Page 18 of When The Rain Falls

"Relax, Papa bear," she says. "Why are you so tense? I don'tbite." If she grinned any wider, her head would split in two. My cheeks start to heat. Why amIembarrassed? She's the one who should be embarrassed. She's the one attacking innocent men on the mouth. But she's not ashamed at all. She's batting me around like a cat with a ball of yarn. I finally give in and rub my bottom lip.

“No, you just fall off bar tops,” I growl back at her. She snorts. I’ve never found a snort so attractive.

"Wait? Do you two know each other?" Greg looks up from his diffuser and glances between the two of us. He’s clearly not the brightest bulb in the box if he's just now figuring this out.

"I'm surprised you're standing today," I say to the menace standing in front of me. The menace with the enticing curl in her lips and the sassy sway in her hips. "You were pretty tanked last night."

"Oh." She waves me off with a dainty hand. "I wasn't that drunk."My ass.If she wasn't that drunk, she played drunk pretty damn well.

"Oh yeah?" I take another sip from my glass, forgetting that it tastes like garbage water. "So, tripping off bar tops. That's you being notthat drunk?"

Aimee's face scrunches in amusement as she laughs again. She sets her can on the counter and pops a hip against it. "Exactly. If I was tanked, then I wouldn't remember things. Like when you called me hot." Greg looks at me, his eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. I can feel my cheeks flush.

"Hotmess," I clarify, for Aimee and Greg both. "I called you a hot mess. And that's exactly what you were." Aimee just laughs again.

“Aimee,” Greg says, “if you’re going to live here, you’re going to?—”

“Wait, live here?” I cut in. “You,” I point to her, “livehere?” I point to the ground. Fuck. I’m in so much fucking trouble.

“Yep,” Aimee says, completely satisfied with herself. "For now."

“For a little while,” Greg corrects.

“Alicia said I could stay as long as I want,” Aimee responds. “She said it would be good for me.” Aimee takes a sip of her sparkling water and makes a loud, satisfying slurp sound. I swear there’s a little devil dancing in her eyes.

"What about the hotel?" I ask her. Why would she stay in a hotel if she’s living here? That makes no sense.

“Slight detour,” she says, waving my question away. "And thanks for the critique of my backside. I’m adding squats to my strength training routine. You know, so I can have arealass. Hopefully next time you won’t be so offended if I dance in your face.”

Goddammit. Now that she’s mentioned her ass, that’s all I can think about. The way her rounded backside moved in those jeans. The hint of a black thong peeking out through the dip in the band of her jeans. It was downright criminal. I couldn’t have moved from my barstool even if I had wanted to. Not without the lower half of my body being extremely ungentlemanly.

Not that I could have done anything about it. The second I got her alone, I’d have gone limp as fucking string cheese.My dickis kind of a dick.

"There won’tbea next time,” I say dumbly. Because I can’t say the things I’m actually thinking. Saying those things out loud would makeeven meblush.

I pinch the bridge of my nose with my fingers and close my eyes. I let out a deep, focused breath and hand my glass to Greg. Because I can only control my sex-starved brain for so long.

"I've got to get Ruby," I mutter to no one in particular. “Assuming she's still in one piece." I flick my eyes to Aimee. She's still grinning, like right this very minute she's tallying the number of souls she's snatched for the devil today. How can someone grin so much?

I try to squeeze past Aimee, angling my shoulders to scoot past her without having to make contact. She doesn't give up any ground. She just stands there, one hand on her hip, taking up as much space as possible. It forces me to edge up against the wall to gain sufficient clearance. Although the only truly sufficient clearance would be calculated in miles. Aimee watches me with great amusement.

"Excuse me," I say as I successfully slip by, unscathed by contact.

Her lips part in a wide grin and she laughs. This laugh is wild and vibrant. Like the cheerful yet ear-splitting whistle of a dolphin. I’ve only met this woman twice and her laughter is already starting to worm its way into my brain.

7AND NOT A HO

AIMEE

I jumpout of bed and nearly trip on the pile of clothes scattered across the floor. I should probably start using the dresser in this room at some point. But it's easier to find things when they're spread out.

I slip into my favorite fuzzy socks and happily float my way downstairs to the kitchen. When I feel the wooden hallway floor beneath my feet, I can't help it. I take a running start and slide into the kitchen, holding my hands out in front of me like I'm on a surfboard. I laugh as the stainless-steel fridge stops my momentum.

I'm about to pull on the handle when I see the calendar stuck to the front with a large Disneyland magnet. It's already September. I love September. Everything good happens in September. The leaves change. The air turns crisp. It’s just one month away from Halloween. Which is, by far, the best holiday. Also, my big race is in September. The one I've been training for all year.

I still can’t believe the hot man from the bar turned out to be Alicia’s neighbor. Of course this happened. It’s like all the consequences of my past bad decisions are creeping up on me at once. Bad decisions like going home with every hot man whooffers to buy me a drink. And biting trolls at bars. Trolls who turn out to be my neighbor.

Luckily, dads aren't my type. Too many strings. Too much baggage. I won’t even be tempted. Probably. Maybe. Ok, just a little tempted.

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