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“I haven't seen him since.” I pout and glance out the sunny window at his too-neat house. His absence has tanked my mood. Which is stupid. I shouldn’t care if he’s home or not, especially since I’ve got him pegged as a possible-serial-killer-maybe-FBI-agent-definitely-up-to-no-good guy.
Kimber must’ve noticed something was up when she called. It’s why she’d dropped a Sweetart challenge on me. We do these random, odd competitions with each other. It’s something silly that we started when she moved a world away from me. It is our little way of having a girls’ night.
“Hey.” She snaps her fingers. “Go knock on his door.”
I sit up. “Have you lost your mind?”
“You lost the challenge,” she reminds me.
I groan. “No, I don’t even know what I’d say to him.”
“Say you need sugar.”
“I have sugar.”
“Okay, a cup of milk.” Kimber lets out a long sigh. “It doesn't matter. You’re missing the point. Maybe you’ll see inside his house and find the bodies.”
“I’m a terrible liar,” I remind her.
“Go into the kitchen and dump all the milk down the sink. Then it’s not a lie.”
“You’re so smart. Cruel, but smart.” I stand, heading for the kitchen again. “This is why you got into your fancy school, and I’m here with a cat that hates me and stalking the man who lives next door.”
“We all need hobbies.” Of course my best friend finds a reason for my behavior to be okay.
I open the fridge, grab the milk, and dump it out. Jinx jumps up onto the counter to watch me. I thought he’d given me dirty looks before, but this one is lethal. What kind of cat did my grandma leave me? He’s a sneaky little thing too. I thought he was supposed to be an inside cat, but I always see him outside. When I try to lure him back in, he usually runs from me. Then I give up and head back inside to find him not even ten minutes later, snoozing on the sofa. I have no idea how he is getting in and out of this house.
“I dumped the milk, but I’m not sure I can go knock on the guy’s door.” I look over at his place. I can’t tell if any lights are on since it’s sunny, but it seems like maybe he’s not home? I swear Jinx shakes his head at me for wasting the milk.
“Get to it, sis.” Kimber taps her wrist like she’s wearing a watch. “You lost the challenge.”
I close my eyes and groan. Whoever loses a challenge has to do something of the winner’s choosing. I should have seen this coming. Kimber set the trap, and I Sweetarted my way right into it. I take a deep breath in, stick my tongue out at Kimber, and disconnect her.
I pause at my door, realizing maybe I should change first. I bolt into my bedroom and look through my clothes. For the first time, I realize I own a lot of tie dye and shirts with kittens on them.
“This why you’re always so grumpy with me? Because I’m always sporting other cats?” I ask Jinx as he watches me from my bed. For a cat that doesn't like me, he’s always following me around.
I go with yoga pants. Aren’t men always saying women's butts look good in them? I check the mirror, sticking my butt out to have a look for myself. I almost fall over in the process. These pants will do. I pull off the current kitten shirt I’m rocking and dig for a simple plain undershirt that I normally wear for layers. It’s got a built-in bra so instead of normal, I look like I’m about to go for a workout. Dang it. I have nothing to wear.
Wait, if I’m supposed to be cooking, he wouldn’t expect me to be all dressed up. Thisiswhat I’d be wearing. I fluff my hair before putting on some lip gloss and mascara. I normally never wear the stuff, but Kimber is always telling me to try it. I head for the kitchen and find an apron and tie it around my waist. I find some flour in the pantry and flick it on myself. If I’m going to be sneaky, I may as well make this look legit.
I dig through the kitchen cabinets until I find a measuring cup. “I can do this,” I tell myself as I head for the front door. I’m only confident because I’m pretty sure he’s not home anyway. I can do my challenge, then tell Kimber to stick it.
I walk down my sidewalk, not cutting through my yard because it still needs to be mowed. As always, mystery man’s lawn is perfectly kept. I stride up his front walk and onto his porch. It’s big out here, exposed, but there aren’t any people. Just a black car down the block, but I can’t see if anyone is inside because of the window tint. It doesn’t matter. There’s no crowd around me, I remind myself. I’m okay.
I take a deep breath, then lift my hand to knock. Before I can make contact it swings open, and a hand reaches out and grabs me. I let out a small yelp as I’m pulled inside the home and the door closes behind me. The glass in my hand slips. I cringe, expecting to hear it shatter, but no sound comes.
“Lights on.” His deep voice rumbles, and I wonder if he can feel the goosebumps break out on my skin under his touch. My stupid nipples tighten, and I want to smack myself for not putting on a bra. This undershirt isn’t going to hide anything. When the lights click on, I look down at him. One of his hands is still on my arm. He’s on one knee in front of me, and his other hand holds the cup a few inches from the floor. He caught it. Even in the dark.
Yep. He is definitely a spy. I knew it!
Wait. We’d gone with drug dealer, too. Crap. This is either really bad or really good. I try not to acknowledge that his chest is bare. That he’s only in sweats that ride low on his waist. He must have been sleeping.
“Baking,” I blurt out. “I’m baking things. I need milk.” And a straightjacket. He likely needs a restraining order against me. We both stand silent for a moment while we stare at one another. He finally rises. I have to drop my head all the way back to look up at him. He’s handsome and dangerous all at the same time. I hope I live to tell Kimber about this.
4
HEATH
