Page 12 of Pretend You Love Me
She shrugs. “What’s your real name, or is it Grumpy?”
I just sneer.
“Oh it is, Grumpy,” she says. “Your parents had some real foresight. It suits you though.”
I don’t respond.
“What’s that short for anyway? Grumpasaurus? Grumpalumpagus? Grumpottamus?”
I narrow my eyes.
“I know Grumpy McGrumpface.”
I snort. That’s actually pretty funny.
“Is it like Voldemort? Am I not allowed to say it out loud?”
“Something like that,” I mutter as I cram several French fries in my mouth all at once. I check my watch again.
“Just leave,” she hisses. “If you don’t want to be here, don’t. It’s rude to keep checking your watch every five seconds.”
“It’s rude to call a stranger Grumpy McGrumpface,” I snap.
She snickers, and I honestly have a hard time not cracking a smile even though she’s pissing me off.
“Well, I don’t know your name, so...”
“I don’t know yours either,” I interrupt. Our eyes lock until the door opens, and there’s commotion by the front. I turn my head around to see Hawk coming inside.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
That’s the last thing I need right now. Maybe he won’t see us.
Ginger’s taking a long hard look at Hawk like it’s the first time she’s seen a man.Oh hell no, not on my watch.
Some sort of merciful deity is looking down on me because Hawk gets a call, and he’s out the door as fast as he arrived.
Well, that’s something.
I exhale dramatically, and she tilts her head and looks at me like I have six eyeballs.
She returns her gaze to the doorway. Her eyes linger for far too long, and I feel too many emotions bubble to the surface all at once. I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit. I need to remove myself from this woman’s presence as soon as possible. I don’t make good decisions in the presence of women who make me feel too many emotions all at once.
“Where are you staying?” I ask as I wave at Sadie for the check. The sooner I get her to her rental, the sooner I can return to my life.
“Be right there, Kip,” she calls.
“Kip,” Ginger says, her eyebrow arched. As soon as my name floats out of her mouth tingles run down my goddamn spine. I like the way it sounds. Christ, I really like it.
“Oh, I have a rental.” She pulls a piece of paper out of her bag and hands it to me. “If you could just drive me there, I’ll be out of your hair and...what’s wrong?”
I’m pinching the bridge of my nose. Why? Why the fuck is this happening?
“What is it?” she says again.
“This place doesn’t exist.”
“What? Of course it does. I’ve been messaging with the owner. I’ve paid for two months.”
