Page 13 of The Fangirl and the Grump

This is ridiculous. “Why would I want to kidnap you? Are you some kind of heiress, or something?”

“If I were, I wouldn’t tell a kidnapper, now would I?”

“I’m not a kidnapper,” I say, losing patience.

“Again, exactly what a kidnapper would say.”

“Do you want the card, or not? You’re staying here for two months, and the contact form on the site can be buggy.”

She doesn’t respond, and I wait several beats for her to make up her mind.

“You know, I could prove I own this place by entering the lock code and opening the door myself,” I add when she still doesn’t respond.

When she remains quiet, I shake my head and tuck the card into the door jamb like I’d intended to do in the first place. There’s no way I’m going to do what I threatened and unlock the door, myself. I start to turn, then pause when the deadbolt lock disengages. The door swings open, and the card falls to the porch before I can grab it.

Bending over, I pluck it from the welcome mat and straighten, my mouth opening to greet her properly. But the words get stuck in my throat as I get my first look at her.

Well, actually, mysecond.

It’s that woman, the one from the tavern. But unlike that night, she looks like hell warmed over. Her blonde hair is a mess, her makeup-free face is blotchy with swollen eyes and a red nose, and she’s wearing baggy sweats and a loose t-shirt that hide all those glorious curves I noticed before she called me––

“Wolf Daddy?” she whispers.

Fuck.

This.

Shit.

“Here,” I growl, shoving the card toward her.

As soon as she takes the card, I spin and stomp away without another word. My sudden departure must shock her, because she doesn’t speak as I jog down the steps and stalk to my truck. Climbing inside, I slam the door behind me and start the engine before jerking the shifter into reverse.

My traitorous eyes move back to the doorway, and I see her staring at me, her mouth open and her eyes wide, like she has no idea why I’d act this way.Fuck.She doesn’t know. How would she know I hate all that “Wolf Daddy” bullshit if I don’t tell her?

Maybe I should go back. Explain. Start over.

I start to push the lever to put the truck back into park, but before I can, her face screws up into an angry frown. Lifting both hands, she flips me off before stepping backward and slamming the door closed.

My shoulders drop as I heave a sigh.

“Great,” I murmur. “Just fucking great.”

ChapterSeven

Keegan

Iwalk out of the bedroom, freshly showered and feeling moderately human. After wallowing in my pity party all day yesterday, interrupted only by that unanticipated visit from my landlord––that one is a real piece of work––I managed to get some sleep and woke up this morning feeling restless.

What am I supposed to do now? Staying here seemed like the perfect idea when I came up with it, but I’m not sure I really thought it through. I can’t just sit in this house all alone for the next two months. I’ll go insane. I can see myself now, looking like some kind of wild animal in dirty, stained pajamas with tangled hair as I snack on junk food that makes my ass grow even bigger than it already is.

I shake my head to clear the image. That’s not going to happen. I won’t let myself wallow for another minute. I’m worth more than that.

And Madison, Sloan, and Pressley don’t deserve my heartache. They’re dead to me.

While kicking those backstabbing bitches out of here felt satisfying in the moment, I didn’t take into account that my actions left me stranded here with no car and no way to get home when my little sabbatical is over. I suppose I could take the bus, if there even is a bus stop in Evening Shade. But if there’s not, I don’t know what I’ll do.

I suppose I could call my parents…

---