Figures that little Hattie Sage would grow up to be a huge book dork and a hot mess.
Emphasis onhot.
Yes, she’s filled out in all the right places, but I can’t figure out what it is about her when she’s nothing like my usual type.
It’s subtle, her attractiveness.
Hell, I didn’t notice when I stormed in like a runaway train. Didn’t even notice when her viper mother grabbed me and did her best to kill me with swamp juice.
Whatwasthat shit, anyway?
Tasted like I was drinking a frappe made from yard waste.
I sit on the sofa, adjusting Hattie so her legs are propped up, her head lolling against my shoulder. Her hair, long and blonde with natural curly waves I know Margot would kill for, tumbles across my arm and stomach.
Her mouth is partly open.
I don’t remember her lips being so full before, so inviting. Every man’s wet dream.
Christ, what if she already has a boyfriend?
Did Gramps ever plan for that complication?
“What now? What do I do?” I demand. Margot doesn’t look a bit concerned.
“Well, holding her until she wakes up again is a good start.” Margot heads into the kitchen to get her a glass of water. “And don’t yell at her, dickhead,” she calls back.
“Fuck off,” I mutter, adjusting Hattie’s head so she’s not in danger of straining her neck.
Her eyes flutter open from the movement, slowly widening.
So much green.
Deep, rich green with flakes of brown around her irises.
Her breath stutters as she looks up and tries to speak.
“E-Ethan?” she rasps.
I practically shove her up to get her off my lap.
Goddamn, what’s wrong with me?
“You fainted,” I tell her bluntly.
“You gotta stop doing that, Hatgirl,” Margot says, approaching with water and what looks like a granola bar. “Here, eat this.”
Hattie sends me a nervous look before taking a drink and accepting the snack. The glass clinks on her teeth.
I take the opportunity to scan her shoebox apartment.
It’s small and cluttered. The living room resembles more of a library back room than a real apartment. She has three large bookcases crammed into the small space and there are more books piled everywhere.
Literallyeverywhere.
At least they look organized, I guess.
Carefully arranged stacks, some piled up in cardboard boxes, a few tossed carelessly on the coffee table. It looks like an army of squirrels came digging for books instead of nuts in here.
