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He frowned. “What are you talking about, woman?”
“Your t-shirt.” I pointed toward his chest. “It’s on backward.”
“It’s not—shit.” He threw down his keys, pulled his arms out the sleeves, hiking the material up around his neck to switch it around. “There, all better.” A lazy grin tugged at his mouth as he shoved his arms through the sleeves.
“You really are—” I stopped myself. I didn’t want to start a silly rivalry between the two of us.
So he’d said a few things about me? He hadn’t been overly mean. He had a physical preference, and I wasn’t it.
Big deal.
He was a hockey player, and that one hundred percent wasn’t my type. I’d been there, done that, and gotten the heartbreak to end all heartbreaks.
“Go on, shortstack.” Noah leaned against the counter, arms folded over his ridiculously broad chest, and smirked. “Tell me what you really think of me.”
Irritation bubbled up inside of me, like hot lava flowing out of a volcano. “Please don’t call me that,” I said calmly, forcing myself not to pick up the spatula lying on the counter and throw it at his head.
“What, shortstack? Seems pretty fitting if you ask me.” His smirk morphed into a cheeky grin.
God, he was too much for this time in the morning. Even in his messy, just-rolled-out-of-bed state, he still looked good enough to walk onto a GQ photoshoot and give it his all. His dark hair, curled slightly on top, fell into his eyes a little. Rich brown eyes that danced with bad intentions and a strong, chiseled jaw and cheekbones most women only dreamed of.
He wasn’t quite as tall as Connor and my brother, but he carried more muscle, his biceps practically bulging out of his black fitted t-shirt. Swirls of ink peeked out from underneath the material and ran down his forearm.
Noah Holden was the kind of guy who would break your heart and skate right over it with a smile and a wink.
A mistake I’d made one too many times already.
A mistake I would never make again.
“Yes, well,” I cleared my throat, uncomfortable with the way he looked at me. The intensity in his gaze. “It’s early, and I’m not a morning person. So feel free to go take a shower or go back to bed.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me… In my own house?” Disbelief coated his voice. “Because we might need to lay down some ground rules, short—”
“I swear to God, Noah.” I inhaled a thin breath, pinning him with a seething look. “If you call me that one more time, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”
“Relax.” His hands went up in defense. “I’m joking with you. Listen, Austin asked me to show you around town; give you the Holden lowdown. What do you say, meet down here in an hour? Once the coffee”—he dropped his eyes to the mug in my hand—“has done its thing, and you’re in a better mood?”
“I am not…”
Breathe. Just breathe. Don’t let him bait you.
“Thanks, but I think I’m good.” I started to move past him, but he snagged my wrist. Our eyes collided, and he grinned again.
Jesus, it was too damn early for this.
“What, no thank you? I’m offering to do a nice thing, and you’re acting—”
“I’m sure you have far better things to be doing on a Sunday than babysitting your friend’s geeky sister.” My brow went up, and realization dawned on his face.
“Shit, Aurora. About last night, I didn’t—”
“You did, and it’s fine. But we can leave it at that.”
“What do you mean?” His brows furrowed.
I looked right at him and said, “We clearly rub each other all wrong, so let’s agree to just stay out of each other’s way.”
Confusion glittered in his pretty eyes, but I didn’t stick around to expand. Grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl, I walked out of there with my head held high.
