Out of Love(8)

Not a chance.

“Absolutely.” I returned a tight grin as they retreated to their car parked on the street. My gaze shifted to the firehouse for a few seconds before I shut the door and leaned my back against it.

“What the hell?” Missy rushed me from the kitchen. “Dude … he seriously called the cops on you! Wow … what did you do to piss him off?”

“I don’t know. But he’s not winning.”

“Wait? What? No.” She shook her head a half dozen times. “There is no winning, Livy. You’ve known him … and I use that word lightly … for two days. I don’t think you should interpret the police at our door as a game.”

Trapping my lower lip between my teeth, I slanted my head and narrowed my eyes. “What do you suppose he’s doing in that house? The rent is outrageous. No one in their right mind moves into the firehouse. It’s haunted. Everyone knows that. I don’t care where he’s been. It’s just common knowledge.”

Missy shook her head. “I think it’s a ginormous fuck-off. If I sold drugs, could afford my own place, and wanted privacy, I would rent that place.”

On a laugh I rolled my eyes. “No you wouldn’t. The only person who believes it’s haunted more than I do, is you.”

“True. I’m saying if I were a hot, fearless drug dealer … then I would totally rent the place. I bet the ghosts are freaked out by him.”

“Maybe.” I glanced at my watch. “I’m running an errand.”

“Beach?”

I pulled my ponytail up higher on my head and twisted it into a bun. “No. I have something I need to do.”

“As long as it doesn’t have anything to do with him.”

Without making eye contact, I slid my hand into my back pocket to check for my bank card. “Pfft …” I rolled my eyes to stress the absurdity.





Chapter Four





After a quick trip in my Jeep to The Panting Barkery, I stood at the end of Slade’s driveway, rehearsing my speech. When the words refused to do anything but fumble from my mouth, I opted to just go with whatever came to mind in the moment.

Three solid knocks later, the front door creaked open. Dark, unwelcoming eyes shot me a bored gaze.

“If I stressed out Jerry, I’m sorry.” I held up a bag from the dog bakery. “I’m sure you’ve trained him to be a guard dog. My trespassing…” I made air quotes “…probably confused him. You know … your clear anger mixed with his obvious love for me.” The handsome dog appeared at his side, snagging my attention. “Hey, Jerry. I brought you treats.” I pulled out a cow ear … fur still on it.

“Place,” Slade said.

Jericho whined.

“Place,” he said again with the slightest edge to his tone as if he wasn’t used to giving a command more than once.

I frowned when the dog disappeared into the house. “Fine. Give it to him when you see fit. Your dog. Your rules.” As I slipped the ear back into the bag, the door slammed in my face. A grin quirked my mouth. It had been a while since someone caught my interest the way Slade Wylder did. Before meandering home, I left the sack by the door.

The next morning, I set off to class early enough to wait in the back corner for my favorite distraction. Just when I thought about giving up and picking a seat, Slade and Jericho slipped into the auditorium at the far door. He took his usual seat on the end of a row. Luck winked at me, bringing the empty seat beside him into view.

“Morning, Jerry.” I scratched his head, grinned at my scowling neighbor, and nodded to his legs—knees nearly hitting the seat in front of him. “Excuse me, please.”

Slade didn’t move an inch. “Does your insurance cover prosthetics?” he asked with his eyes on the empty lectern at the front of the room, like he was talking to himself.

“Why?” I stepped over both of his legs and plunked my ass into the seat next to him.

“Because I warned you.”

After depositing my bag on the floor and plucking my water bottle from the side pocket, I propped my unlaced white sneakers up on the chair in front of me and peered over at … well, quite possibly the most formidable and sexiest man my eyes had ever seen.

The chaotic hair.

The thick stubble shadowing his face.

The intensity of those eyes.

But the lips … so damn full.

The fact that they were pulled into a firm line of contempt for me was unfortunate but not a deal-breaker—not yet.

I refused to acknowledge his earlier threat to rip my fucking arm off. “Do you sleep well? I heard you’re out until the early hours of the morning. Is it the ghosts? The firehouse is haunted.” I sipped my water and rubbed my lips together. “I’ve read they’re most active between midnight and three in the morning. Do you set an alarm? Where do you go for those three hours?”

Slade could burn me to the ground with a look … without blinking.

Not. One. Blink.

His hand, resting on his leg, flexed, accentuating the veins in his arms. Vein porn. Yeah … I liked veiny arms. Unmarked, veiny arms. My dad’s tattoos made unmarred flesh my kryptonite. I had no intention of crushing on a guy like my dad, even if my family said it would happen, and my dad would suffer the ultimate karma. Whatever that meant.