Stupid Girl
Page 11
And he knew it. Kelsy’s mouth smirked into what I once thought was a charming smile. “Funny running into you here, huh? God, it’s what? Like four hours from home?”
My mouth went dry as no words formed. I could do nothing more than stare at him. The narrow hallway, with its blue stained concrete walls and old black-framed photographs of fishing boats, floated in and out of my peripheral. But my gaze remained mercilessly locked onto his. I didn’t want to look at him. But I did.
Kelsy widened his eyes, and it made him have a shocked look on his tanned face. But I immediately knew it was as fake as that smirk. “Oh—don’t tell me you’re at Winston? Holy shit, no way.” He pressed his big-knuckled hand to over his heart and leaned forward. “Now what kind of good fuckin’ luck is that, huh? That we’d end up at the same school? Come here, girl, don’t be such a stranger,” he said, and the air completely stopped in my windpipe as he pulled my body against his into a tight embrace. I stood there as he squeezed around me, still as a scarecrow and just as lifeless. He buried his nose into the hollow of my neck and inhaled, exhaled deeply, and his breath rustled the curls at my nape. “Damn, Livvy, you still smell like daisies and sunshine.” His hand felt its way down my arm, and his fingers brushed my ring. “Still wearing this old thing, darlin’?” He whispered. “Why didn’t you return any of my calls, Liv?” He buried deeper into my neck. “You didn’t have to ignore me.”
It started as a low, distant roar, somewhere deep within me like a brewing thunderstorm, and it built and built and rolled upward through my stomach until I felt it pounding against my chest. Without thinking, my hands found strength and before I knew it, they were between our bodies, pressing against Kelsy’s chest. I pushed.
“Stay away from me,” I said quietly, and weak. I couldn’t look him in the eye anymore, so I stared past him, over his shoulder, and fixed my gaze on the square blue and white tiles on the floor. Without another word, I moved past him. I thought at first he’d let me go, leave me alone, but the second my body evened up with the end of the short corridor, his voice fell over me. Not loud. Deadly sober.
“Not in this lifetime, Olivia Beaumont.” A stern yet mocking tone deepened his already-heavy Texas drawl, and it followed me around the corner, in my mind, even as I made my way through the tables and away from the restrooms. My insides felt washed out, and cold, and full of dread and that little thing you get in the pit of your stomach when you know something’s just not right.
And never will be.
Kelsy Evans was here. At Winston. For a brief second, I stopped, and my hand grasped the wooden partition separating the dining room from the kitchen. Inside, I sagged, and tried to breathe, tried to look normal. Unaffected. Just a few more breaths and I’d be good.
Oh, God …
Across the room, I saw our booth, and Brax’s dark head turned toward the window as he faced away from me. I had to go to him. Act as if nothing was wrong. It’d been a mistake, coming here, with him. Never should I have let my guard down. Class, school, study, repeat. No socializing. Not even with a smooth-talking Southie—no matter that he put me at ease and made me laugh. It’d been a mistake. Had I not agreed, and come to this place, I wouldn’t have encountered Kelsy, and I’d have stayed safe. Now? Slowly, my feet moved, and by the time I got to the booth, I pasted a smile to my face and leaned across my seat, gathering my jacket and bag. “Thanks for dinner,” I said, and my eyes skittered across to Brax’s chest and tattooed forearms, which rested casually on the tabletop. Anywhere but his eyes. “I’d better get back, though.” I huffed a sigh. “First day of school tomorrow, plus work.” Standing, I shrugged into my jacket and fidgeted with my purse. I could feel his eyes on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.
“You okay, Gracie?”
The raspy voice, tinged with concern, stopped my fidgeting, just long enough for me to slip a quick look in his direction. His brows were jutted together, narrowing his eyes and making the skin crinkle at the corners. He didn’t believe me, I knew it. A slight noise bubbled out of my throat that resembled a strangled chuckle. “Oh, sure. I’m just tired, I guess. Kind of nervous about first day of class. You know?”
Back to the fidgeting, I adjusted the low waist of my jeans, smoothed my damp blouse, and glanced down at my toes, snuggled into my sandals. I looked out the window, then just … started walking toward the door, because Brax wasn’t budging from his seat. And I had to get out. Now.
By the time I reached the exit door, Brax’s tattooed arm reached in front of me and opened it. To his credit, he didn’t say anything, but I could feel it in the air around us. He knew I was unsettled, and I could do nothing but silently pray he’d just let it go.
Just as I was pulling on my helmet, and Brax was already straddling the bike, a voice reached through the heavy, humid air of the parking lot. It sent a streak of fear down my spine.
“Hey, Livvy, see you at school, huh?” Kelsy Evans said.
My eyes darted to that voice, and Kelsy was standing at the door of his truck. The big, black obnoxious Ford was the same one he’d driven in high school. Quickly, I turned my gaze from him, from that truck, and from the horrible memories both stirred inside of me. Fear. Revulsion. Shame. Those things had bound to my DNA, and I had to fight every day not to let it take over me. My body moved to climb onto Brax’s bike before my eyes registered the fact that Brax was no longer on it. He stood beside me, his presence looming and heavy and invasive and comforting, his large palm pressing against my lower back. I looked up at him then, and the muscles in his jaw flinched. Although he wore dark shades, I knew his gaze drifted toward Kelsy.
“You know that guy, Gracie?” His voice was scratchy and low, and a little edgy.
I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t seem to help it when my eyes moved to look at Kelsy Evans. And when I did, even from where I stood, I could see the whites of his teeth as his lips pulled away from them. He knew the reaction he caused in me. And he liked it.
My stomach plummeted, but I took a deep, inconspicuous breath. “He’s just somebody I went to high school with.” I turned away.
Brax stood there, though, staring at Kelsy through his dark shades, his body rigid and still, and right then I knew that my dirty little secret, the one I’d hoped to keep hidden from a school filled with brand new people, would not be kept for very long.
7. Brax
The guy was a douchebag. A fuckin’ prick. I was one, too, so hell yeah, I could tell that about him. An arrogant fuck, by the way he’d stood with his chest bowed, next to his big hillbilly pick-up while smiling at Gracie. That alone was pissing me off. He’d rattled her in the restaurant; that much was obvious. I immediately saw the change in her. He was a lot more than just some douche she knew in high school. She came back from the bathroom on edge. Damn, she was skittish as hell when I’d first picked her up at the dorm. But then I’d turned on the charm and coaxed her into relaxing a little. Gracie was pretty damn funny when chilled and not on constant guard. I gotta admit—I actually enjoyed her company. Usually there was a game involved, where the girl was coy and pretended she wasn’t flirting but she really was, and thought I didn’t know it. I’d known Gracie less than two days and I could tell she was as real as they came. But when she came back, after that drink spilled on her? Scared shitless and nervous as hell, if I had to label it. Her gaze darted all over the place, and she wouldn’t look me in the eye. Now? She wanted to get the f**k out of there. Away from him.
And that pissed me off even more. Made me curious. And that grin on his face? Made me want to drag his sorry hillbilly ass behind the dumpsters there and beat the living f**k out of him.
I stared at him through my shades, just long enough to let him know that I thought he was a prick. A silent challenge between two dudes. I didn’t say a word, just looked, and took inventory. Rich pretty boy, that much was obvious. Pricey clothes and a ride he probably didn’t have to pay for. My height, maybe my weight. But no fuckin’ backbone. Well, except when it came to intimidating girls. He got off on that. Pussy.
Finally, he ducked his head, climbed into that ass truck and took off.
“Brax, can we go now?”
Her voice shook a little, even though she tried to steady it. She stood next to me, still as a goddamn statue, waiting for my answer. When I looked down at her, with those wide soft eyes of hers staring back at me, I was reminded of what a douchebag I truly was. What in the hell was I doing with her? What in the goddamn hell? Sweet and innocent, with her little freckled nose, flawless skin and full mouth made for hours of slow kissing. Not fast like the first one I’d taken from her. Christ, I’d thought about nothing else since. That white scar in her lip was fuckin’ sexy as hell. I took advantage of my shades and just stared at her. Innocent, but … not. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something about her, something she was hiding. Naïve, maybe a little, but she wasn’t stupid. Far from it. Yet I felt protective over her for some reason, and that shocked the hell out of me. Kenny about lost his goddamn hand, just for touching her hair. It’d made her more than uncomfortable. And it’d scared her. The thought of Kenny or that rich idiot or anyone else bothering her boiled my fuckin’ blood.
That thought made me take one last long look at Gracie Beaumont’s questioning face. I’d introduced her to the guys as Olivia because Gracie was my name for her. I didn’t want anyone else to call her that. Just me. I stared at her through my shades. Her head tilted toward the sun, her skin was the color of honey; healthy and alive. She’d trusted my sorry ass enough to climb on my bike and leave the school. Part of me felt lucky that she’d given me that trust, because I got the feeling she didn’t hand that out too much. The other part of me, and the larger part? Felt like a bum. A goddamn bastard bum.
But hey—who was I? Who the f**k was I? I’d only just slammed into her the day before. And she’d never know what an unlucky meeting that was. For her, not me. Not until it was too late. So I guess it really didn’t matter what I was doing with her now ’cause I was doing it regardless, bastard that I was. Regrets were a bitch, and I’d worry about them later. I could no more control my selfish streak than I could my Southie mouth. Regrets? Hell yeah, I’d have them. No doubt. But I could tell something about Gracie Beaumont. She was strong. Kick ass strong. And that, for some reason, made my regrets suck a little more. And retreat a little more, to a place far in the back corner of my f**ked up mind. But like I said. I’d worry about that later.
Finally, I flashed a slow smile and reached to tighten her chin strap. Her long thick braid rested over her shoulder, and I picked it up. It felt smooth and heavy between my fingers. I pushed it aside, and just as I did the thought of kissing her mindless when we got to the dorm entered my head. That could wait. But not for long. “Sure thing, Gracie.” I straddled my bike. “Hop on.”
Gracie’s lean body slid behind me, and her small hands timidly rested on my hips. Like before, I reached back and grabbed her arms, pulling them tightly around my stomach. I held them in place with my hand, just in case she had thoughts of pulling them back. Funny. I was used to chicks grabbing my crotch while we rode. There was something to be said about Gracie’s shy touch, though. Different. Yeah, I liked her holding onto me this way.
“Thank you, Brax.” She said this quietly, close to my ear, before I pulled on my helmet. Her breath was soft against my neck, and her body pressed against my back.
For a split second, I closed my eyes. Jesus Christ, Jenkins, you are a grade-A bastard. Far worse than that prick with the hillbilly pick-up. You sure you got the stomach for this?
I had to actually take a deep breath in and think about it. Could I? Stomach it? I was in it now, with no f**king choice but to go forward. Gracie’s trusting words of thanks stuck in me like a f**king knife. Dug deep into my gut. I shook it the f**k off and opened my eyes. Pulled on my helmet. Started the bike. Felt her arms squeeze tighter against me as we sped out of the parking lot. And I liked it. Fuck, maybe I’d just bang her and get it out of my system. Get her out of my system. I could convince her. Might take some time, but I could.
By the time we made it back to Winston, the last rays of sunlight streaked purple and gray across the sky. That’s one thing I liked about Texas versus Boston. The sky. Here, it was a vast blanket of a million different things, day and night, stars and sun and storm clouds. Back home, only holes of it skewered through the tall brick and concrete structures of the city. All except the harbor, anyway. That was the place to go to see more than just circles and holes, and I’d hung out there a lot as a kid. Yeah, I missed the harbor all right. Missed a lot of things. Didn’t miss a lot of things, too, that’s for damn sure.
I cruised through the campus streets, and every time I rolled over a speed bump, I goosed the engine, causing Gracie’s head to bump into the back of mine. Crack, her helmet smacked against my helmet. Goose. Crack. Goose. Crack.
“Brax,” she said, and softly punched my arm. There was laughter in her voice, though, and it made me smile. Almost laugh. Just like a goddamn kid. I pulled up at the walkway leading to her dorm and stopped the bike. Before I killed the engine, she’d thrown her leg over the seat and was standing there, and I watched her long nimble fingers loosen the chin strap. When she pulled the helmet off, that wild thick braid fell out and over her shoulder. Why it fascinated me, I had no clue. But it did. It damn sure did.
“Thanks for dinner,” Gracie said. Her voice had the perfect female pitch, and her Texas drawl was soft and easy on the ear. I liked it. “And for helping me unload my stuff.” The smile on her mouth came hesitantly, and it was really just barely there, and she couldn’t quite meet my eye. “And for showing me the back route to the observatory.” A nighttime breeze had kicked up, and it brushed over her face and a loose strand of hair caught on her lip. She ignored it. Hell if I could. I reached over and gently knocked it loose.
My mouth went dry as no words formed. I could do nothing more than stare at him. The narrow hallway, with its blue stained concrete walls and old black-framed photographs of fishing boats, floated in and out of my peripheral. But my gaze remained mercilessly locked onto his. I didn’t want to look at him. But I did.
Kelsy widened his eyes, and it made him have a shocked look on his tanned face. But I immediately knew it was as fake as that smirk. “Oh—don’t tell me you’re at Winston? Holy shit, no way.” He pressed his big-knuckled hand to over his heart and leaned forward. “Now what kind of good fuckin’ luck is that, huh? That we’d end up at the same school? Come here, girl, don’t be such a stranger,” he said, and the air completely stopped in my windpipe as he pulled my body against his into a tight embrace. I stood there as he squeezed around me, still as a scarecrow and just as lifeless. He buried his nose into the hollow of my neck and inhaled, exhaled deeply, and his breath rustled the curls at my nape. “Damn, Livvy, you still smell like daisies and sunshine.” His hand felt its way down my arm, and his fingers brushed my ring. “Still wearing this old thing, darlin’?” He whispered. “Why didn’t you return any of my calls, Liv?” He buried deeper into my neck. “You didn’t have to ignore me.”
It started as a low, distant roar, somewhere deep within me like a brewing thunderstorm, and it built and built and rolled upward through my stomach until I felt it pounding against my chest. Without thinking, my hands found strength and before I knew it, they were between our bodies, pressing against Kelsy’s chest. I pushed.
“Stay away from me,” I said quietly, and weak. I couldn’t look him in the eye anymore, so I stared past him, over his shoulder, and fixed my gaze on the square blue and white tiles on the floor. Without another word, I moved past him. I thought at first he’d let me go, leave me alone, but the second my body evened up with the end of the short corridor, his voice fell over me. Not loud. Deadly sober.
“Not in this lifetime, Olivia Beaumont.” A stern yet mocking tone deepened his already-heavy Texas drawl, and it followed me around the corner, in my mind, even as I made my way through the tables and away from the restrooms. My insides felt washed out, and cold, and full of dread and that little thing you get in the pit of your stomach when you know something’s just not right.
And never will be.
Kelsy Evans was here. At Winston. For a brief second, I stopped, and my hand grasped the wooden partition separating the dining room from the kitchen. Inside, I sagged, and tried to breathe, tried to look normal. Unaffected. Just a few more breaths and I’d be good.
Oh, God …
Across the room, I saw our booth, and Brax’s dark head turned toward the window as he faced away from me. I had to go to him. Act as if nothing was wrong. It’d been a mistake, coming here, with him. Never should I have let my guard down. Class, school, study, repeat. No socializing. Not even with a smooth-talking Southie—no matter that he put me at ease and made me laugh. It’d been a mistake. Had I not agreed, and come to this place, I wouldn’t have encountered Kelsy, and I’d have stayed safe. Now? Slowly, my feet moved, and by the time I got to the booth, I pasted a smile to my face and leaned across my seat, gathering my jacket and bag. “Thanks for dinner,” I said, and my eyes skittered across to Brax’s chest and tattooed forearms, which rested casually on the tabletop. Anywhere but his eyes. “I’d better get back, though.” I huffed a sigh. “First day of school tomorrow, plus work.” Standing, I shrugged into my jacket and fidgeted with my purse. I could feel his eyes on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.
“You okay, Gracie?”
The raspy voice, tinged with concern, stopped my fidgeting, just long enough for me to slip a quick look in his direction. His brows were jutted together, narrowing his eyes and making the skin crinkle at the corners. He didn’t believe me, I knew it. A slight noise bubbled out of my throat that resembled a strangled chuckle. “Oh, sure. I’m just tired, I guess. Kind of nervous about first day of class. You know?”
Back to the fidgeting, I adjusted the low waist of my jeans, smoothed my damp blouse, and glanced down at my toes, snuggled into my sandals. I looked out the window, then just … started walking toward the door, because Brax wasn’t budging from his seat. And I had to get out. Now.
By the time I reached the exit door, Brax’s tattooed arm reached in front of me and opened it. To his credit, he didn’t say anything, but I could feel it in the air around us. He knew I was unsettled, and I could do nothing but silently pray he’d just let it go.
Just as I was pulling on my helmet, and Brax was already straddling the bike, a voice reached through the heavy, humid air of the parking lot. It sent a streak of fear down my spine.
“Hey, Livvy, see you at school, huh?” Kelsy Evans said.
My eyes darted to that voice, and Kelsy was standing at the door of his truck. The big, black obnoxious Ford was the same one he’d driven in high school. Quickly, I turned my gaze from him, from that truck, and from the horrible memories both stirred inside of me. Fear. Revulsion. Shame. Those things had bound to my DNA, and I had to fight every day not to let it take over me. My body moved to climb onto Brax’s bike before my eyes registered the fact that Brax was no longer on it. He stood beside me, his presence looming and heavy and invasive and comforting, his large palm pressing against my lower back. I looked up at him then, and the muscles in his jaw flinched. Although he wore dark shades, I knew his gaze drifted toward Kelsy.
“You know that guy, Gracie?” His voice was scratchy and low, and a little edgy.
I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t seem to help it when my eyes moved to look at Kelsy Evans. And when I did, even from where I stood, I could see the whites of his teeth as his lips pulled away from them. He knew the reaction he caused in me. And he liked it.
My stomach plummeted, but I took a deep, inconspicuous breath. “He’s just somebody I went to high school with.” I turned away.
Brax stood there, though, staring at Kelsy through his dark shades, his body rigid and still, and right then I knew that my dirty little secret, the one I’d hoped to keep hidden from a school filled with brand new people, would not be kept for very long.
7. Brax
The guy was a douchebag. A fuckin’ prick. I was one, too, so hell yeah, I could tell that about him. An arrogant fuck, by the way he’d stood with his chest bowed, next to his big hillbilly pick-up while smiling at Gracie. That alone was pissing me off. He’d rattled her in the restaurant; that much was obvious. I immediately saw the change in her. He was a lot more than just some douche she knew in high school. She came back from the bathroom on edge. Damn, she was skittish as hell when I’d first picked her up at the dorm. But then I’d turned on the charm and coaxed her into relaxing a little. Gracie was pretty damn funny when chilled and not on constant guard. I gotta admit—I actually enjoyed her company. Usually there was a game involved, where the girl was coy and pretended she wasn’t flirting but she really was, and thought I didn’t know it. I’d known Gracie less than two days and I could tell she was as real as they came. But when she came back, after that drink spilled on her? Scared shitless and nervous as hell, if I had to label it. Her gaze darted all over the place, and she wouldn’t look me in the eye. Now? She wanted to get the f**k out of there. Away from him.
And that pissed me off even more. Made me curious. And that grin on his face? Made me want to drag his sorry hillbilly ass behind the dumpsters there and beat the living f**k out of him.
I stared at him through my shades, just long enough to let him know that I thought he was a prick. A silent challenge between two dudes. I didn’t say a word, just looked, and took inventory. Rich pretty boy, that much was obvious. Pricey clothes and a ride he probably didn’t have to pay for. My height, maybe my weight. But no fuckin’ backbone. Well, except when it came to intimidating girls. He got off on that. Pussy.
Finally, he ducked his head, climbed into that ass truck and took off.
“Brax, can we go now?”
Her voice shook a little, even though she tried to steady it. She stood next to me, still as a goddamn statue, waiting for my answer. When I looked down at her, with those wide soft eyes of hers staring back at me, I was reminded of what a douchebag I truly was. What in the hell was I doing with her? What in the goddamn hell? Sweet and innocent, with her little freckled nose, flawless skin and full mouth made for hours of slow kissing. Not fast like the first one I’d taken from her. Christ, I’d thought about nothing else since. That white scar in her lip was fuckin’ sexy as hell. I took advantage of my shades and just stared at her. Innocent, but … not. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something about her, something she was hiding. Naïve, maybe a little, but she wasn’t stupid. Far from it. Yet I felt protective over her for some reason, and that shocked the hell out of me. Kenny about lost his goddamn hand, just for touching her hair. It’d made her more than uncomfortable. And it’d scared her. The thought of Kenny or that rich idiot or anyone else bothering her boiled my fuckin’ blood.
That thought made me take one last long look at Gracie Beaumont’s questioning face. I’d introduced her to the guys as Olivia because Gracie was my name for her. I didn’t want anyone else to call her that. Just me. I stared at her through my shades. Her head tilted toward the sun, her skin was the color of honey; healthy and alive. She’d trusted my sorry ass enough to climb on my bike and leave the school. Part of me felt lucky that she’d given me that trust, because I got the feeling she didn’t hand that out too much. The other part of me, and the larger part? Felt like a bum. A goddamn bastard bum.
But hey—who was I? Who the f**k was I? I’d only just slammed into her the day before. And she’d never know what an unlucky meeting that was. For her, not me. Not until it was too late. So I guess it really didn’t matter what I was doing with her now ’cause I was doing it regardless, bastard that I was. Regrets were a bitch, and I’d worry about them later. I could no more control my selfish streak than I could my Southie mouth. Regrets? Hell yeah, I’d have them. No doubt. But I could tell something about Gracie Beaumont. She was strong. Kick ass strong. And that, for some reason, made my regrets suck a little more. And retreat a little more, to a place far in the back corner of my f**ked up mind. But like I said. I’d worry about that later.
Finally, I flashed a slow smile and reached to tighten her chin strap. Her long thick braid rested over her shoulder, and I picked it up. It felt smooth and heavy between my fingers. I pushed it aside, and just as I did the thought of kissing her mindless when we got to the dorm entered my head. That could wait. But not for long. “Sure thing, Gracie.” I straddled my bike. “Hop on.”
Gracie’s lean body slid behind me, and her small hands timidly rested on my hips. Like before, I reached back and grabbed her arms, pulling them tightly around my stomach. I held them in place with my hand, just in case she had thoughts of pulling them back. Funny. I was used to chicks grabbing my crotch while we rode. There was something to be said about Gracie’s shy touch, though. Different. Yeah, I liked her holding onto me this way.
“Thank you, Brax.” She said this quietly, close to my ear, before I pulled on my helmet. Her breath was soft against my neck, and her body pressed against my back.
For a split second, I closed my eyes. Jesus Christ, Jenkins, you are a grade-A bastard. Far worse than that prick with the hillbilly pick-up. You sure you got the stomach for this?
I had to actually take a deep breath in and think about it. Could I? Stomach it? I was in it now, with no f**king choice but to go forward. Gracie’s trusting words of thanks stuck in me like a f**king knife. Dug deep into my gut. I shook it the f**k off and opened my eyes. Pulled on my helmet. Started the bike. Felt her arms squeeze tighter against me as we sped out of the parking lot. And I liked it. Fuck, maybe I’d just bang her and get it out of my system. Get her out of my system. I could convince her. Might take some time, but I could.
By the time we made it back to Winston, the last rays of sunlight streaked purple and gray across the sky. That’s one thing I liked about Texas versus Boston. The sky. Here, it was a vast blanket of a million different things, day and night, stars and sun and storm clouds. Back home, only holes of it skewered through the tall brick and concrete structures of the city. All except the harbor, anyway. That was the place to go to see more than just circles and holes, and I’d hung out there a lot as a kid. Yeah, I missed the harbor all right. Missed a lot of things. Didn’t miss a lot of things, too, that’s for damn sure.
I cruised through the campus streets, and every time I rolled over a speed bump, I goosed the engine, causing Gracie’s head to bump into the back of mine. Crack, her helmet smacked against my helmet. Goose. Crack. Goose. Crack.
“Brax,” she said, and softly punched my arm. There was laughter in her voice, though, and it made me smile. Almost laugh. Just like a goddamn kid. I pulled up at the walkway leading to her dorm and stopped the bike. Before I killed the engine, she’d thrown her leg over the seat and was standing there, and I watched her long nimble fingers loosen the chin strap. When she pulled the helmet off, that wild thick braid fell out and over her shoulder. Why it fascinated me, I had no clue. But it did. It damn sure did.
“Thanks for dinner,” Gracie said. Her voice had the perfect female pitch, and her Texas drawl was soft and easy on the ear. I liked it. “And for helping me unload my stuff.” The smile on her mouth came hesitantly, and it was really just barely there, and she couldn’t quite meet my eye. “And for showing me the back route to the observatory.” A nighttime breeze had kicked up, and it brushed over her face and a loose strand of hair caught on her lip. She ignored it. Hell if I could. I reached over and gently knocked it loose.
