Page 10 of Seale the Deal

Calm down, Canada. You’re about two seconds from giving yourself a heart attack.

I adjust my grip, resisting the urge to drop her right back where I found her as she demands I put her down.

Seriously? This is the woman who wants to move to Alaska? She can’t even hack being in my front yard for two minutes.

I want to die on Canadian soil, she whines, and I once again roll my eyes as I open my front door and deposit her in the entrance. She stumbles, then spins around, ready to yell some more, but stops dead when our eyes meet.

Her mouth drops open.

Mine might, too, if I weren’t trying to hold on to my last scraps of dignity after witnessing what might’ve been the most ridiculous display of panic I’ve ever seen.

Because while I remember her being dramatic, I also remember thinking she was beautiful, particularly her eyes. They’re brown, but they have this golden shine that makes them even more brilliant and hypnotizing. Now that she’s standing in my entryway, unencumbered by layers of winter gear, she looks incredible. Her curls are wild, her cheeks flushed, and her chest is rising and falling like she just outran a pack of wolves. And yet—

Beautiful. Still completely unhinged. But gorgeous.

And those eyes, wide, warm, and brown, are blinking up at me like I’m the surprise here.

Oh, she breathes.

A beat.

It’s you.

My brow arches. Who exactly were you expecting to find at my house?

I don’t know, she says, brushing her striped shirt down. A bear?

Wouldn’t I have been furry, then?

Not if you grabbed me with your mouth.

I’d still be furry. I tilt my head. And you’d be wet.

Well, she says, crossing her arms, that’s presumptuous.

I blink once because I have no idea what the correct response to that is.

Wrenley, apparently deciding silence means she made her point, whatever that is, lifts her chin. Anyway, it’s nice to see you again, Ruger. Your bats are evil.

They seemed to like you fine when they were all over you.

All the blood drains from her face.

They actually touched me?

Shit. Bad joke.

For real? she squeaks.

No, I say immediately.

Unfortunately, she’s already spiralling.

Oh my God. She starts brushing frantically at her shirt and jeans. What if they bit me? Do bats bite people? I feel like they bite people. They’re basically flying disease goblins.

They didn’t bite you.

I need a decontamination shower!