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Fuck. "Sure." Why was my voice about two octaves too high?
While he leapt over the wall easily—show-off—I rushed inside, dashing to the bedroom to toss the bag of contraband in the corner, and then ran back to open the sliding glass door to let them both in.
Stepping inside and taking a glance around, I heard him mutter, "How the hell am I going to find anything in this mess?"
His annoying comment helped take away my nerves. "Hey! By Sunday, it'll be spotless."
"Right, right. Sunday is cleaning day." He carefully lifted some clothes off the kitchen table, looking underneath for Magic's collar. "Is that why I hear you singing at full blast every Sunday?"
I paused from peeking under the couch to look at him. "What? You can hear me singing?"
"Yep. Loud and clear. But no music. It's strange."
Fighting the embarrassment, I returned to peering under the couch, searching for Magic's collar. "Because I use headphones. Unlike some people," I huffed.
"Well, excuse me for liking the total immersive experience."
"Yeah, I'm sure all your neighbors do too, especially the family below you."
"I'm sure they do." He moved into the kitchen to check the counters. "For what it's worth, I like the songs you sing... kind of that '90s SoCal alternative rock vibe."
That made me smile as I rifled through the clutter piled on a chair in the far corner of the room. "That's my dad's favorite music. I grew up on it."
Josh and I both paused in our quest to look at each other, that understanding in his eyes again.
Quickly, I glanced away. "Um, I'll go check the bedroom," I said.
A moment later, as I shook out the comforter, I heard a noise behind me and gasped. Of course it was just Josh. But damn, he couldn't come in here. Not so close to the forbidden goods.
"Wow, you're jumpy," he said, holding up the collar, jangling the dog tags together. "Found it under your table."
"Oh, whoops. Sorry about that. I just take it off so the noise doesn't wake me up."
"I hear ya. No worries."
He shot me a strange look while I wrung my hands together, my eyes darting to the bag so close to where he was standing. And of course, the flip-flops were practically overflowing from the small bag. The dude couldn't have given me two bags?
"You're acting weird today," he said, his gaze moving to the very thing I hoped to keep hidden.
Holy crap! I was busted.
His sudden laugh burst through the room, bouncing off the walls and surrounding me.
"Jessica," he said, drawing out my name as his bright eyes met mine, a lopsided grin on his smug face. "Do you have something you want to tell me?"
"Um, um."
His eyebrows raised sky-high. "So when did you buy those? Huh? And how long were you going to hide them from me?"
Damn. I supposed it was time to come clean. "So I might have a confession."
All he did was laugh again, picking up the bag and heading into the living room, making himself comfortable on my couch. Following him slowly, I watched while he took each pair out, making a show out of inspecting them, clearly enjoying himself.
"Exactly how many did you buy?" he asked as Magic came rushing over to sniff the new merchandise.
"Maybe four pairs?" I squeaked.
"Four pairs? Seriously?" He laughed and began to line them up on the coffee table. "Okay. So you owe me four games then."
