Because as sexy as he is in real life, he’s most certainly not all sugar and glitter.
In the distance, the faint lights of my car remind me that obsessing over don’t-even-know-his-name isn’t a priority right now. Mandy and I need to find shelter for the night…and that in three hours before Mr. Hot Guy throws us out.
Mandy must have switched on the lights, or maybe they were on all this time.
I can’t remember with the icy wind piercing through my clothes.
Tightening my grip around my umbrella and shielding my eyes from the dirt flying through the air, I dash for the car. Once or twice, the wind trips me and I almost take a tumble, but I eventually reach it. The moment Mandy spies me, she opens the door and totters out.
“God, Ava. I thought you’d never come back!” she yells against the howling wind as she crosses the distance between us. Her expression instantly changes as she catches my expression. “You didn’t find someone, did you? God, I knew it. We’re going to be trapped in a storm.”
I shake my head. “No, I found someone, all right.”
“You did?” Her expression relaxes, and then she hugs me, letting out a laugh of relief. “I was so worried about you. Where is he? I hope he’s bringing help because the bags are way too heavy for us.”
“I highly doubt that.”
Her arms drop. “Why? Is he old?”
“No, he isn’t old. He’s…” How can I possibly put my feelings into words that Mandy will understand?
Sexy. Arrogant. Hostile. And probably a recluse.
“What?” Mandy prompts.
“Weird?” I suggest and switch off the lights. Before I can stop her, Mandy’s heaving her suitcase out of the trunk. I just shake my head and lock up the car. There’s no point in arguing with her. The darn thing’s heavy as hell, and even more soaked. I can either help her or waste a few hours watching her drag the thing after her. Helping her lift it, I pull her after me. “Let’s go. He’s waiting, and I’m scared he might just change his mind.”
Mandy plants her feet into the ground, forcing me to face her. “Wait. What do you mean by weird? Like axe-wielding-in-the-hallway weird? Did you see blood splatters? Did you smell decay?”
“Just weird.” I tug at her arm again, but Mandy stands frozen to the spot. There’s no way I’ll get her to move without an answer. I sigh. “He doesn’t seem to like visitors, but he’s agreed to let us stay for three hours, until the storm’s over. Don’t expect him to be hospitable.”
“He must really be a loner, living out here, not liking guests,” Mandy says and finally moves from the spot.
“Hmm.” I’m glad she’s turned away from me and doesn’t catch my grimace. “He probably hasn’t seen anyone in ages.”
If only Mandy knew the truth.
***
After giving Mandy a short recollection of how I found the place—leaving out the six-foot-two guy with the hot body—she and I head straight for the porch light. My hands are aching from dragging her heavy suitcase behind, and damn—what the heck did she pack in there? A bookshelf?
“You could have left this in the car,” I mumble for the umpteenth time.
“Ava, we’ve gone over that. Remember?” Mandy says slowly.
Yeah, apparently she can’t leave her expensive Louis Vuitton travel bag in my old car ‘out in the open for everyone to see.’
As if someone would steal a heavy bag in the middle of nowhere.
But apparently she can’t wait for the rain to settle. In her words, “There’s important stuff in there I can’t possibly live a few hours without.”
I fight the need to roll my eyes and drag the heavy thing up the stairs as she stomps behind, minding her steps so her new shoes won’t be ruined.
It’s my fault, really.
When she dragged the thing out into the mud, I should have let her do the heavy lifting herself rather than silently offer to help in the hope the physical labor would help me get rid of my racing thoughts.
Actually, one racing thought centered around one particular question: He’s so frigging hot. Why the heck didn’t I go out with him?
It would only have been one drink. One drink that most likely would have ended with me in his bed, eager to find out if he’s as good in bed as he looks.
If given the chance again, would he want to settle things with me privately? Probably not, judging from the fact that he didn’t look particularly happy to see me. In fact, it’s safe to say he’d have preferred to leave me out in the cold if I didn’t beg.
Ignoring the cold feeling of regret, I discard the thought quickly, not quite able to get rid of the ‘what ifs’ at the back of my mind.