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“What…?”

“The plans.”

“Oh. Right.” Jesus, girl.

Ronan stuffed the paper into the back pocket of his jeans and turned away from me to pick up the rake.

I took his empty Mason jar, leaving the other for him. He could drink it or not. What did I care?

But against my will, I glanced at him over my shoulder. My heart tripped to see he was stealing a glance at me too. We both looked away and I hurried into the house.

No, no, no. I do not get flustered.

Bibi was on the couch knitting, Lucy and Ethel curled around her feet.

“Well?” Bibi asked, not looking up. “Can we keep him?”

I coughed. “Yeah, he’s…fine. Goes to Central, turns out.”

“Oh?” Bibi’s needles flew. “Isn’t that something? I thought he seemed pretty young for a serial killer.”

“Right. So…I’ll be in the garage.”

I put the glass in the sink and hurried to the safety of my workshop to throw myself into my work—the ring I’d sketched that morning. A piece for my eventual shop.

I rummaged in a bag of semiprecious gemstones I’d ordered from a wholesaler that had cost me a semiprecious fortune. I imagined the coils of metal would hold something vibrant and rich. Malachite, maybe.

I found myself reaching for the smoky quartz instead.

“Stop,” I scolded myself. “He’s hot. There. You admitted it. Now get back to work.”

But Jalen Jackson was hot too and he’d fallen out of my thoughts the minute I left New Orleans.

Ronan Wentz was…

Something unexpected.

And I was going to have this guy at my house, in my class at school. Every day. Inescapable.

Nothing can stand in your way. Not one thing.

I put the gray stone back in the bag.

Chapter Four

I dragged the rake through the weeds as Shiloh started back for the house. I snuck a final glance as if to convince myself a girl like that was fucking real and not a mirage or an Egyptian queen in the flesh. Hundreds of black braids fell around the light brown skin of her shoulders that glowed in the late afternoon sun, that light glinting off the bracelets and rings she’d probably made herself.

Christ, she was beautiful, her dark eyes soft but sharp with intelligence. And guarded. She didn’t give anything away for free. You had to earn this girl’s time and trust…and would probably feel like a fucking king if you did.

My stupid heart stopped as she glanced back at me. Our eyes met, sparking a jolt to my chest. We both looked away quickly, and she disappeared into the house, her dress sliding like water over her body.

I hacked at the ground mercilessly.

“Fuck my life.”

I didn’t need this torture. The house, the yard, the goddamn lemonade. It was already too much. And now Shiloh…

Forget her. No more conversations or asking personal shit. No more nothing.

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