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I’ve never reacted this intensely to a woman I’ve just met. The fact that I haven’t dated in over three years could explain it, but I know it’s more than that. It’s Teagan. She arouses something in me, an all-consuming need to protect and defend.
She meets my gaze straight on for the first time. My resolve cracks like thin ice over deep water; one more step from either of us and we’ll both go down.
There’ll be no stopping me from ripping those little shorts off and putting my mouth on her.
I cage my tongue behind my teeth and remind myself that I can’t just throw her on the bed and claim her. Not with my sister waiting downstairs with the birthday cake.
That reminds me: yesterday was Teagan’s birthday. She’s eighteen years old.
Thank the fucking Lord she didn’t show up at my house two days ago.
“You’re welcome,” I tell her.
Walking away from her is like slowly ripping off a Band Aid and pulling out hair. Still, I force my feet to move in the direction of the open door, away from Teagan’s tight body and angelic face.
At the last second, I glance back to tell her, “Happy birthday.”
Her mouth twitches at the corners like she’s trying to remember how to smile.
Chapter Five
Teagan
When Mary said she was going to find me a place to stay, I figured she meant another group home, or a co-worker with a fold-out couch in their den. But the house we pulled up to was nice. Really nice. Nicer than any house I’ve ever stayed in.
The other homes in this neighborhood are just as big and probably just as impressive on the inside, but as soon we turned into the driveway, this one felt different. It wasn’t just the little things, like the small stained-glass windows above the garage, and the silvery gray roof shingles that reminded me of mermaid scales.
It was the man inside.
Jonah Parkes is unlike any man I’ve ever met.
First of all, he’s a literal giant. I’m sure he could snap me in half like a piece of dry spaghetti if he wanted to, but unlike a lot of bigger guys, he doesn’t go out of his way to make me feel weak or small. First meetings in a new placement tend to go one of two ways: either they bombard you with invasive questions, or slam you with the house rules like they know you’re going to break them.
Meeting Jonah isn’t like that at all. He’s welcoming without being pushy, polite without seeming fake. Happy to let his sister do most of the talking, speaking up only when he has something important to say—like wishing me a happy birthday.
It usually takes a few days to get a read on someone, and even then, you can never really know if they’re a creep until they show their true colors. But Jonah doesn’t seem like a creep. If anything, he’s the kind of guy creeps should be scared of. He doesn’t make me nervous, not even when I notice him watching me at the dining table. Though I kind of wish he’d turn his gaze someplace else, so he doesn’t have to witness me scarfing cake like a starving animal.
I haven’t eaten anything since last night’s small soda and fries.
When Mary asks if I want a third piece of cake, I’m tempted to say yes, but I don’t want to embarrass myself. Without a word, Jonah disappears into the kitchen. He comes back a few minutes later holding a grilled cheese sandwich, which he sets in front of me.
I stare at the sandwich in disbelief. Somehow, Jonah saw through my pretenses without seeing through me. I can’t remember the last time someone made me dinner—I mean somethingjust for me. Meals at the group home don’t count because they’re made for everybody. This stranger realized exactly what I needed, and then brought it to me, without me having to ask for it.
“Thanks, Jonah.” Mary shoots him a curious—but not disapproving—look and then turns to me. “Sorry about that, Teagan. I was so caught up worrying about the cake, I forgot to make sure you’d eaten.”
I take a tentative bite of the sandwich. The cheese is warm and gooey, the bread crisp on the outside yet still soft.
Mary asks Jonah about his work as I eat my dinner. I guess he’s in construction. Looking at the two of them, side by side, there’s no doubt that they’re related. They not only sport the same dark hair and olive-toned complexion, but also the same dark-green eyes.
When I’m finished eating, Mary suggests I head upstairs to settle in before she hits the road. She obviously wants to talk to Jonah in private. I leave them in the dining room, but don’t go far.
“I really appreciate you doing this,” she says quietly. “I know you were against the idea at first, but I think this could work out.”
“We’ll see,” Jonah says.
I flinch, though I have no reason to take his reluctance personally. Why should he be enthusiastic about some random girl coming to stay at his house? I’m nothing to him. Just a favor for his sister.
Whatever. As soon as my uncle’s ready to leave, I’ll be out of his hair, and his house, forever.
