Page 28 of Siren's Game

Even my clueless ass knows they stand for something sincere, and apparently, that’s where I draw the line.

Kayla intrigues me, I know that much by now. At times she seems to be an open book, other times she seems like she'd catch your fingers between her pages and cut off circulation until they fall off. And I want to pry her open. Browse through all of her pages, chapter by chapter, until I understand her.

She's headstrong and sure of herself, yet as she stormed out of the car, she seemed anything but. Annoyance and anger aside, she seemed . . . lost.

I don't know how better to describe it. She might have seemed confident to an outsider, but to me, she looked like the ground had just disappeared under her feet. It made me want to keep her, take her back to my place with me until she felt better again.

I tell the woman at the front desk my name and she lets me right through, even calling the elevator for me with a little console on her desk.

The pizza and flowers are grounding weights in my hands as the elevator climbs higher and higher, so fast I get a bit dizzy, until it comes to a stand on the second highest floor.

"Over here," I hear her soft voice just as I step out of the metal box.

Kayla is standing in her doorframe, wearing cotton jogging pants and a tank top and I let my eyes wander over her, just for a fraction of a second.

Something is different about her today.

"Hi," I say awkwardly and step closer. Do I greet her with a hug? Handshake? Well, that might prove difficult with all that stuff in my hands, so we stand awkwardly in front of each other.

Kayla eyes the contents of my hands curiously, then wordlessly steps aside to let me in.

"These are for you," I say and hand her the bouquet. Her eyebrows shoot up her forehead and disappear behind her bangs as she accepts them. "And my mom says 'hi'. She made this one and hopes you like it."

"That's lovely of her," Kayla murmurs, clearly confused, and turns around, leaving me standing in her entrance hall as she presumably searches for something to put them into. I toe out of my shoes and walk to where she disappeared around a corner, setting down the pizza on the kitchen counter as I watch her.

I can't put my finger on it, but something about her seems different.

"The internet said you like spinach on your pizza so that's what I got you," I tell her and open the boxes, a heavenly aroma of tomato sauce and cheese hitting my nostrils. "Hope that’s okay."

"It's one of the few things the internet got right about me." She's basically talking to the bouquet as she situates it in a big glass. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." I get up and randomly open her cupboards, looking for plates and cutlery.

But when I turn around, she has her butt perched on one of the barstools of her kitchen counter and is already digging into the pizza, a piece in one her hand, the other hand held under her chin to catch any pieces that fall down.

"What?" she asks with a full mouth when she catches me staring at her with a grin.

"Nothing." I swallow a chuckle and shake my head at her as I take two glasses out of her cupboard.

This is . . . different from the times we’ve met before. There’s no open hostility. Yet. She seems much more relaxed about everything, meanwhile today I’m the one who’s a bit on edge.

“What do you want?” I hold the glasses up and raise my eyebrow.

"Just some tap water, please. But there's lemonade in the fridge if you want some."

"Tap water's fine." I fill the glasses up and return to the counter where she's already gulfing down her second piece of pizza. God, that woman. Surprising me again and again.

I eye her, tilting my head as I try to find out what about her has changed. It’s like doing a ‘find the difference’ puzzle, but it’s bugging me.

Then it finally hits me.

"Your hair is wavy."

She looks at me with an expression that says 'what the fuck?' and continues eating, only moving her eyes my way until she swallows her bite.

"No shit, Sherlock. You only realized now?" But the smile tugging at the corner of her lips tells me she finds it amusing. “I’m also wearing glasses.” My eyes grow wide. “Just in case you’re wondering what else is different.”

"Right. Sorry, I'm obviously not the best at noticing details." I chuckle, and she subtly shakes her head at me, a string of cheese connecting her mouth to the pizza. She pulls it with her fingers until it tears.

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