Live with me? I try to recall the word salad Raven tossed my way. She claims she meant to call me earlier. This girl is homeless?Jobless? And the best solution out of about a million others is to have this chick hole up in my spare bedroom? Crap. I shake my head at the thought. If anyone would have told me a year ago that Meredith and I wouldn’t be together, wouldn’t be speaking, that I would leave the firm—absolve myself of everything I learned in law school, and open up a glorified bar with my childhood friends—and let’s not forget Harlow—LowHartley, Raven’s best friend in the whole wide world—her words not mine, no, I wouldn’t believe anyofit.
A set of heels click their way over, obnoxiously angry, and the gate magically glides back as she stalks my way. There she is, the scowl on her face, beautiful as it might be, assures me she’spissed.
The deputy shakes his head my way. “Good luck,” he mumbles before heading back, and the gate seals us on the right side ofthelaw.
“Good luck,” she huffs as she struts on past me. The faint scent of her sugary perfume has my dick back on heightened alert. “Don’t just stand there.” She glances over her shoulder, and those red, hot as fuck lips call to me. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to make a speedygetaway!”
I follow her out and lead her to the truck. I help her in and we take off, leaving the Hollow Brook Police Department inourwake.
“I talked to Raven,” I say it low, mostly to myself, because quite frankly, I’m still in a bit of shock at the turn of events this night hastaken.
The girl next to me balks, gesticulating wildly with her hand as if she were inebriated, but I know she’s still worked up. Getting arrested can make even the demurest person a bit unhinged. Not that I would know, but deductive logic has always been mystrongsuit.
“How about if we start over?” I offer as we head onto the main thoroughfare. “I’m Levi Masterson. I hear you’re my sister’s very best friend in the whole wide world.” I didn’t mean for it to come out stinging with sarcasm, but in truth I can still hear Raven’s voice in my ear, and I was simply mimicking herinflection.
“Wow,” she huffs incredulously, letting me know I’ve gone too far and, since deductive logic is my strong suit, yes, I’ve surmised that much myself. “You really are something. It’s no wonder she’s said nothing about you for the last eight years I’veknownher.”
“You’ve known Raven for eight years?” I chew on that for a minute as I try to tally all the friends of hers I’ve met over time, and I can’t think of any since before our father died over a millionyearsago.
“That’s right. She was my roommate at Briggs. She and I were inseparable up until she blew up in the advertising world. Now that she’s globe-trotting—shooting underwear ads all over the planet, I’m more of a texting BFF than anythingtangible.”
“Did you say underwear ads?” A brief vision of meeting up with her on location flits through my mind. I’ve seen those underwear catalogs lying around, and the chicks are smoking hot. I bet Raven is in charge of an entire calendar’s worth. And just as the thought enters my mind, I blink it away. I don’t need a girl in my life right now. I’m still too steeped in survival mode to sustain anything withanybodyelse.
“Down, boy.” She sneers at me. “It’smaleunderwearmodels.”
“Shit.” I hit the brakes a little too hard as I come upon a red light. “Why did you have to tell me that?” I close my eyes for a second, trying to deflect any visuals of my sweet baby sis surrounded by oiled up men with their hoses front andcenter.
“Oh, did I hurt you?” Her voice grows tiny and weak, fueled with enough sarcasm to let me know I’m in for it. “That’s right! Sweet little baby Raven is surrounded by long, hot, and, oh heck, they’re probably hard—penises all the livelong day! And if that’s not bad enough for you, she volunteered to oil those boys up herself before each and every shoot.She’s touching those bad boys—smearing her hands over those rock-hard chests! And just before they get in front of the camera—she pulls open that waistband and makes sure their junk is in prime position for their close-up,baby!”
A groan evicts itself from my throat. She couldn’t have sucker punched me better if she aimed straight for my balls. I drive us to The Sloppy Pelican, and she points to a beat-up Honda sitting near thedumpsters.
“You can follow me the rest of the way.” It comes out depleted because, let’s face it, she’s won thisround.
“Perfect,” she snaps back as if it wereanythingbut.
She jumps out before I come to a stop and slams the door shut like agunshot.
She never did introduceherself.
Raven is going to owe meforthis.
Bigtime.
The driveto Hollow Brook Hills is a dark and silent one. The Hills are known for their enclave of overgrown homes with far too many square feet and far too few occupants. Meredith lives in the house we once shared just two miles to my left, but my home, the one we had bought as a rental property is of a humble size with a humble yard, sitting in the middle of a not so humble neighborhood. I’ll admit, it’s been quiet these last few months. I have never lived alone up until this point in my life. First, there was my rambunctious family, sharing a room with my brother—a despicable excuse for a human whom I once deeply loved. And then I lived with Brody, my college roommate whom I would never even dream of saddling Harlow with if he happened to be down on his luck. And, of course, then with Mer. And here we are. I pull into the driveway and frown at the Honda sputtering to a stop in front of the house. And now I’ll live with a lunatic for an unspecified spate of time. I think it’s only fair I dock Raven a gift at Christmas next year for this crime against my sanity. Wasn’t she the one begging me to take things slow? Lay low and avoid the estrogen-ladenradar?
Lay Low. I huff at the irony. And just like that, my sister’s caustic instructions come back to me. Under no circumstances am I tolayLow.
I hop out and meet the girl on the porch. The tension streaming from her is palpable, but she’s beautiful. Damn beautiful, and for a second my mind plays tricks on me, and I want to believe she’s a barfly I picked up for a one-night stand. Now that would be a happy ending to this nightmare of anevening.
She scoots her tiny little body in close, and the faint scent of her sweet perfume lights up my senses. It’s been so long since I’ve had anyone of the female persuasion this close, smelling this good—this irate at metoboot.
“I bet you want to carry me over the threshold, don’t you?” she snips, those eyes of hers wild with rage onceagain.
“No, sweetheart, I don’t.” A brief smile comes to my lips as I examine her under the soft glow of the porch light. Her lips are pleasantly round and protruding, and something about the way she’s pouting makes me want to lean in and press my mouth over hers. I’ve never been the caveman type, but there’s a part of me that wants to toss her onto the couch and teach her a lesson with every inch ofmybody.
I give a hard blink before snapping to. I blame my caveman mentality on the fact the only time I’ve had a hot chick back at my place was to dojustthat.
I open the door and extend my hand, and she jumps inside, her heels clacking over the hardwood floors as if she were evading a serialkiller.
