“We are not,” Kristen said with a sniffle as she grabbed the delicious chocolate milk and took another sip, wondering if mercenaries had a height requirement.
“I think you’re making a mistake…” Amber said, letting her words trail off.
Taking another sip of the incredibly delicious chocolatey-creamy treat, Kristen sat up and reached back, grabbing hold of the curtain and yanked it back, revealing the evil bastard standing across the street, sipping his coffee while he watched her with a predatory gleam in his eye that somehow managed to piss her off even more.
“Did he just wink?” Amber asked as Kristen released the curtain so that she could fall back over onto the couch with a heartfelt sigh.
“He’s evil,” Kristen said, nodding solemnly even as she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d have better luck as a hitman. She could blend in, fit into small spaces, and she knew how to keep her mouth shut. Thanks to her savings, she could keep her prices competitive, perhaps a two-for-one special to start off with.
She should definitely look into coupons.
“And he owes you,” Amber pointed out, making her sigh since she’d already tried that argument.
“I don’t want anything to do with him,” Kristen said because she refused to pretend that a delicious milkshake, a few Snoballs, and Garrett admitting that he was an asshole were going to make up for everything that he put her through.
It wasn’t.
In fact, she was pretty sure that spending time with the annoying bastard was only going to piss her off more. She-
“You might not have a choice,” Amber said with a pointed look at her computer that had Kristen’s stomach turning.
“I hate him,” Kristen mumbled sadly, knowing that there was nothing else left to say because Amber was right.
She didn’t have a choice, which meant that she was going to have to take matters into her own hands.
CHAPTER 10
“I’m curious about something,” Reed said, joining him by the double bay windows that he installed this morning.
“What’s that?” Garrett asked as he reached down and grabbed a beer from the cooler.
“How do you see this thing ending?” Reed asked, accepting the beer as he pulled his tie loose.
“Badly,” Garrett said as he once again found himself drawn to the small house across the street. “Any advice?”
“Don’t fuck this up,” Reed said, making his lips twitch while he stood there, wondering how long it would be before she broke.
Considering just how badly the little addict needed a fix, probably not long if she was anything like she was when they were little. She couldn’t seem to go more than thirty minutes without writing something before she lost her fucking mind. She wrote in textbooks, on her desk, on the backs of her homework, quizzes, and tests. When she couldn’t get her hands on paper, she wrote on her pants, her sleeve, her arm, his arm, and one time, on his back.
He used to watch her struggle to fight it when they were in school. She’d shift in her chair, narrow her eyes on whatever the teacher was doing in an attempt to force herself to focus, clear her throat, shift, and then, she’d grab onto the edge of her desk while she trembled until finally, she gave in and pulled out the pencil stub she kept hidden in her shoe and started scribbling away before she lost her fucking mind.
When the teacher took her pencil stub away, usually after Kristen tried to make a run for it, he would grab a pen and one of the notebooks he kept in his bag for her and get it to her before the pouting started. Every chance she got, Kristen was writing, which made him wonder just how close she was to losing her fucking mind now that she couldn’t do the one thing that she loved more than anything.
“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Reed asked, moving to lean back against what was left of the living room wall only to rethink that decision as he took a sip of his beer.
“Not even a little fucking bit,” Garrett said, swallowing hard as he watched Kristen’s front door open only to bite back a curse when her assistant walked outside a few seconds later.
“You could still sell the house before it’s too late,” Reed pointed out as Garrett’s gaze locked on her front door, willing Kristen to walk through it.
“Probably,” Garrett murmured absently as he watched Kristen’s assistant close the door behind her before she made her way to her car.
“Uncle Jared would buy it in a heartbeat and if he didn’t, Rory or Trevor would be more than happy to take it off your hands,” Reed said while Garrett absently nodded, unable to help but wonder if he was fucking this up again.
Then again, maybe it was time to accept the fact that she hated him and move on. He should sell this house that wasalready costing him a fucking fortune, go beg for his job back and-
“What’s that sound?” Reed asked, frowning as they took in the large living room that he’d gutted yesterday, searching for the source of that soft clicking noise echoing throughout the large room. “Do you have a leak?”
“God, I really fucking hope not,” Garrett said, placing his beer on the windowsill and grabbed a flashlight off the stack of two-by-fours stacked by the wall.
