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If that doesn’t scare the man off, nothing will.
It doesn’t scare him off.
“I completely understand. I’m just here to watch the game with your father.”
“Game? My father doesn’t watch games.”
Beckett shrugs. “I’m originally from St. Louis; I’m a huge Cardinals fan.”
“Still doesn’t explain what you are doing here? Don’t you have your own television to watch the game on?”
“No, actually,” Beckett grins.
My father shrugs and walks over to the living room; he hands Beckett a beer.
“You should eat, Katherine. I’ve made all your favorites and put them in the fridge,” my uncle says before him and Beckett become engrossed in the game.
I walk over to the fridge because my stomach growls. My uncle doesn’t know any of my favorite foods. But when I open the fridge and peer inside, I see all of my favorites—tacos, lasagna, macaroni and cheese, enchiladas.
I stare at my uncle sitting on the couch with Beckett. I really don’t understand him. Could he have really had a change of heart?
I warm up the lasagna and decide to watch the game with them. It will distract me from my nightmare.
The game is boring.
Beckett tries to make jokes. I think he’s flirting, but I can’t be sure as I haven’t had another man flirt with me in a long time. But the more he flirts, the angrier I get.
My uncle keeps smiling smugly between the two of us every time Beckett says something funny or gets me to crack the tiniest of smiles. I will admit, Beckett is funny. And I get a warm feeling when I’m around him. But he’s nothing compared to Enzo.
The game finally ends.
“Well, that was boring. Thanks for coming over to watch the game, Beckett. Don’t bother coming over to watch the game again. We won’t be watching any more Cardinals games,” I say, trying to be as mean and snarky as possible.
Of course, it just makes mister smiley grin. “I had a good time too, Kai.”
He called me, Kai, not Katherine, even though my uncle called me Katherine the entire time we were watching the game. My suspicions are growing about this guy.
“Goodbye, Beckett,” I say.
“Goodbye, Kai.”
Beckett leaves. I walk to the door and look into the peephole to make sure he leaves.
And then I turn my anger on my uncle.
“What the hell was that?” I yell.
My uncle narrows his eyes. “You are going to have to be more specific with what you are angry with me about. Since you are angry with me about everything lately.”
“Beckett. Why did you invite him over?”
“Because you had been asleep for three days, and he’s my friend, and I knew he wanted to watch the game, so I invited him over. It’s my house, and I wasn’t sure if you were going to leave your bedroom or not.”
I glare. “Why did you invite him over? Does her work for the Black organization?”
“What? Of course not.”
I cross my arms. “Then why did you invite him over? Was that a setup? A date?”
