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Jeez, Louise. You be you!
Listening to her internal thoughts, Byte grabbed her pants, tank, and combat boots. She touched up her lipstick and mascara and left her apartment true to herself.
Take me as I am… GigaByte, the criminal mastermind and mistress of the dark web.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE
The minute Hunter opened the door, he knew he was in trouble. Byte gave off every signal of being a bad girl. She looked fierce and fearless. In comparison, he looked boring and stuffy. He hadn’t known how to dress. Did he take a pair of his jeans and cut the knees out or maybe fray the ends? Should he pour bleach down the leg? Because obviously he didn’t own clothes that looked like they should be chucked into the garbage, but he’d seen what his brother wore. Then there was the shirt issue. Button-down or pullover? Tucked, untucked, or the infuriating trend of half-tucking.
Deciding to be who he really was, he pulled out a pair of comfortable jeans, a pullover University of Texas t-shirt, and his sneakers. He looked slightly better than if he’d gone jogging. To make sure she didn’t think he had, he splashed on some cologne his ex-girlfriend had bought him one Christmas, despite not being a fan of it.
“Are you going to invite me in?” Byte asked after they’d both finished their perusal.
“Sorry. Yes, come in.” Hunter stepped aside and wanted to knock his head against the closing door.
Snap out of it, perv!Hunter told himself.
Byte looked around the house once more and found it just as homey as before. She walked over to the bookcase, ran her finger over the spines, then picked up a photo of him and his family all wearing matching pjs in front of a large Christmas tree. It all looked very normal, she thought.
Hunter came and snatched the picture frame out of her hands. He’d forgotten his mother had placed it there as a practical joke. He swore it was the first and only time he’d participate in the holiday ritual.
“Embarrassed?” Byte asked, not trying to hide her mirth.
“Slightly. It was a gift for my mother. It was all she wanted for Christmas one year. It will never happen again.”
“I think it’s cute.”
“Cute. Yeah, that’s not what a guy likes to hear.”
“What do guys like to hear?”
Hunter would have thought she was teasing him, but the sincerity in her expression told him otherwise.
“I guess that we’re macho… manly… alpha. At least that’s what I read in the books I narrate.”
“But that’s fiction. I want to know what a man likes to hear in real life.”
“Well, um, I guess that we’re interesting, kind, thoughtful, sexy, or at least handsome.” He chuckled.
“I guess it’s the same for a girl then, except maybe beautiful instead of handsome. I thought the sexes would be vastly different, but in the end, I guess we all want to be seen as a good person.”
“I think that’s true.” Unsure what else to say, he offered her something to drink. “I have wine, beer, some wine coolers. I can make you something if you have a preference.”
“No, thanks. I’m not much of a drinker. Besides I’m driving.”
“That death trap again?”
“If you mean my bike, then yes. Have you ever drove one?”
“No. Nor have I ridden on one. I can’t imagine I’d ever want to.”
Byte tapped her finger against her bottom lip, drawing Hunter’s attention to her blue nails and lips.
Clearing his throat, he asked if blue was her favorite color.
“No. Ironically, yellow is.”
“Then why all the blue?” Not that he could imagine her wearing yellow. It seemed to contradict her image.
