This Girl (Slammed #3)(6)

“I’m Will.”

“Kel is name my,” he says.

I stare at him blankly. Was that even English?

“I can talk backwards,” he says, explaining the clutter of words that just came out of his mouth. “Like this. Backwards talk can I.”

Interesting. Someone possibly weirder than Caulder? I didn’t think it was possible.

“Kel . . . you meeting . . . nice . . . was . . . it well,” I say, a little slower than when he does it. He grins, then runs across the street with Caulder. I glance at their house and see that the U-Haul is now parked in the street with the latch shut. I’m disappointed they’ve already unloaded it; I was actually looking forward to helping.

I spend the rest of the evening working overtime for free . . . another side effect of being a teacher. I decide after my shower to make a living room detour to glance across the street for about the tenth time, but I don’t see her.

“Why do you keep looking out the window?” Caulder asks from behind me.

His voice startles me and I snatch the living room curtain shut. I didn’t realize he was sitting on the couch. I walk over to him and pull on his hand, then shove him toward the hallway. “Go to bed,” I say.

He spins around before he closes his bedroom door behind him. “You were looking out the window to see if you could see that girl, weren’t you? Do you like Kel’s sister?”

“Goodnight, Caulder,” I say, ignoring his question.

He grins and closes the door to his room. Before I head to my own bedroom, I walk to the window one more time. When I open the curtain, someone is standing in the window across the street with the curtains partially open. They suddenly snatch shut and I can’t help but smile, wondering if she’s just as curious about me as I am about her.

“IT’S COLD, IT’S cold, it’s cold, it’s cold, it’s cold,” Caulder says, jogging in place while I unlock the car doors. I crank the engine and turn the heat up, then head back inside to get the rest of my things while Caulder waits in the car. When I open the door to head back outside, I stop in my tracks when I see Layken standing in her entryway. She bends down and gathers a handful of snow to inspect it, then quickly drops it. She stands up and steps outside, closing the door behind her. I shake my head, knowing exactly what’s about to happen. It’s snowing and she isn’t even wearing a jacket over her pajama bottoms and shirt. I don’t know what she’s doing, but she won’t last long out here. She’s not in Texas anymore. She begins to make her way to the driveway when my gaze falls on her feet.

Is she wearing house shoes? Seriously? Before I can even yell a warning, she’s flat on her back.

Southerners. They just don’t get it.

She doesn’t move at first. She lies still in the driveway, staring up at the sky. A rush of panic overcomes me, thinking she may be hurt, but then she begins to pull herself up. As much as I don’t want to come off like a bumbling idiot again, I head across the street to make sure she doesn’t need my help.

The look on her face when she pulls one of the gnomes out from beneath her makes me laugh. It’s almost like she’s blaming the poor guy for her fall. She pulls her arm back to throw him when I stop her.

“That’s not a good idea!” I yell, making my way up her driveway. She tilts her head up and looks at me with a death grip on the gnome. “Are you okay?” I ask, still laughing. I can’t help but laugh, she looks so pissed!

Her cheeks redden and she glances away. “I’ll feel a lot better after I bust this damn thing.”

I take the gnome out of her hands when I reach her. “You don’t want to do that, gnomes are good luck.” I place the freshly injured gnome back in his spot before she destroys him completely.

“Yeah,” she says, inspecting her shoulder. “Real good luck.”

I immediately feel guilty when I see the blood on her shirt. “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have laughed if I knew you were hurt.” I assist her up and get a better look at the amount of blood coming from her injury. “You need to get a bandage on that.”

She looks back to her house and shakes her head. “I wouldn’t have any clue where to find one at this point.”

I glance at our house, knowing I have a full supply of bandages in the first-aid kit. I’m hesitant to offer them, though, since I’m already running late for work as it is.

I’m looking at my house, struggling with my indecision, when all five of my senses are suddenly flooded. The slightest smell of vanilla that permeates the air around me . . . the sound of her accent when she speaks . . . the way her close proximity wakes up something inside me that’s long been dormant. Holy hell. I’m in trouble.

Work can wait.

“You’ll have to walk with me. There are some in our kitchen.” I take my jacket off and wrap it around her shoulders, then help her across the street. I’m sure she can walk on her own, but for some reason I don’t want to let go of her arm. I like helping her. I like the way she feels leaning against me. It seems . . . right.

Once we’re inside my house, she follows me through my living room as I head to the kitchen to find a bandage. I pull the first-aid kit out of the cabinet and remove a Band-Aid. When I glance back at her, she’s looking at the pictures on our wall. The pictures of my mom and dad.