Kiss and Don't Tell(6)

She still seems suspicious but instead of backing away this time, she steps into the entryway.

“Let me take that for you,” Hornsby says as he reaches for her backpack.

She sheds her backpack and then takes off her raincoat as well, revealing an hourglass figure in a pair of black leggings and a tight red top that shows off her cleavage.

Damn.

I think I know what’s going through every guy’s mind in this house—besides Holmes, who hasn’t lifted his head from his book—this girl is hot.

But the question is, are they having déjà vu thoughts like I am? Because I swear I’ve seen her face before.





Chapter Two





WINNIE





Oh God, they’re all looking at me.

I’ve never in my life been in a room with this many solidly attractive men.

I’m pretty sure the one they keep calling Horny is a Disney prince reincarnated. Solid jawline and just a beautiful face. Frankly, he’s too pretty.

Potato, I think that’s his name, the one who owns the house, he’s got that whole “I don’t care about my appearance” look, when we all know he does, which of course makes him even hotter.

The cookie monster has sincerely one of the best smiles I think I’ve ever seen. Full of boyish charm, it makes me want to smile just looking at him.

I can’t see much of the book guy other than his hands, and wow, those are big.

And then there’s the goalie. I can’t quite recall his name. Lawes, maybe? I was too distracted by his glacial-blue eyes and his dark blond hair. It’s longer than I prefer on a guy, hitting him just below his chin, but it’s incredibly sexy on him. Not sure it’s his eyes or the beachy waves in his hair, but he intimidates me, more so than the pretty boy.

But the thing that bothers me the most about the goalie is there’s something vaguely familiar about him. As if I’ve seen him before.

I really shouldn’t be here. Katherine, my best friend and personal bodyguard, would have a heart attack if she knew I just walked into a strange house full of burly men I’ve never met before, men who could easily capture me and hide me in their basement—her words most likely. Every situation I’m in always ends with me held in a basement by my captor, according to her. It took lots of convincing and leaving WITHOUT her blessing in order for me to go on this trip. And I had to promise that if I did wind up in a captor’s basement, that if I called her for help, she gets to tell me “I told you so” first.

I hope stepping into this house isn’t going to prove her right.

But what other options do I really have? I don’t think I would be able to find my car in this storm. I almost slipped and fell multiple times just trying to make it to this house. I can’t imagine going back out there, looking for another safe haven.

When my car got stuck, I realized that I had one option, fill my backpack with as much from my suitcase as I could, along with food and water, and hope for the best.

I’m standing in my only option.

Hand to his chest, the nice one says, “I’m Eli Hornsby. That’s Silas Taters, the owner of the house and your gracious host. On the couch is Halsey Holmes. I doubt you’ll have any interaction with him at all. He keeps to himself. Over there with the big smile, that’s Levi Posey. He likes bologna sandwiches. And then at the kitchen bar is Pacey Lawes. His first name has nothing to do with the show Dawson’s Creek. Just a coincidence. He likes to let everyone know this.”

Pacey.

I love that name. Matches his looks totally.

“And you are . . .”

“Winnie,” I answer. “No correlation to Winnie the Pooh, just a coincidence.” I smirk, and when I glance over at Pacey, I get a smile from him as well.

“What about Winnie from The Wonder Years?” Levi asks.

I point at him. “Now that I can’t be too sure of. Given my mom was a huge fan of Fred Savage, I could see the correlation.”

“My dad was obsessed with her,” Levi says. “I remember watching reruns with him and him telling me over and over about how much he thought he was going to marry Winnie Cooper when he got older. Spoiler alert—he didn’t marry Winnie Cooper, but rather got a lady named Yessica pregnant. A classic drunken night. They didn’t get married, my dad claimed custody, and here I am, a product of whiskey. I think that’s why I like it so much. Whiskey, that is. Fucking good.”

Eli clears his throat. “Posey is a talker.”

“Do you call each other by your last names?” I ask. “Because I’m barely hanging on to who everyone is.” I point to the homeowner. “I know I heard your name, but all I can think of is potato. And I know that’s not your name, but that’s what I want to call you. And Eli, right? I’m having a hard time discerning if you’re Eli or Horny.”

“Both,” Levi says. “And you can call us whatever you’d prefer. Personally, I think I might start calling Taters ‘Potato’. Has a nice ring to it.”

“Don’t even fucking think about it,” Potato says, walking past me with a huff.

I can sense we’re not going to be friends.

“Are you hungry?” Eli asks. “We don’t have a lot of food, but we can offer you a beer and a bologna sandwich. Our chef was supposed to come up tonight and make us some food, but because of the storm, we’re pretty sure he won’t be making his way up here tonight. Hopefully tomorrow.”