The girl… She wasn’t cute. Her hair, not really blond or brown, was out of the messy bun, and it was long, hanging over her shoulders. She was short as hell, barely five and a half feet. Still, her legs seemed to stretch forever. Dragging my eyes away from her legs took effort.
Eventually, my gaze landed on the front of her shirt. my blog is better than your vlog. What in the world did that mean? And why would she have that on her shirt… And the words blog and better were stretched taut. I swallowed. Not a good sign.
I lifted my gaze with even more effort.
Her face was round, nose pert, and skin smooth. I bet a million dollars her eyes were brown—big, old doe eyes.
Crazy as hell, but I could feel her eyes as her gaze made the slow perusal from where my jeans hung from my hips, back up to my face. She sucked in a sharp breath, which overshadowed my own inhale.
Her eyes weren’t brown, but they were large and round, a pale shade of heather gray—intelligent and clear eyes. They were beautiful. Even I could admit that.
And it pissed me off. All of this pissed me off. Why was I checking her out? Why was she even here? I frowned. “Can I help you?”
No answer. She stared at me with this look on her face, like she wanted me to kiss those full, pouty lips of hers. Heat stirred in the pit of my stomach.
“Hello?” I caught the edge in my voice—anger, lust, annoyance, more lust. Humans are weak, a risk…Dawson is dead because of a human—a human just like this one. I kept repeating that over and over again. I placed my hand on the doorframe, fingers digging into the wood as I leaned forward. “Are you capable of speaking?”
That got her attention, snapping her right out of the ogling. Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as she stepped back. Good. She was leaving. That’s what I wanted—for her to turn and rush away. Running a hand through my hair, I glanced over her shoulder and then back. Still there.
She really needed to get her cute ass off my porch before I did something stupid. Like smile at the way she was blushing. Sexy, even. And definitely not average. “Going once…”
The flush deepened. Hell. “I…I was wondering if you knew where the closest grocery store is. My name is Katy.”
Katy. Her name was Katy. Reminded me of Kitty. Kitty cat. Kitten. Look at me, putting all these words together.
“I moved next door.” She gestured at her house. “Like, almost three days ago…”
“I know.” I’ve been watching you for almost three days, like a stalker.
“Well, I was hoping someone would know the quickest way to the grocery store and maybe a place that sold plants.”
“Plants?”
Her eyes narrowed just the slightest, and I forced my face to remain expressionless. She fidgeted some more with the hem of her shorts. “Yeah, see, there’s this flower bed in front—”
I arched a brow. “Okay.”
Now her eyes were thin slits, and irritation heightened the blush and rolled off her. Amusement stirred deep inside me. I knew I was being an ass at this point, but I was perversely enjoying the spunk slowly igniting behind her eyes, baiting me. And…the flush of anger was sort of hot in a weird, there’s-really-something-wrong-with-me kind of way. She reminded me of something…
She tried again. “Well, see, I need to go buy plants—”
“For the flower bed. I got that.” I leaned my hip against the doorframe, crossing my arms. This was actually almost fun.
She took a deep breath. “I’d like to find a store where I can buy groceries and plants.” Her tone was one that I used with Dee about a thousand times a day. Adorable.
“You are aware this town has only one stoplight, right?” And there it was. The spark in her eyes was a blazing fire now, and I was fighting a full-on grin. Damn, she wasn’t just cute anymore. She was much, much more, and my stomach sank.
The girl stared at me, incredulous. “You know, all I wanted were directions. This is obviously a bad time.”
Thinking of Dawson, my lip curled into a sneer. Playtime was over. I had to nip this in the bud. For Dee’s sake. “Anytime is a bad time for you to come knocking on my door, kid.”
“Kid?” she repeated, eyes widening. “I’m not a kid. I’m seventeen.”
“Is that so?” Hell, as if I didn’t already notice she was all grown up. Nothing about her reminded me of a kid, but dammit, as Dee would say, I had piss-poor social skills. “You look like you’re twelve. No. Maybe thirteen, but my sister has this doll that kinda reminds me of you. All big-eyed and vacant.”
Her mouth dropped open, and I realized that I may have gone a little too far with that last statement. Well, it was for the better. If she hated me, she’d stay away from Dee. It worked with most of the girls. Ah, most of them.
Okay. That didn’t work with a lot of girls, but they didn’t live next door, so what the hell ever.
“Yeah, wow. Sorry to bother you. I won’t be knocking on your door again. Trust me.” She started to turn, but not quickly enough that I didn’t see the sudden glisten in those gray eyes.
Dammit. Now I felt like the biggest dick ever. And Dee would flip if she saw me acting like this. Stringing together a dozen or so curses in my mind, I called out to her. “Hey.”
She stopped on the bottom step, keeping her back to me. “What?”
“You get on Route 2 and turn onto U.S. 220 North, not South. Takes you into Petersburg.” I sighed, wishing I’d never answered the door. “The Foodland is right in town. You can’t miss it. Well, maybe you could. There’s a hardware store next door, I think. They should have things that go in the ground.”
“Thanks,” she muttered and added under her breath, “douchebag.”
Did she just call me a douchebag? What decade were we in? I laughed, genuinely amused by that. “Now that’s not very ladylike, Kittycat.”
She whipped around. “Don’t ever call me that.”
Oh, I must’ve hit a sore spot there. I pushed out the door. “It’s better than calling someone a douchebag, isn’t it? This has been a stimulating visit. I’ll cherish it for a long time to come.”
Her little hands balled into fists. I think she wanted to hit me. I think I might’ve liked it. And I think I seriously needed help.
“You know, you’re right. How wrong of me to call you a douchebag. Because a douchebag is too nice of a word for you.” She smiled sweetly. “You’re a dickhead.”
“A dickhead?” It would be too easy to like this girl. “How charming.”
She flipped me off.
I laughed again, lowering my head. “Very civilized, Kitten. I’m sure you have a wide array of interesting names and gestures for me, but not interested.”
And she looked like she did. Part of me was a bit disappointed when she spun around and stomped off. I waited until she yanked open her car door and because I really was an ass…
“See you later, Kitten!” I called out, chuckling when she looked like she was about to race back to the door and kangaroo kick me.
Slamming the door shut behind me, I leaned against it and laughed again, but the laugh ended in a groan. There’d been a moment where I’d seen what flickered behind the disbelief and anger in those soulful gray eyes. Hurt. Knowing that I’d hurt her feelings made the acid in my stomach churn.
Which was stupid, because last night, I’d considered an arson-assisted relocation plan and hadn’t felt guilty then. But that was before I saw her up close and all kinds of personal. Before I actually spoke to her. Before I realized her eyes were intelligent and beautiful.
Returning to the living room, I wasn’t at all surprised to find my sister standing in front of the TV, her slender arms crossed and green eyes burning. She looked just like that girl’s expression—like she wanted to kick me in the nuts.
I gave her a wide berth as I headed to the couch and dropped down on it, feeling a dozen years older than the eighteen I was. “You’re blocking the screen.”