Kat lowered her frustrated gaze to mine. “But it’s Friday evening, and Dee went to the movies with Adam, and I’m…I’m stuck here with—”
“With me?” I raised both brows as I crossed my arms, mirroring her stance.
She sighed again. “I don’t want to sound like a jerk, but I don’t…you don’t even like me most of the time. I mean, one minute you’re really cool and are actually fun to be around and the next—like the last couple of days—you have been such a jerk.”
I hadn’t been the friendliest since the day in the cafeteria. I didn’t like the shit with Lane and the questions he’d been asking. I didn’t like the shit with Simon. I didn’t like that I didn’t like the shit with Simon. I didn’t like the shit with the Thompsons, namely Andrew and Ash, who were not at all secretive about their growing contempt when it came to Kat. I didn’t like the shit with Matthew, whose paranoia was damn near contagious. I didn’t like the shit with Dee, because she acted like nothing was wrong and everything was unicorns vomiting rainbows.
I didn’t like the shit with Kat in general.
Needless to say, my mood was shit.
The center of Kat’s cheeks were slightly pinker than the rest of her face, and even though her gaze was steady, I knew my mood swings affected her. The girl was mentally strong—an emotional powerhouse—but I wasn’t easy on her. No way, nohow. And even though it was her who moved into this house and it was her who walked out in front of that truck, none of this was her fault.
Rubbing my palm along my jaw, I met her gaze. “I promise I’ll behave.”
She cocked her head to the side. “I don’t believe you.”
“You really don’t have to.” Reaching into the pocket of my jeans, I pulled out my car keys. “Come on. I know what bookstore Carissa was talking about. If you want to see it, we’re going to have to leave now before it closes.”
Kat didn’t move.
“You’re gonna want to see it.” I jumped off the porch, landing nimbly in front of the steps. “They have like a bunch of books they sell for like fifty cents a piece.” Her eyes lit up like the faint glow around her.
I backed up toward my driveway. “If you’re lucky, the actual owner will be there.”
She uncurled her arms. “Why would that make me lucky?”
“Because he looks like Santa Claus.”
Kat blinked, and then a surprised laugh burst out of her. The sound did a weird thing to my chest, something I ignored as I opened the driver’s car door. “You’re coming, right?”
Finally, after what felt like forever, she got into the SUV and immediately turned up the radio, the universal sign that indicated “don’t talk.” The ride into town was quiet, and I kept my mouth shut as we walked into the tiny used bookstore that smelled like dust and old pages.
Unfortunately, the owner wasn’t working, but Kat didn’t seem to care. The moment she stepped inside, it was like Christmas morning to her. A smile appeared and it didn’t leave as she buzzed from one overstocked shelf to the next, oblivious to the clouds of dust she stirred up every time she pulled a book out of a pile. There was no one else in the narrow shop besides the older lady behind the register, who had her nose in a book.
I stood back, out of her way, and I’d pulled out my phone, opening up Candy Crush, but I wasn’t paying attention to the game. Hell, I was still on the damn candy trail. I was watching her. I couldn’t help it. Especially when she bent over, scanning the lower shelves.
Uncomfortable, I shifted my legs. Didn’t help. Images flooded me. Kat starred in all of them. The costar was the red bikini. Heat moved under my skin, and I ground my molars. I needed to think about something—anything else.
Kat stretched up, reaching for a book several shelves above her, and the shirt she wore rode up, revealing a thin slice of skin above her jeans.
Aw, hell…
She clutched a book to her chest, and I was really, really envious of that book.
I shifted again. Still didn’t help.
She spun around, heading for a wire bin full of small paperbacks covered with bare-chested men and women in fancy, old-school dresses. She dug around until she stacked a pile of them on the outside and then looked at me. “Can you help me?”
Slipping my phone in my pocket, my walk toward her was a bit…awkward. “What’s up?”
“Hold your arms out, please.”
I did what she asked.
And a few moments later, I was holding a pile of romance books.
I had no idea how my life veered so far off track that this was what I was doing on a Friday night, but a part of me wasn’t all that upset. Which of course upset me even more.
Kat ended up leaving the store with more books than any human needed, and the whole way home she smiled that…that beautiful smile I rarely ever saw. She chattered about the books, and even though I didn’t respond to anything she said, she kept going on.