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Someone was watc—
“God.”
Einstein was sitting on the edge of the coffee table just feet from where I lay on the couch, leaning so close to me that I could’ve counted the freckles splashed across her face.
“Your mouth,” she mumbled quickly as she sat back to take a bite of the cereal next to her on the table. “It looks so familiar.”
“So you’ve said,” I choked out, automatically shooting a hand toward her chest to keep her from coming too close when she began leaning forward again.
“Have you had any kind of fillers?”
“What? No, are you ser—no!” The hand not keeping her at arms-length swatted hers away when she tried to touch my lips. “What are you doing? People have boundaries.”
Her stare was unapologetic and mixed with the lingering confusion from whatever continued to plague her about my lips. “I don’t have those.”
“I’ve noticed,” I said through clenched teeth. “Could you respect that other people do and give me some space to breathe?”
A feminine laugh sounded from the other side of the room before Libby came into view. “Be happy you didn’t wake up to find her curled against you. Einstein likes to cuddle.”
“Only because I’m so great at it,” Einstein added as she lifted another spoonful of cereal to her mouth, her eyes still fixated on me.
She seemed excited almost, like she was having trouble sitting still as she studied my lips like she’d found something so rare. But there was something behind the excitement in her eyes that had my heart racing as I waited for it . . .
Waited for whatever she was silently worrying over.
“Only because you’re always freezing,” Libby countered.
“Yeah, that too.”
I looked between the two of them, then settled on Einstein. “Please let me sit up.”
As soon as she straightened, I pulled myself up into a sitting position and scooted back into the corner of the couch—away from Einstein. She followed my every move.
“Something about you,” she muttered softly, as if to herself, but Libby snorted.
“Don’t worry about Einstein. She thinks there’s something about everyone.” Tapping her temple twice with her middle finger, she rolled her eyes and whispered, “Poor girl. Her brain works so much faster than the rest of ours that she just can’t figure out how to be normal for five seconds.”
Einstein smiled as she took another bite of cereal, and lifted her shoulders in a quick jerk that said she wasn’t going to deny what Libby was saying. “I don’t think there’s something about everyone,” she argued around the mouthful of food and hurried to wipe milk as it dribbled down her chin.
Libby huffed. “Name one person you haven’t tried to study and pick apart in a way that only you can.”
?
?Well, I probably wouldn’t know their name, so how could I?”
“She practically grabbed our UPS delivery man every time he showed up so she could stare at him,” Libby informed me with a dry look.
Einstein pointed her spoon at Libby, but never lifted her stare from my mouth. “But I was right, wasn’t I? I told you I knew his eyes and the shape of his eyebrows . . . and I did.”
Libby shook her head, her tone apologetic. “We went to school with the poor guy’s nephew. He no longer delivers here. I can’t imagine why.”
I swallowed twice, trying to relieve the dryness there from sleep. “So, you have a thing with faces?”
Einstein’s eyes darted up to mine, her mouth curling up in a knowing smirk. “I have a thing for locks and codes and puzzles.” Her tone growing more eager as she spoke, her eyes now burning with excitement. “And that’s all people are. Their minds, their bodies, their features . . . they’re all puzzles.”
And she was fascinated with my mouth . . .
One of my most noticeable features that I couldn’t attempt to alter for a quick, simple disguise.
