When I don’t immediately respond, Sarah hits me with another doozy. “How do you feel about letting your youngest sister dictate who you date?”
Damn, I wish she’d pull her punches just this once. “She’s only trying to protect Jade.”
“From what?”
“From me.” Obviously.
“I see.” Sarah’s lips purse the way they always do when she disagrees with something, but since I’m paying her to listen, she can’t come right out and say it. “Do you plan on lying to Jade about your intentions?”
Technically, I already did the moment I said we’d be going out as “friends.”
“Are you going to disrespect her or treat her poorly?” Sarah goes on.
“Of course not.”
“Then why does your sister’s opinion on this situation matter more than yours or Jade’s?”
Sarah must be an only child if she doesn’t realize the line I’m crossing here. A line I have a feeling I’d cross again and again if it made Jade smile the way she did when I asked her to dinner.
Before I can answer, I catch a glimpse of the clock above the stove. Shit, I gotta get going. “Sorry, I have to run. Thanks for the chat, Sarah.”
“Think about what I said, Dylan.” She winks and adds, “And enjoy yourdate.”
The screen goes black before I can correct her.
I grab my leather jacket from the back of the chair and slip my arms into the sleeves on my way out the door. I guess I should ask Jade what she’s looking for from me before I assume she’s hearing wedding bells. I should also definitely remind her that I’m heading back to Austin soon, just in case.
If we both go into this with our eyes wide open, no one gets hurt. Right?
When I hit the bottom of the stairs, I fish my keys out of my pocket. The moment my boot crosses the threshold, it lands on a brown paper sack. Whatever’s inside the bag squishes like Ella’s playdough.Notwhat you want ground into the carpet.
I bend down to pick it up. The stench that assaults my nose makes me gag. Is that—shit?
I’m not being metaphorical, either.
Someone left a bag of shit on my fucking doorstep.
I scan my bike’s windshield for tickets signed by a certain jackass officer.
None today, thank god. Although, right now, I’d rather pay a fine than deal with shit on my boot. For all the hate I get around here, no one seems to despise me quite as much as Jade’s ex, so I assume the “present” is from him. What sort of grown-ass man leaves shit on someone’s stoop? If only I could prove Nate Williams was the culprit.
I slip out of my black leather boot to keep from tracking shit everywhere and hold the bag away from my nose as I carry it out to the public trash can at the corner. Then I head back inside to clean my boot and wash my hands, cursing the little prick the entire time. Now I’m going to be late picking up Jade, and I hate being late.
This has gone on long enough. First thing tomorrow, I’m calling my lawyer to see if there’s anything I can do about the harassment, and then look into getting cameras installed outside. I refuse to live the next couple of months looking over my shoulder because a little piss ant thinks I stole his girlfriend. Next time Officer Williams wants to leave me a present, I’m going to catch him red-handed.
I’m still irritated as hell by the time I pull into Jade’s driveway, but the moment her front door swings open, all the tension inside me uncoils. Still sitting on my bike, I tug off my helmet to get a clear view of the way her hair curls in soft waves against her cream-colored sweater. The high black boots over her tight jeans reach almost to her knees. I know I’m staring, but the only thought in my head is, “Let’s skip dinner, go inside, and strip out of these clothes.” And that can’t happen… can it?
King’s Code. Remember the code.
Jade’s smile warms her face. “You’re late.”
Grimacing, I curse Nate for the hundredth time. “Sorry. I had some unexpected shit to deal with.” To keep my hands busy, I stand up and lift the seat to unhook the spare helmet while Jade locks her front door. When she reaches me, the faint vanilla of her perfume tickles the back of my tongue.
I hold out the helmet. “I have this, but we can take your car if you don’t want to mess up your hair.”
“Are you kidding me?” She snags the helmet right out of my hand. “I’ve been dying to ride that since I saw it on Main Street.”
“We’re still talking about the bike, right?” I say with a wink, sinking back onto the seat.
