Page 21 of Wicked Me
I nodded, completely unsurprised. Sure, he could be an asshole behind her back but never to her face.
But if I could not fuck up for once, she would be fine. As long as I did whatever Hill asked, showed up on time, learned to detect rat poisonbeforeI got shot at, everything would be okay. Paige could continue to sit in the kitchen with me every night for the next six weeks with her hard nipples jutting against her Reading Is Sexy T-shirt. That would be just fine. I could pay the debt off within record time. Paige would never have to know.
I was such a selfish prick sometimes.
While turning the lock on the door, I started to shut it on Riley before he made it outside. “Nah. I’m not doing it either.”
6
Paige
HER NUMBER.
Mom’s email had slammed around inside my head the entire night, and that was just the subject line. True to the coward I was, I hadn’t even opened the email to read it. Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about it either. What was I supposed to do with her number? Yes, call her; that was the obvious answer. But what was I supposed to say that would make her want to speak to me, tokeepspeaking to me? My mind wandered to various scenarios while I reread page two hundred fifty-nine in my book for the twentieth time.
But a half-naked Sam plopped down on the couch. A freshly showered woodsy smell wafted around me.
He tucked a damp strand of blond hair behind his ear and reached for the remote on the coffee table. “All right if I watch TV?”
Despite my usual urge to turn feral and hiss at whoever dared disrupt my reading, I found myself nodding. It was his house; he shouldn’t even have to ask.
He sat so close, the left leg of his jeans grazed my bare toes. I swallowed at the feel of the fabric, at the specks of water still dotting the ridged muscle of his tanned skin, at the stunning pair of blue eyes pinned to mine.
Just as I was about to settle my feet on the floor, away from his jeans and his warmth, he flipped the channel to a zombie television show. A particularly brutal de-braining made me pause.
“This looks...appetizing,” I said, touching my hand to my stomach.
“You’re a fan?”
“Of spilled brain juices? Not usually, no.”
“You have to give it a chance. It’s not all blood and guts,” Sam said and stretched his arms along the back of the couch. “It’s an all-day-long marathon, so I’m not moving from this couch.”
And apparently he expected me to drop everything and do the same. Unlike slutty Paige who had been spellbound by him at the library yesterday, I wouldn’t do his bidding. I snapped my book shut on my bookmark, but he grabbed my ankle before I could move off the couch.
“Stay. Please,” he said, rocking his left leg so it covered more of my toes. His imploring stare instantly defused me because there was something so haunted in his eyes, something I couldn’t place. “At least for one episode.”
