“Then you’re fine.”
He gives me the middle finger.
I sigh, “Camp is in the Parish hall, anyway.”
“Perish— as in DIE?” he shrieks. “What sick fuck decided to host a kids’ camp where they have funerals?”
“No, you drama king, it’s like an event and office space.”
“A funeral is an event.”
“I’m done.”
He squints skeptically. Sips his coffee again. Wrinkles his nose. “It gives me The Heebs.”
“Thewhat?”
Unbuckling his seatbelt, he shrugs. “You know, like The Creeps. Uncanny. Bad Juju. Weird vibes. Spooky-Ooky.”
My lips press into an unamused line.
He grins— a devious thing. “My bad. In Bible Humper terms: the place feels possessed or something.”
I shut off the idling engine. “Why are you even here?”
“Oh, trust me, I don’t want to be, but the pros outweigh the cons.” Counting off on his fingers, “AC, all my hours done in one week, an excuse to do crafts,andmost importantly, no trash pick up on the beach like an inmate. I’d say it’s a no-brainer, Saint Sebastian.”
“Stop calling me that.”
He nods solemnly and snags his bottom lip with a canine. “You’re right, the whole thing is a mouthful.” Gears whirl in his crazy head until his entire face lights up. “How about Saint Seba?”
My keys slip. Only a very select few people call me Seba. Hearing my nickname from his mouth is strange. I don’t know how to feel about it.
“No.”
He feigns consideration, scanning me from my hair, down mynose, my lips, to the cross pendant resting on my chest, then back to my eyes. Honey and glacier blue bore into me.
A small, yet genuine smile softens his features, revealing a glimmer of warmth.
“But I like it. It suits you.”
Goosebumps sweep across my skin.Must be the AC.
Shaking out of the weird trance, I mutter, “whatever,” and reach behind his seat for my backpack, unzipping the main pocket and tossing one of the lunch bags Mom packed for us into his lap. Cade isn’t remotely interested in her desperate attempts to suck up to him. If I’m being honest, I’m not surewhathe makes of her. It’s not like he’s hostile or rude; he’s just indifferent.
Unlike me, who he can’t seem to leave alone.
“Admit it, you like it,” he chuckles.
“Do you ever shut up?”
His devilish smirk returns; the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
“Never.”
Christ help me.I’m convinced Cade Warren is Satan himself, testing my restraint. And I’m failing miserably.
I need to get the fuck away from him.
