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He huffs. “Listen, I could say I don’t have time for this, but realistically speaking, I have all day.” He smirks.

“So do I,” I tease.

The man takes a step forward, and my breath catches as he invades my space. I wait in anticipation as I feel his breath against my cheek. He leans into my ear and my mouth goes dry. My heart pounds rapidly at his closeness while my brain and body are at war with each other.

“You know what I think? I think you’re playing me, princess. Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll leave you alone. But if I’m right, you get to let me walk you home.”

I shiver at his words. He’s right, but that can’t be true because I’m never wrong. How dare he call me out on my shit. We don’t even know each other like that. I start to pout and immediately correct myself.

“Fine, but you don’t get to comment on where I live, and you’re not coming in.” I say sternly.

I can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “I can’t wait to watch you walk away.”

CHAPTER 3

ATTICUS

Idon’t know what it is about this chick that’s got me acting like a dumbass, but I don’t like it.

I don’t hate it either.

I slowly pull away and tip my chin down, gesturing for this firecracker of a woman to lead the way. She rolls her eyes at me, and I know I’m burrowing my way under her pale, olive-toned skin. I watch as her five-foot-one frame practically glides down the sidewalk. She’s wasting no time getting away from me.

Her thick hair falls halfway down her back in a milk-chocolatey waterfall, threaded with natural strawberry-blonde highlights woven through loose ringlets and defined waves. All of her is plush and pillowy and radiates power. She doesn’t need to remove her clothes for me to see her curves that demand space and muscles that prove what her body is capable of—that she’s earned them.

She stops mid-stride and pivots toward me, interrupting my thoughts. She looks nervous at first until she clocks me, and then I watch as her face turns strawberry red. Disregarding her tell, she speaks loudly, trying to make sure I hear her over the traffic and the wind.

“I thought you were walking me home?”

God, she’s such a brat. A brat with a full chest and, I'm assuming no ass, since it seems she’s using that to add some spice to her already heated personality.

“I am,” I reply, entertained.

“You stalking behind me feels predatory. Can you stop being weird and walk next to me? There’s still plenty of room on the sidewalk.”

She twirls away from me, tapping her foot impatiently as she waits for me to catch up. I ignore the slight jab at herself, and I’m next to her within seconds. My long legs make for quick trips.

Fuck. Even when she’s impatient and annoyed, her eyes look like an ocean-blue tsunami being engulfed by an eerily gray sky. The tiny black freckle dotted on her left iris reminds me that I am also being swallowed by her storm.

We move side by side—barely. It’s like playing bumper cars in a busy parking lot. We attempt to weave in and out of the people, simultaneously clashing into each other every couple of feet. Downtown is always chaotic no matter what day it is, and it doesn’t calm down until that part of the night where the quiet is the loudest and the fireflies flicker in tandem with the streetlights.

She points to the right, and I glance at what seems to be a worn-down diner with one of those seventies-style light bulb signs, reading “Dave’s.” I instantly know where we are, and my stomach drops. In between the restaurant and some touristy store, I see a metal door covered in peeling red paint secured against the building and a dingy white screen door fly open from the buckling side. A lanky woman with blonde and black dreads comes bursting out from behind it, followed by skittering rats. She looks like a real-life, hippie-but-modern Cruella de Vil. The crowd closest to the door startles and shrieks before quickly dispersing. I watch, confused, as the panic-stricken woman immediately whips her head our way and starts incessantly squawking when her eyes land on my Strawberry Girl.

“Jesus, Lyr, where the hell have you been? You said nothing about leaving the apartment when we were on the phone earlier. I’ve been worried out of my mind!”

She sounds exasperated. This wild one needs to take a chill pill.

“I apologize, Dee. I felt extremely bored. The library’s the only place I visited today, I swear.”

Why does the woman who’s captivated me so much and seems to have no problem with telling me off, cower as soon as her friend appears?

There will be no cowering with me. Only submission.

The library girl peers up at me through thick lashes, and I can’t decipher her expression. Does she want me to stay? The penny drops when I haven’t asked her for her name or why she’s living above a rundown diner infested with rats. The last time I was here was the last time this place was liveable.

I hold my index finger toward Cruella before I motion, silently asking her to zip it. She scoffs, and I swear her eyes could burn holes through my soul at my insistence on silence.

“Listen, I’ll get out of your hair, but can you at least tell me your name?”