Casanova(22)

Fifteen minutes later, I announced myself at the gate to Walker House and was let in. Nerves swirled in my stomach as sunlight bounced off my windows. Humming Bruno Mars did nothing to distract me from the almost nauseating sensation as I put the car into park. Even the gorgeous flowers lining the driveway with bright colors weren’t enough to hold my attention when I got out of the car and turned.Then I screamed.

“Whoa.” Brett laughed, grabbing my upper arms so I didn’t fall backward. “Do I look that bad?”

I let go of a harsh breath and sagged back against my car. “Jesus Christ. Do you get off on annoying me or something?”

He paused for a moment and looked up.

Oh my god. He was seriously thinking about that.

“Brett? Please get off me,” I said, wriggling my shoulders when he continued to lean over me.

“Sorry.” He stepped back and wiped his hand through his wet hair. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me through your amazing singing.”

I pursed my lips and met his gaze. “This isn’t getting off to a very good start, is it?”

“Sorry, sorry. Again.” He held his hands up. “Do you want me to carry anything for you?”

“Okay, now you’re fucking with me.”

“I’m trying to be nice.”

“Too hard. You’re trying too hard.”

“Shit,” Camille said from the doorway. “You can’t even get through the damn door before you start bitching. This was a bad idea.”

I shot her a dark look that screamed, “Yeah, no kidding,” and stalked past Brett. Wisely, I’d put on ballet flats with my outfit today. Then again, as I felt Brett’s hot gaze on me, maybe the shorts weren’t so smart.

“Stop staring at her ass before she kicks you,” Cam snapped, moving to the side so I could walk through the front door.

“Hey,” Brett replied behind me. “She wanted me to be nice, so I am. I’m appreciating her ass. That’s nice.”

I took a deep breath and blew it out through pursed lips. I was going to ignore that. I could already see that sarcasm was the only response I was going to get today. This was going to be harder work than I thought it would be.

The house really hadn’t changed since the last time I was here, and freakily enough, I remembered it the way I remembered the lines of my favorite movies. I walked through to the library in seconds and then moment I walked through the door, took a deep breath as the musky scent of old books assaulted me.

God, I loved that smell.

Books. They smelled like adventure and love and escape.

“Are you getting high on books?” Brett murmured from right behind me.

“Am I reading one?”

“No.”

“Then, no, I’m not.” I stepped fully into the library and crossed it to where there was a large, fluffy corner sofa. Sunlight streamed in through the window, so I took the corner spot where the sun wasn’t brightening. My laptop screen might have been anti-glare, but that didn’t mean my eyes were.

“I have a question,” Camille said when Brett sat on the opposite side of the sofa to me.

“Hmm?” I said, pulling my laptop out of its bag.

“Do you have any idea where you’re supposed to start?”

“No. I’m still waiting to hear all the bad things so I can figure out how I’m supposed to turn them into something good.” I cut Brett a heavy look, but if he caught it, he ignored it. “Worse, I’m waiting for him to tell me something even remotely redeeming about himself that I can use to show your dad that I am actually trying here.”

“Wouldn’t worry too much,” she answered. “I think Dad’s earmarked at least nine months for this in his schedule.”

“It’s like he doesn’t trust me at all.” Brett smirked.

“Nine months?” I squealed. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t want to be in this freaking town in nine months. I want to go home.”

Camille tilted her head to the side. “Aren’t you selling your car and moving out of your apartment?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Well, yes.”

“Then you want to stay.”

“I don’t want to stay. I just don’t want to pay rent on an apartment I’m not living in, even if I don’t have to pay rent at Grandma’s house.”

“Sounds like you want to stay to me.” Brett peered at me.

I offered him a withering look. “Of course it does. But trust me, I don’t.”

“Then why not ship your car instead of buying a new one?”

“Because it’s a waste of money?”

“And buying a new one isn’t?”

“I’m sorry,” I snapped, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I forgot what business it is of yours.”

He turned and rested his arm on the back of the sofa. “It’s not. But I’m good at getting involved in things that don’t concern me.”

I’m not sure why he was telling me that. It was painfully obvious. “I’m staying for my sister because she needs me. When she’s ready, I’ll leave again. Now can we please get to the point of this conversation?”

He threw his arm out. “Fine.” He pinned me with his gray-blue gaze. “Where shall we start?”