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Chapter 4
THAD
“You really could wear a shirt on occasion,” Gage says as he walks into Alyssa’s old house—Roslyn’s current home.
I smirk over at him, glancing down at my modest attire—jeans and boots. Good enough.
“Roslyn will be back soon, and I’m going to make sure she gets another eyeful.”
I waggle my eyebrows, and he groans while sloshing through the small flood in the house.
“How the hell did this happen?” he asks, taking in the standing mess.
“The roommate tried to play plumber for something she dropped, but the water flow was ridiculous. Any chance there’s some residual magic here that Alyssa’s spells left behind? Something this bad could have only been caused by something less mortal.”
He studies the house for a minute, closing his eyes. Finally, he opens his eyes again and shrugs. “There’s some residual magic. I guess Alyssa didn’t clean it up as well as she thought.”
I motion around the house. “You gonna help me out?”
In less than a few seconds, the water is gone; the floors are clean, appearing freshly refurnished; and any damage the water might have done is gone.
“This is the easy stuff,” he says, offering me a lazy, proud grin, as I inspect the house. But he starts studying me. “What’s going on with you and this chick?”
My smile returns. “Nothing yet. She’s playing hard to get. But I’m me. I’ll win her over.”
He snorts out a laugh while leaning against the counter. “It’s been a while since I was in this house.”
“Yeah,” I say, my grin turning taunting. “The last time was when you were trying to get into Alyssa’s pants. Now you’re staying in her sister’s.”
He narrows his eyes at me, and I laugh. I love pissing him off.
“Real funny.” He shifts his attention to the old sofa Alyssa left behind years ago. Thanks to magic, it still looks brand new. “My view on life was distorted then. Kimber has changed pretty much everything I thought I knew. Alyssa and I were good, but Kimber and I are epic.”
Ah, hell. Is he really grinning and talking about girly shit? At least he’s not walking around in a depressing stupor.
“So what’s the deal with this girl you’re having me clean house for?” he asks.
“Roslyn Porter is her name.”
He stares expectantly. “And what’s her story?”
Shrugging, I explain, “Orphaned at infancy, parents unknown or presumed dead, and put into the system shortly after due to no other family members being available. She bounced around homes, ran away numerous times, fell off the grid between eighteen and twenty after finally getting out of the system, and now she’s in college full time. Despite her erratic living situation, she managed to maintain great grades all through school, and she has always had a job until the past two years.
“She doesn’t have any social media going on, her phone rarely gets used, she doesn’t have any bank accounts… I assume that’s because she has always been sort of isolated, and it’s made her not too trusting. This house is the first permanent investment she’s ever made.
“Her medical records prove she suffered abuse as a child, which is probably her reasons for her running away. You’d think she’d be a little less sweet, given her past. I guess that’s what has me so intrigued. She acts unjaded even though she’s faced a tough world. It means she’s pretty damn strong.”
Gage tilts his head, studying me like I’m a freak of nature or fucked up science experiment, and I shift uncomfortably. I don’t like that damn look in his eyes right now. And why the fucking hell did I just tell him all that?
“You’re cyber stalking her? I was just asking if she was into you, and I was curious about how into her you are. Apparently I’ve found my answer.”
I scowl at him. “You did that, didn’t you? You made me have fucking diarrhea of the mouth or some shit.”
His eyebrows cock up, and his knowing smile grows. “I don’t have that sort of spell. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been seducing another girl for information back when I was dating Alyssa—which got me dumped. Sounds like you just needed someone to talk to, buddy.”
The immature, mocking lilt to his voice isn’t the norm for him. Jackass dark user.
I’m not going to start talking about my motherfucking feelings with him like a couple of chicks. I can’t help it the girl has a story that has me intrigued. I can’t help it that she got under my skin that first night at the bar. But I can help how much I divulge.
