But that, too, she schooled. "So, if you're going to stalk me home, want to tell me what is in the bag? You look like you're either about to make a drug drop or you're one of those guys who walks around with a gym bag far more than necessary."
"That's a kind of guy?"
"Yeah. They usually play rugby or lacrosse."
He nodded thoughtfully. "But neither, actually. This is for you."
"You got me drugs?" she joked.
He tipped his head toward her with a raised eyebrow. "Would that get you to go on a date with me?"
Her heart sped up.
"I'm not like my mom," she replied sharply. Was she being grumpy because she wanted him to mean it and he couldn't, but he couldn't be blamed for that, so...she was just frustrated? "Sorry," she mumbled, feeling like an ass.
A warm hand gently wrapped around her wrist stopping her. She turned to look up at him and gone was the grinning football player. Jeremy was looking at her like he was concerned. She wasn't sure she had seen this face look anything but content, happy or joking. This was new and made her pause.
"I've never thought that."
She snorted softly. "Everyone thinks that."
His prominent eyebrows pulled in and he released her wrist as he shook his head. "Our parents don't get to own our story, Bess."
The way he said it wasn't shallow. He wasn't speaking words that he had never thought before. It made her wonder about hislife, his family. He was from a family that had a house too large for their two parents and two kids. She'd never been inside his house, but his older sister had a few notorious parties there and the Bracker house was known.
Three stories, the colonial-style mansion was stately, statuesque, and beautiful. However, she always thought it too much. Possibly a little too sharp and cold. And now his words made her wonder what was inside of the house.
"I know," she replied, this time gently. She was about to ask him about his parents when his uncharacteristically somber face split into a grin.
"Want to see what I got you? You'll have no choice but to fall head over heels for me."
She narrowed her eyes at him before she nodded toward the bag that he was unzipping. The top was mesh, she realized, and as he unfolded the flap an orange head popped out making her jump. Staring back at her were two hazel eyes. The creature was an orange tabby, tilting its head to look her over like she was looking over it.
She blinked twice before her eyes switched from cat to teenage boy watching her with his blue eyes that were still shocking to look into.
"You got me a cat?"
He nodded.
"You," she shook her head trying to gather her thoughts. "Why? Why would you bring me a cat? Who does that?"
He shrugged, undeterred by her obvious shock.
"Seemed better than flowers. You like cats. Your whole vibe is kind of like a cat."
She couldn't help the half grin from forming. "Well, yeah," she replied. "But you don't just buy a girl you hope to date a cat."
"I didn't buy him."
Her eyebrows jumped. Her hands were holding onto her book bag straps tightly, turning her knuckles white.
"Jeremy! That could be someone's cat! You might be under a hex, but committing grand larceny is still a crime."
"Mmm would it be grand larceny? No offense to Tom Hanks here, but I don't think he qualifies. And I didn't steal him.
She laughed. "Tom Hanks?"
When he held out the slender, striped animal she took him carefully. Their hands brushed as she pulled the cat into her chest, ignoring the zing she felt when Jeremy's fingers moved with the cat, seeming to want to stay connected to hers.
