I am staring into the eyes of the hottest man I have ever seen. Tall and broad. Thick dark blond hair that falls in shaggy waves around his face. He’s wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt, despite the cold Michigan morning. But I’m not complaining—it shows off his hard, muscled arms.
Which I notice because for some inexplicable reason, he’s holding his hand out to me. I finally realize that he means to help me up from where I’ve fallen on the sidewalk. Dazed, I reach out. A zing of electricity jolts through my body as our hands touch. When I’m back on my feet, he drops my hand, but his gaze remains steady on my face.
“I know you, right?” I say.
The man chuckles and runs a hand through his lush hair. “Um, I don’t think so,” he says. “I think I’d remember someone like you.”
I’m sure we’ve crossed paths before. Something in my gut tells me so. But then I process his words. Oh, shit. I must look like a nightmare. I glance down at my ugly sweats and t-shirt. I haven’t brushed my teeth or my hair, and I’m sure I’ve got dark circles under my eyes.
“Oh, um,” I stutter. “Yeah. Sorry. I’m normally not dressed like this. I’m just, uh…you know, staying in that motel across the street. Because my roommate—well, my ex-roommate now—tossed me out into the street, so I had to, um, stay there, and I’m here now because I don’t feel well. But I’m not contagious!”
Shut up shut up shut up, I think. But my mouth keeps moving. “I’m only staying there for a few nights and then I’m going to find my own place. It’s tough to find someplace in my price range, but I guess I don’t really have a choice. Sorry. I have no idea why I’m rambling. I’ll stop now.”
I’m mortified, but the man doesn’t seem offended, or even phased. His eyes twinkle with a hint of a smile as he looks at me. For the second time, he holds out his hand, this time to offer a handshake. “Hi, I’m Jaxon,” he says.
I manage to smile back. “I’m Layla.” When our hands meet, I feel that same jolt of electricity between us. I pause. “Are you sure we haven’t met before?”
Jaxon smiles crookedly, a slow tilt of his lips. The expression reveals deep smile lines, and I fight the urge to swoon. “I really would remember someone as beautiful as you.”
His words shock me.
“I’m beautiful?” I blurt out. I stand in horror for a moment before I think to add, “Wait. Don’t answer that.”
Jaxon laughs. The sound is magical, musical. It’s summer and boyhood and lemonade. I want to swim in his laughter.
“You’re funny,” he says.
I smile awkwardly. “I wish I did it on purpose,” I say. “But that’s me! Funny girl! Funny, word vomit girl.”
Jaxon looks at me. I’m really hoping he’ll choose to ignore my last statement, the latest in a string of embarrassing statements. Thankfully, he does. “Did you mention you were looking for a place to stay?”
“Oh,” I reply. “Yeah. My roommate is having, or trying to have, a baby. Or whatever. She wants my old room for a nursery, so she kicked me out.”
“That’s terrible,” Jaxon says, looking genuinely shocked.
“It was terrible. Especially since right before that, I…” I trail off, realizing I was about to say too much. I couldn’t make sense of the previous night’s events myself, and there’s no way I could explain it to someone else.
“Right before that, you…?” Jaxon prompts me.
I shake my head. “Nothing. I was feeling sick is all. Last night. And…also now. So I came here for pain meds.”
Jaxon nods, and then oddly, but chivalrously, places his hand on the small of my back and leads me into the gas station. I feel the heat of his palm through my T-shirt. Is this real life? I think. Is this hot guy seriously leading me toward gas station pain meds?
Maybe I’m still dreaming.
I grab a couple of bottles and pull my wallet out as Jaxon leads me to the counter, but he waves me off, pulling his own wallet out instead.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say.
“It’s what a gentleman would do,” Jaxon replies as he swipes his card.
I laugh lightly. “But you don’t even know me.”
He gazes down at me. “But I feel like I do,” he says.
I stare up at his face. It truly is an astonishingly handsome face. It’s almost too much to stand in the direct path of his attention. I don’t know what to do with myself.
“Like…like how I said I thought we’d met before?” I stammer.
Jaxon’s face splits into a shockingly shy, boyish smile. He’s grinning, and it lights his whole face up. “Yeah,” he says. “I do feel like that. If it doesn’t sound too weird.”
“I don’t think it sounds too weird,” I say.
When we get back outside onto the sidewalk, Jaxon clears his throat. “I know this is going to sound forward…”
My heart speeds up.
“But you mentioned you’re looking for a new place?”
This isn’t what I was expecting him to say, but my heart doesn’t slow down. Because he’s got that jawline and I can feel the heat of his body shifting the air around us. “Oh, yeah,” I reply. “I forgot that I mentioned that. When I was, you know, babbling. Before. I have this thing where I babble. When I’m nervous.”
Jaxon gives me that crooked smile again, a twinkle of amusement back in his blue eyes. “I make you nervous?” he asks.
I gulp. “No. Well, maybe. You do realize you’re ridiculously hot, right?” I immediately slap my hands over my mouth. I cannot believe I just said that. I had no intention of saying it. The words just flew out of my mouth. I can’t seem to shut up around this guy.
“I’m so sorry,” I finally manage, dropping my hands.
Jaxon shrugs, still smiling. “I like how honest you are,” he says. “Most people aren’t honest at all.”
“Right,” I reply. His eyes roam over my face, and my breathing speeds up.
“Anyway,” he finally says, “I happen to have a room free in the house I live in. It’s actually not far from here. Would you be interested in seeing it?”
I blink at him, and I see a slight hesitation in his eyes.
“Or is this being too forward?” he says. “I don’t want you to think I’m a serial killer or anything.”
I laugh. He does have a good point, though. I finally realize that I probably should be wary. He doesn’t seem like a serial killer, but I suppose you never can tell. But also…why is this smoking hot guy being so nice to me? The word-vomit gas station girl in sweats on an early morning trip to get pain meds?
I shake my head. “That’s okay,” I say. “You don’t have to do that. I can find my own place.”
Jaxon looks at me, then across the street at the motel. “Are you sure? Because I know for a fact that the motel over there has mice.”
“Mice?!”
Jaxon nods. Okay, so maybe this is exactly the kind of ploy a serial killer would use, but it’s enough for me. I can deal with musty bedsheets; I cannot deal with mice.
“My place is actually just a few blocks from here. Come on.” He turns and starts walking, and I find myself following.
In only a few minutes, we’re standing in front of an enormous Victorian house, surrounded on three sides by the forest. A long gravel drive leads to the front porch. Jaxon is walking us up toward the house when I hear a growl come from the darkness of the trees. I freeze, a shiver running up my spine. I know that growl.
Jaxon must have heard it too, because he throws himself in front of me. “Who’s there?”
His eyes scan the forest on either side of us. I’m shocked when it’s not a wild animal that steps out of the trees toward us, but a man. I peek out from behind Jaxon to take him in. Tall, dark, and just as hot as Jaxon, if that’s even possible.
But this man’s complexion is completely different from the friendly warm face of the man walking me up the driveway. This man’s black hair is a sharp contrast to Jaxon’s blond boyish locks, and his hazel eyes aren’t at all amused. I’m not even sure if he’s capable of smiling—I can’t imagine it on his face.
He stands in front of us, his stance wide. He crosses his arms, and I can see the light reflecting on the dark hairs of his muscular arms. His biceps bulge as he stares me down. When he finally speaks, his voice is gruff.
“Who the hell is she?”
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