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I snatch an icy cold water bottle from the fridge and then turn back to the counter where she’s now sitting and…watching me.
Okay. This is weird.
“What?” I question, and it comes out way more suspicious than it sounded in my head.
“What do you meanwhat?” She smiles and cluelessly bats her lashes.
“You’re just sitting there, staring at me.”
Karli shrugs. “I’m being friendly.” She drains her glass in a few big gulps.
My guard flies up. This feels like a trap.
“Why?” I ask, skeptical.
She blinks, confusion written on her face. “Um, when I saw you at the ice cream shop, you implied that we should be friendly,” she explains matter of factly. “So here I am, being friendly.”
“When I saw you at the ice cream shop, I implied that you shouldn’tignoreme when you could clearly see that I was standing there,” I shoot back.
“Well, you’re standing there. I see you,” she props her chin on her wrist. “Now what?”
Christ, this woman is pushing every damn hot button tonight, isn’t she? Energy buzzes through me. I shift my weight from one foot to the next. I drag a hand through my hair.
She grins in my face, a little wrinkle forming on her nose. “You’re acting nervous,” she slurs.
I watch her with a healthy dose of suspicion. “You’reacting weird.”
Karli shrugs again and sets her wine bottle on the counter. “I’m bored.” On a pause, she giggles. “And to be quite honest, I’m half-drunk. Only half, though. Fifty percent.” She lifts her brows at me in a way that says mischief. “Wanna get ‘all the way’ drunk with me?” She shoves the bottle toward me.
I catch it before it slides off the counter. “Sorry. Think I’d better stick to water for the rest of the night.” I lift my clear plastic bottle in salute.
She pouts. “Well, that’s a bummer. And here I was hoping you knew how to have a little fun.”
Wow. Drunk Karli is frisky tonight.
And just like that, I’ve figured out my newest fantasy. Sexy—drunk—librarian.
Good thing I’ve got a bit of self-control.
“Sorry, Princess. Got a headache.”And it’s probably not a smart idea to be alone with you in the dark with this frisky mood you’re in.
Probably exciting. But definitely not smart.
With my water, I tread back into the living room. She follows me again. She makes herself comfortable on the couch, watching me hopefully.
Damn—where’s my usual Tough Girl. This is such an unexpected side to Karli Brighton. Vulnerable. Adorable. Borderline clingy. I fucking like it. But…
I sit in an armchair a careful distance away, popping some painkillers from the little white bottle I keep in my pocket. I guzzle some water.
She curls up with her legs tucked beneath her, and for a second, it seems like she’s just going to sit there in silence and stare at me. But then she starts talking. And she doesn’t stop. She’s questioning me on every little thing.
“Where are you from?”
“What’s it like over there?”
“Do you like pets?”
“Which one’s your favorite Power Ranger?”
