Harley, as big and rough-looking as I remembered him, a big bear of a man covered in tattoos, stepped forward, his eyes raking over Kira and me. "Well, I'll be damned."
"What? How?" I sputtered, stepping forward to grab his hand, my mind grasping to make sense of this situation. I forced myself to pull my focus from Kira long enough to gain some mental footing. "How are you here?" I wiped my sticky hand on my pants but only came away with more sticky fruit pulp.
Harley stared at me for a moment and then burst out laughing, his chuckle deep and warm. "Man, got out a month ago." He looked me up and down, an expression on his face between disgust and hilarity. "I think I'm more interested in hearing about what's been going on with you, though. Looks like it's been . . . sticky."
Kira suddenly stepped forward, her face mostly unrecognizable beneath gobs of apricot innards. "Wait, Harley? Harley?" she asked, her voice breathless.
Harley turned toward her, squinting. "Kira?" he asked.
My head moved back and forth between them. "You two know each other?" I asked, my voice filled with the shock I felt. I could see everyone else in my peripheral vision, their heads swinging back and forth from person to person as well. The only thing missing was popcorn.
"Oh my God!" Kira said excitedly, rushing toward Harley, heedless of the fact that she was about to cover him in the same sticky muck she was covered in. He didn't stop her, though, when she threw herself at him, hugging him tightly. I might have had another moment of jealousy, but the hug was brief and Harley was smiling at Kira with friendly affection. "I can't believe you're here."
"How do you know each other?" I asked again.
"From the drop-in center," she said, not even glancing at me. My head was swimming, not only from this strange blast from my past, but from the transition between what had been happening with Kira and me to what was happening now. If the silence of everyone else watching this exchange was any indication, they were shocked, too. "How do you two know each other?"
"From prison," I said.
"Oh," she breathed, finally looking at me. She looked back to Harley. "Harley, you served time?"
"Yeah, Kira, I did, I'm sorry to say. Turned out to be one of the best things that could have happened to me, actually. Life is good. Although," he turned back to me, "I'm hoping there might be an employment opportunity here."
"You need a job?" I asked. "Yeah, of course you can have a job. Man, whatever you need."
Harley's beefy face broke into a grin. "Was hoping you'd say that." He turned to the woman with pink hair wearing a skimpy leather skirt and an even skimpier tank top next to him. "By the way, this is Priscilla."
I showed her my sticky hand as explanation as to why I wasn't offering it. She laughed softly and said, "Nice to meet you, Grayson. Harley's told me a lot about you. I can see he might have left out some." She looked between Kira and me, but her look was amused, without mocking. She grinned up at Harley.
Charlotte stepped forward. "Maybe, Gray, you and Kira can get yourself cleaned up from . . . well, from . . . well, cleaned up, and we can all get acquainted up at the house?" She looked hopeful. I assumed they had all rushed down here thinking Kira and I were in some kind of physical showdown after what had happened near the maze. I guess that was actually pretty accurate—although it hadn't been violent. Mostly.
"That's a good idea. Kira?" She looked at me, seeming like she couldn't decide what she wanted to do.
"Yes, okay," she said finally.
I pulled on her sleeve and she halted, looking down at where my hand was touching her. "Kira—"
"Let's just get cleaned up, Grayson," she said quietly, not meeting my eyes, not allowing me to attempt to read her expression. I nodded, releasing her.