting a beer down without using a coaster. Sean was thirty going on sixteen, and neither he nor his apartment put on any false airs, which was why Tag had taken an instant liking to both. He had never been concerned with head games or keeping up appearances, and Sean O'Donnell seemed to live by the same creed.

But right then, Tag had something more pressing on his mind than the rules of society or bachelor pad décor.

"Sean!" Tag hissed more urgently, nudging the mattress with his foot. "You in here?"

The mound of sheets and laundry that littered the bed began to move, evidence that Sean was, in fact, in residence. A muffled sound that was more growl than groan came from somewhere deep within the pile, followed shortly by a resonant snore as the heap fell still once again. Tag heaved an impatient sigh and kicked the side of the mattress with his boot.

"Get up," he said through gritted teeth. "There's a strange woman in my bed!"

The mass of laundry shifted again, its surface rolling like waves on the ocean until Sean finally managed to find an opening to poke his head out through. He squinted up at Tag with one eye, and then flopped back down on his stomach and pulled the pillow over his head.

"Congratulations, man," he mumbled. "Frankly, I was starting to worry..."

"Will you be serious?" Tag reached down and yanked the covers back, then immediately threw them down again. He turned away, covering his eyes like he'd just been spray with sulfuric acid. "Jeez, Sean! What the hell?"

"What? I sleep better naked," Sean said matter-of-factly, the bedsprings chirping beneath his weight as he moved to sit up. "You should try it sometime, unless you've got a problem with nudity?"

"I do when it's a guy!" Tag scoffed, daring a glance over his shoulder to make sure it was safe before turning around fully. "Look, right now your pasty white ass is the least of my concerns..."