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God, who is this guy?
I’ve never ever met anyone like him before.
I didn’t even know guys like himexisted.
I force myself to breathe though and ask, “What are you doing out here, in the woods?”
My question doesn’t faze him in the least. In fact, he’s all ready with an answer. “Getting interrogated by some bubblegum.”
My nostrils flare and his lips twitch at my displeasure.
“Why do you have that string?” I look at it, lying on the ground just by his side. “What are you going to do with it?”
“Magic.”
“Is it something bad?”
“Define bad.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“Are you afraid?”
“No.”
I don’t sound very convincing, even to myself. And he smiles. As if he likes it. As if the prospect of scaring me sounds fun to him. Then, “Because if you were, I’d tell you then you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“But someone else… does?”
“Not you.” He shakes his head slowly. “That’s all you need to know.”
“I don’t think —”
“Besides, it’s none of your business,” he cuts me off, raising an arrogant eyebrow. “Is it?”
“Actually itismy business.”
“And how is that?”
“Because these are my woods.”
“Your woods.”
“Yes, I live here.”
Finally,freaking finally, all amusement and arrogance get wiped off his face.
I’m so happy that it’s a struggle to not smile and maintain my own arrogant expression but I do it.
Anything to turn the tables on him.
Anything.
“You live here.”
I nod. “Yup.”
“Here,” he goes, his eyes going up and down my body again. “At the manor?”
