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“Good god.” I purse my lips and then ask as coherently as I can, “Why’s there a centipede here? Don’t they only live in da jungle?”
He glances up at me and then smiles, showing me slightly crooked white teeth.
Well hell. It’s a shame really. A very disappointing one. He’s too goddamn hot in a perfectly imperfect way.
“No, we have them here,” he says and then stands up and searches around for a piece of paper before bending down again and sliding the paper under the cup and flipping it over.
I squeal loudly, seeing all those tiny creepy legs trying to bring it up the sides of the glass, but Tomas isn’t deterred. He just strides to the sliding glass door, pulls it open and dumps the centipede outside.
“Gasp! What if it comes back inside?” I hiss and then meet his dark brown eyes as he closes the door.
He shrugs like my life isn’t at stake. “It might.”
My hands land on my hips, and I glower at him, knowing that I’m not intimidating at all, especially with this green goop on my face and my blowfish lips. I move to the kitchen sink and begin running warm water, grabbing a paper towel and wetting it before beginning to wipe my face clean. It’s a tragedy, really. I should be using my special silk towel, not this ridiculous bulk-bought paper.
Tomas stands near the kitchen table, watching me clean off my face until I’m done and then he shoves his hands in his pants pockets and glances away.
“You good now?” he asks, and I shrug. My lips have gone down in size. Mostly. They’re only part pufferfish now.
“Quite possibly not. The dogs were no help with thatthingand since you didn’t flush the creature, who knows when it will come back inside? I’m going to have nightmares!”
His lips quirk up at that and he shrugs. “I’ll give you my number so if it comes back inside, I’ll save you from it. How about that?”
The thought of having Tomas’s number delights me to no end, so I quickly find my phone and input his digits.
“I’ll text you if there’s an emergency.”
Tomas nods and then moves toward the front door. Those big, strong, dirty hands open it and he strides out, not even looking back to wave. Which is fine by me. I just watch his ass until I can’t see it anymore. Sad, sad Damon. You really need a hobby.
Well, I have a hobby. Plenty of them. I just need a new one. Not one that includes ogling the straight neighbor’s butt.
I triple-check all the nooks and crannies in the house, shouting at the small dog to stop licking his butthole, and then make sure none of the windows are open. As much as I want to find a reason for Tomas to come back over, I really don’t want to come face-to-face with a wild bug again.
That about put me in an early grave.
I’m only twenty-five, I am far too young to die.
* * *
I can’t quite helpmyself. I have zero patience. It’s only been a few hours and no bugs have entered the house as far as I can tell, but despite this little fact, I decide to text Tomas anyways. An update of sorts.
We can be friends. We can be friendly.
I am thebestat being friends with people. I am the friendliest. I don’t fret over messaging this virtual stranger like I probably should. I never was one to second-guess myself. I always barrel right on in and then worry about regrets later. Although, I don’t think I’ll be regretting him.
No, positively not. Especially with those hands of his. Lord have mercy. Put those on me and rev me up.
Me:
An update. No bugs spotted. Lucky you!
Flopping down on the bed, I pat my slightly puffy lips and sigh as I hold the screen above my face.
Tomas:
Who’s this?
My eyes roll, and I huff out a laugh.
