Page 10 of Spark

Time to pretend you’re a normal human being.

After climbing out, he headed to the building and hit the button by her apartment number on the intercom at the door.

“Hello?” A female voice crackled through the speaker.

“Here to pick up Sutton.”

“Um, would you be able to come up? I think I need some help with my gifts.”

Christ. Was he supposed to get gifts? “Sure.”

“I’m on the second floor.”

She let him in, and he headed up. He chose the stairs, using the time to shake out his shoulders, unlock his jaw, and work at dropping the frown he knew he’d been wearing the last two weeks. It wasn’t helping.

He reached her door and scowled at the giant wreath threaded with red and green ribbon and covered in little gold bells. He took a deep breath and knocked.

“Coming!” she called from inside.

Dex cursed under his breath. This chick sounded way too damn happy.

There was a bump against the door, followed by the sound of locks disengaging, and then the door opened.

Dex took a step back to give her room—and froze.

His breath got trapped in his lungs.

She stepped out, hands full of Christmassy gift bags. She hadn’t looked at him yet, mainly because she couldn’t see over all the shit she was carrying. But he could see the side of her face, the extreme curves of her body—shit, could smell her familiar scent.

Hattie put her gifts down, pulled the door shut, and turned to him with a smile on her face.

She jumped, a startled noise escaping her lips. Her eyes widened and she retreated a step, her back meeting the door with a thud. “Dex? What are you…what are you doing here?”

What the ever-loving fuck was going on?

“How did you find me?” she said, like he was some kind of crazed stalker.

It was hard, but he managed to unhinge his jaw, despite his own shock—and other feelings he was currently having at seeing Hattie again. She was wearing a red dress that hugged her tits and flared out at her hips. Her shoes were sparkly red, like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, and her hair was down in big soft waves.

His gaze dropped to her mouth all on its own. Her lips, which he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about, were glossy and red as well, and she had tiny flashing Rudolf earrings hanging from her ears.

“You’re Lucy’s friend?” he gritted out.

Somehow her eyes got even wider. “Y-yes.”

“Fuck,” Dex bit out.

“You’re her…cousin?”

He dipped his chin, heart banging like hell in his chest. “She said your name was Sutton.” A stupid fucking feeling of betrayal moved through him at the thought of her giving him a fake name.

Her mouth worked several times, then she seemed to snap out of it. “It is—Hattie Sutton. Lucy’s always called me Sutton, and I call her Colton.” She swallowed, her delicate throat working. “So your last name is Colton as well?”

“Yeah.” Dex couldn’t believe this was happening. Out of all the bars, all the people in this city, it was Hattie who crossed his path.

They both stood staring at each other for several long minutes. And the same intense feelings he’d felt that night, that weird feeling of being drawn to her, filled Dex’s chest to overflowing.

“You left,” he said—Christ, blurted—unable to stop himself.