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“No! I can’t. You haven’t helped me with my paper.” He pulls a folded pile of papers out of his back pocket and throws it on the coffee table.
“Dude, read your own paper.”
“Totally defeats the purpose. You were always better than me with this kind of shit.”
I zone out as I stare at the papers. “What do you think she meant when she said she wasn’t into average guys?”
“We’re back to this? I don’t know. Why don’t you call her and ask?”
“I don’t have her number!”
“Again, Hannah. Real resourceful, that one.”
Fuck. The last thing I want to do is involve Hannah. Who the hell knows who she’ll tell. Or if she’ll even give me her number. Those two were really close as kids, but Hannah is such a damn softy. She’ll probably just lecture me about how big of a dick I am and then tell Levi. And I don’t need anyone else knowing about this.
Then again, what are my other options?
I roll my eyes and flip him off. He smiles like a goddamn idiot while I jump on my phone.
“S’up, Hannah? It’s your bestie, Ben. . .”
Chapter7
Makayla
“Look what we have here.”I twist in the pool, finding Chase, Hannah’s brother’s friend, walking toward us, Levi and Kip behind him. My eyes roll to the back of my head when I spot Ben.
“Get lost, Chase. I already called the pool today. Kipley, I’m going to tell Mom.”
“Chill, Hannah Banana, we’re not here to mess with you.”
Kipley slaps Chase against the chest. “Leave her be. We’re just getting the hockey stuff out of the shed.”
Hannah swims to the other side of the pool to grab a pool noodle, and I keep my eyes on my target. It’s true what they say: never turn your back on the enemy.
“You taking a swim, duckling? Show us how you flap your wings.” I close my eyes and twist my head as Ben tosses a blow-up ball in the pool, splashing next to me.
“No thanks, turd breath. But I would recommend you take a dip to wash off. I can smell your conceited stench from here.”
His brows crease. Point for me. If he thinks he can intimidate me, he’s wrong. He walks over to the edge of the pool and kneels. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Sorry. Not gonna get me in the water with you.” He starts to stand but stops. “And I reek of popularity—something you would never know about. It's a shame you don't have a choice. You can't wash off ugly, duckling.” He stands, his stupid sneer spreading across his face, then walks off to follow his friends.
* * *
I straighten the flowers in the vase and look around, making sure everything is as tidy as possible. I know two things for certain: I’m pretty sure my father hasn’t lifted a finger since I left, and all the bleach I used burned about ten layers of skin off my fingertips. On the upside, I could probably get away with murder. I look around, feeling confident someone will make an offer today during the open house. Doing a total demo would have been the better option, but I settled for bleaching, dusting, and fluffing whatever pillows didn’t have cigarette holes. I grab my information sheet for anyone with questions. “Whew, girl, you got this.”
The doorbell rings, and I whip my head up. “Showtime.” I inhale a deep breath and smooth down my skirt. “Don’t overtalk. Let the house sell itself.” I make my way to the front door and open it with a huge smile. “Hello, and welcome—what the hell areyoudoing here?”
Ben Wallace takes up the entire space of my front step. Unlike the last time I saw him in his work gear, today he’s dressed in a black V-neck, accentuating every muscle, and a pair of distressed jeans. Not to mention the sinful smile across his stupid sexy face. “I’m here for a tour.”
“Fat chance,” I scoff and attempt to slam the door in his face, but he stops it with his foot.
“Now, now. Other people are pulling up. You wouldn’t want to scare off any potential buyers by being unprofessional and rude, would you?”
That bastard. My eyes swing to the couple walking toward us. I can’t risk turning away possible buyers. I bring my searing gaze back to Ben. “I swear to God, if you pull anything, I will do more than tie you up and leave you for dead.”
“Ah. . . your intentionswereto leave me for dead—”
“Would you be quiet?” I hiss. “Hello! Welcome. Come in and look around. There are fresh baked cookies in the kitchen.” I hand them a brochure and step aside as they enter. I turn my back to Ben, hoping he leaves, but no luck. He walks in, stopping behind me, and I pretend I don’t feel his steel pecs pressed against my back. I almost jump out of my skin when he leans in, his lips barely brushing my ear.
