There’s always been something about Karley. This easy way of pulling people in without even trying. I remember when Declan asked me to help make her feel welcome, back when they had just reconnected. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than that. Just a favor. But the banter started quickly, and before I realized it, talking to her became my favorite part.
I chortle at her adorable reaction. “I think I’ll make some toast.”
“Help yourself,” she says, her tone lighter now. Maybe she was just hungry.
I’ll keep that in mind.Karley gets snappy when she’s hungry.
I wander around the kitchen, grabbing a plate and some jelly from the fridge. I feel her eyes on me as I move, and when I glance up, our gazes lock for a brief moment before she looks away, continuing to eat. She makes it clear she’s not going to start a conversation.
“What are we watching?” I ask, glancing across the room at the TV screen.
A sigh escapes her. “I’m watching something that will hopefully make you leave.”
“Is it reality TV? Because I hate to break it to you, but I secretly love that shit.” I wink.
“It’s a drama rom-com calledNobody Wants This.”
I reach for the cupboard door, and her eyes widen slightly as I lean in. “Sounds amazing. I can’t wait to watch it after I eat.”
I smile to myself as I grab a plate.
“God, you’re annoying. I don’t know why my brother likes being your friend.”
I move to grab a knife when my toast pops, and I spread on the peanut butter and jelly. On impulse, I hold it up to her lips. “Try it with jelly.”
She pushes my arm away. “I know what peanut butter and jelly tastes like.”
“But I make it the best.”
She arches her eyebrow. “It’s peanut butter and jelly. It’s not difficult.”
I wink again, trying to rile her up more, hoping a little fun might soften her. “You’d be surprised.”
She huffs, her cheeks flushing, and I expect her to snap at me. “Fine. Give me your amazing toast.”
She closes her eyes, parting her lips before she takes a bite, then opens her eyes, her bright blue gaze assessing me critically.
After she swallows, she replies, “As I thought… No difference.”
I hiss, pretending to be offended. “Harsh critic. Maybe you should be onMasterChef?”
“I have no desire to do that.” She spins around, putting her plate in the dishwasher, and moves to walk past me.
“Wait up,” I call. My heart races. This isn’t going how I planned. I seem to be upsetting her when my goal was just to hang out with her until Declan gets home.
She pauses, her eyebrows knitting. “What?”
I step forward and swipe my thumb gently across the corner of her full bottom lip, ignoring the slight hitch in her breath. Shepulls back and wipes her mouth roughly herself. “I got it,” she says, turning and heading into the living room. I finish my toast, watching her walk away.
My mind drifts to that night at the party; her hopeful expression just before she leaned in, the hurt in her eyes when I pulled back. I’d been trying to do the right thing; she’s Declan’s little sister.
“Oliver!”
“Sorry. I’m coming.”
I leave my plate and move into the living room. I keep getting distracted by the little things she does, like the way she wrinkles her nose when she’s annoyed at me, or how her eyes brighten when she’s about to deliver a smart remark. I need to focus.
I move into the living room where she’s curled up on one sofa, while the other is empty.
