Page 19 of Don't Call Me Sweetheart

Oh god. I had misread everything. Let the floor open up and swallow me, please.

“I mean, no, I’m not not attracted to you,” she said hastily. “So, yes, I’m attracted to you.”

I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well…good.”

“Good,” she echoed. Then blinked. “Why? Why is it good?”

“Because I don’t think my pride could take it otherwise. I’d have to resign as principal. Maybe change my name. Definitely move to a new country. Take up a hobby. Spearfishing might be nice.”

“Spearfishing,” she repeated.

“Yeah. Something manly.”

She laughed. I ducked my head and smiled at the bar top, feeling pleased with myself. She was attracted to me, and I made her laugh.

A beer was set down in front of me. I looked up. “Thanks.”

“Hm.” The bartender crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, then cocked his head at Kate. “Is this guy bothering you, sweetheart?”

I met Luke’s open distrust with a baleful stare. Suddenly I was a sullen fifteen-year-old again, being interrogated on the true authorship of his A+ English essay. It was tempting to throw a few bucks on the counter—because even when I was pissed, I wasn’t a thief, and of course I would add a tip—and storm out of the bar. Maybe knock over the barstool on my way out, but probably not, because they looked handmade, and I appreciated the craftsmanship.

So instead, I crossed my own arms, mimicking Luke, and fumed silently. Like a fucking child.

And then I felt a warm, gentle pressure on my knee.

I looked down.

Kate’s hand.

“No, Luke, he isn’t bothering me.” Kate managed to sound both kind and exasperated. “This is Max Darlington, the new principal of Jessica’s school.”

Luke’s expression thawed considerably. He studied me a moment longer. “Have I seen you before?”

I considered ignoring the question out of sheer petulance, but Kate squeezed my knee and I took that as a command. “I was here last week. I rented a room for a couple nights.”

“Right.” Luke shrugged. “We get a lot more unfamiliar faces these days. Well, beer’s on the house. Welcome to Hart’s Ridge.”

I shook my head at Luke’s retreating back. “Thanks.”

“It’s not you, it’s me. Everyone thinks I need protecting from—” Kate waved her hands in a wide circle “—everything, I guess. Don’t be offended.”

“I’m not.”

“Sure.” She arched her brows, looking entirely unconvinced. “Okay, then.”

My knee felt slightly chilled after the loss of the warmth of her hand. It hadn’t been a sexual thing, her hand on my knee. She wasn’t flirting with me. It was more like…reassurance. Like we were on the same side. Like she had my back.

It was a new experience for me. I wasn’t entirely sure I liked it. My fight-or-flight instincts were triggered, and since I wasn’t much of a fighter, it left me twitchy with the need to move. To run away. Everything in me screamed it was a trap.

But.

Make a friend. Start with Kate.

My homework assignment from Josh. I had never, ever failed to turn in a homework assignment. Come hell or high water or foster parents shooting heroin at three a.m., I always got it done.

So, no. I wasn’t going to run away just because a nice woman touched my knee sympathetically. I was going to keep my ass on the barstool and take it like a well-adjusted man, dammit. I was going to make a friend.

Even if it felt like I might die from it.

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