Chapter 8
eight
. . .
Colin
The women had invited us to go with them to the party down the beach, but I didn't feel like going anywhere after a day in the sun.
Ace left and I was just as glad to have the place to myself.
I took a shower and sat down on the couch to watch television.
There was a massive screen on the wall, but even a massive screen couldn't make any of the crummy content on the streaming channels look intriguing.
I ended up on a movie I'd already seen only because I knew it didn't entirely suck.
I paused the television and headed to the kitchen.
As I walked past the glass doors that led out to the pool, something moved outside.
I figured it was a neighbor's cat or even just my imagination.
I walked to the refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice.
Ace had stocked the fridge for the week, but nothing else sounded good.
I turned back around and was sure I saw something move out on the patio. I put down the glass and slid open the door. Solar lights lit up the corners of the otherwise dark patio.
A rustling sound pulled my attention to a nearby chaise lounge.
"Hey, what are you doing?" I called.
The figure jumped off the lounge and ran. My knee was going to be pissed again, but I gave chase. The person didn't get far. I grabbed an arm that was covered in an oversized black sweatshirt. My black sweatshirt.
"What the fuck? Are you following me?" I spun her around. The hair was different but that face—I'd know it anywhere.
"Why the hell would I follow you?" She wrenched her arm free. "You're trespassing."
"Uh, I think you're the one trespassing, and you're doing it in my jacket."
She stared at me in confusion, then dropped her eyes to the sweatshirt. "It's you. What the hell are you doing here?"
"Think I should be asking you that question. I'm a visiting guest, invited here by the owner."
She lifted a skeptical brow at me.
"Well, the owner's son anyhow. And you are here because …?"
She sighed and glanced into the house. "Where is he?" she asked.
"Where is who?"
"The owner's son," she scoffed. "Why are the pretty ones always empty-headed?"
"Nice. My friend is at a party. And, as I recall, I gave you my sweatshirt and saved your ass by sending Gregor looking for a phantom car."
Her long lashes dropped, and she nodded contritely. "Yes, you're right. I owe you for that, but for now can we just pretend I'm not here. Just need to crash on this lounge tonight. I'll be gone in the morning."
I stared at her. "How the hell did we end up together again?"
"I guess it's a small world." She sat on the chaise lounge.
A black backpack was stuffed under it. It was impossible not to stare at her incredible legs as she stretched them out on the cushion.
Her feet were bare, and she had a tiny band of stars tattooed around her ankle.
She wrapped the sweatshirt around herself, then leaned forward and peered at me past the side of the lounge.
"You don't mind if I wear this tonight? It's going to get chilly. "
"Like I said, you can keep it. Why don't you come inside for a while?
" If I knew one thing about my friend Ace, he would never be opposed to me inviting a beautiful woman inside the beach house, even one that ran from heavyweight fighters and snuck onto people's private pool patios.
"There's popcorn, and you could watch some television. "
She pulled the sweatshirt tighter. "Probably best if I stay out here."
"Yeah? You sure about that? Hey, where's your camera?"
She sat up quickly and looked over her shoulder at me. "Why do you ask?"
I put up my hands. "Just curious. Don't get all bent about it. The last time we met, you were wearing a camera and my sweatshirt. Now it's just the sweatshirt."
Her shoulders relaxed. "Yeah, well the camera is in a secure location." She eyed me suspiciously again. "They didn't set this up, did they?" She turned and placed her feet on the ground as if planning to run again. "Are you working for them?"
I laughed. "Working for who? Aside from my hoodie, what the fuck do you have yourself wrapped up in, wood sprite? Like the white hair, by the way. Goes with the rest of you, of which there isn't a whole hell of a lot."
"If you're done insulting me, you can go inside and pretend I'm not here."
"Where was the insult? You're almost too incredible to be real. You look like you flapped your sparkly little wings and flew out from some magical forest."
"As if I haven't heard that pickup line a million times before." she huffed.
"Have you?" At this point all I could see was her doll-like profile and those damn legs, long considering her size.
"Well, not that one exactly. Now, if you'd let me sleep, I'd really appreciate it."
"Yep. That's fine. By the way, never had any need for a pickup line." I slid open the glass door and went inside.
I walked into the kitchen and put the popcorn into the microwave. The distinct scent of buttery popcorn filled the air.
Seconds later, there was a knock on the glass door, then it slid open. "Need to pee."
"Uh, just down the hallway and first door on the …" She was already at the bathroom before I could finish my directions. "Ok, just make yourself at home," I muttered. I filled a bowl with popcorn and sat on the couch.
I heard her small footsteps hurrying down the hallway. I pretended to be watching the television, but my radar was behind me, thinking about those legs and those eyes and that attitude.
She leaned over the back of the couch and reached into the bowl of popcorn. "I washed them," she said.
"Good to know." Several pieces of popcorn fell on my shoulder. I plucked them off and ate them. "Why don't you take a seat, so you can eat the popcorn without looming over me like a messy little bird?"
She strolled around the end of the couch, plopped down a cushion away and tried to stack her slim feet on the coffee table.
Her legs didn't reach, so she pulled them up and put them on the couch.
She grabbed one of the loose pillows and hugged it.
She was still wearing the sweatshirt. She'd even pulled the hood up.
I held the bowl in front of her, and she dug out another fistful. "I hate the fake butter on this stuff," she said as she shoved it into her mouth.
"I can find you something else to eat. You look hungry."
She shrugged. "Nah, I don't like to eat late." She grabbed another handful and peered at me from under the edge of the hood. "Popcorn doesn't really count because it's mostly air."
"Right. Good point. Beer? Lots of air there, too."
"Nope. Not staying long enough to down a beer.
" She turned slightly so that she was resting in the corner of the couch.
She was still holding onto the pillow. Her blue eyes were like sapphires, and the twinkle of mischief in them only made her that much hotter.
"So, your buddy owns this place, eh? How do you know each other? "
"We're on the same snowboarding team. Been competing together since we were teens."
She nodded. "Yep, I took you for one of those pretty jock types."
"Not sure I'm loving being called pretty. That's twice now."
"Would you say I'm pretty?"
I paused. "Why do I feel like this is a trick question?"
She shrugged. "Nope, just a straightforward question." She tugged the hood down and settled deeper into the cushions. "But since you hesitated, I'll assume—"
"Yes, of course, you're pretty. You're fucking gorgeous. There. Happy?"
"Gorgeous? Are wood sprites considered gorgeous? And I don't mind being called pretty, so I'm not sure why you should have a problem with it either."
I stared at her. Her long lashes fluttered drowsily. "Are you his girlfriend?" I asked, suddenly really wanting to know.
"Whose girlfriend? And don't say the king of the forest fairies. We broke up long ago."
I laughed. "No, actually, I was thinking more of that big ogre, Gregor. He sure was mad about something."
"You think I'm the girlfriend of that big, that big—actually ogre works well. Not my type. And trust me, I'm not his type either."
"Oh, you know him that well, do you?"
"Nope, just know I'm not his type. What are you watching? It's all CGI and special effects."
"There's a bit of plot in between the buildings blowing up and the sky falling."
She scooted down and swaddled herself tighter in my sweatshirt. I was inexplicably pleased that she was still wearing it.
"You like that blend of cotton, eh?" I asked.
She peered around the edge of the hood. "I think this couch is disgusting leather."
"No, I meant the sweatshirt. You're still wearing it."
She curled up more. "I like the way it smells. Nice soap."
I inadvertently sniffed my shoulder. "Hmm, I guess I do smell rather nice."
She laughed softly. "You are weird. Pretty and weird." She lifted her hand to stifle a yawn and then scrunched down farther into the pillows. Minutes later she was sleeping.
I muted the television and just watched the screen. I'd seen the movie, so I knew exactly what would happen. Not long after that, my eyes shut, and I fell asleep until loud voices and laughter woke me.
I scooted up and heard a tiny mewling sound next to me. I'd nearly forgotten about my couch friend. "Hey, I think Ace is back. Sounds like he brought some people back to the house. He won't mind that you're here."
I got up and went to the door. Ace came in holding two bottles of tequila and looking as if he'd already downed two others. Two of the women from the beach were right behind him, laughing and stumbling and looking equally drunk.
"Hey, just so you know, Ace, we've got a visitor."
Ace slapped me on the back. "You dawg. Having your own party alone, eh? Is she hot?" He laughed loudly. "What a stupid question to ask a Wilde." Ace spun around and swayed a bit. "Ladies, this is a Wilde, Colin Wilde and his reputation perturbs him."
The women laughed. "I think you mean precedes," one of them said over her laughter. She walked over to Ace and threw an arm around his shoulder. "But you're so cute, it doesn't matter."
Ace was about to start making out right there in the entryway, but I tapped his shoulder hard.
"Uh, bro, just wanted to let you know that we do have a visitor.
I found her out on the chaise lounge. Come on in and meet her.
Shit, I don't even know her name, but she's right here on the—" My words fell off. The couch was empty. She was gone.
Ace laughed so hard he nearly fell to his knees. "How sweet, Colin invented an invisible friend while we were at the party."
"Nope, she wasn't invisible, and I've met her before. At the fight. She was the girl who stole my sweatshirt. She's still wearing the damn thing. No camera this time."
Each of my words seemed to be sobering up my friend. His smile vanished, and he even released the woman he'd been holding. "What do you mean she just showed up in the pool area?"
"She was sitting on the lounge. I thought it was weird because I know the gate is locked and needs a code.
" As I spoke, Ace lumbered across the room to the glass door.
He seemed as serious and sober as a priest as he slid it open.
"Show yourself, brat. I know you're out there.
I've got the place this weekend. You can't just fucking show up. C'mon, Sadie. Get in here."
The rest of us stood and waited. Seconds later, she appeared, still in the sweatshirt. Her backpack hung on her shoulder. She smacked Ace on the chest. The hood fell back, revealing her short white hair.
"What the hell did you do to your hair?" Ace asked. He was never good at reading the room.
"Fuck off and I'm taking the blue room." She pulled the hood back up as she stormed past us and disappeared down the hallway. A door slammed seconds later.
Ace looked at me and at the women who were also somewhat sobered up by the scene. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my pain in the ass sister, Sadie. Now, who's up for some tequila?"