I’d practiced getting out of bad situations my whole life and my overactive imagination was already thinking of ways to escape. Lock picking, tunnel digging, knocking people out and untying knots were all part of my skill set. My sister’s skill set was being a skank, being a bitch, being a world class manipulative psycho, and winding men around her little finger. She had big old fake tits that seemed to make men dumb. Mine weren’t bad, but nothing like the boobzilla shit she had going on.
I decided to switch things up while I waited for him. I sang Wind Beneath my Wings in what is actually my normal voice instead of my Britney screech. Evidently, the guy who opened the door didn’t mind because he let me finish the song before he spoke.
“I never knew you could sing.”
I sighed. “Can I at least look at you when I talk to you? I mean if you really think I’m Sarah, then logic would have it that I’ve seen you before.”
Grit crunched beneath the boots as he slowly walked around to face me. When I got my first glimpse at him I was pretty sure I was going to faint. It was my Spanish god, and up this close, even in shitty lighting, he was seriously hot—hot enough that despite the circumstances of our meeting, my body responded to him with a surge of hormonal warmth.
A black knit hat with some kind of small patch on it sat tight to his skull, and the thick black hair that curled out of the edges looked incredibly soft. He had beautiful deep-set, brown eyes and a nice square jaw with a five o’clock shadow. I’m guessing he was around ten years older than my twenty with the faintest of sun lines around his eyes to prove it. His lips had a cruel twist to them, and when I glanced back up at his dark eyes again, I was blown away by how absolutely sexy he was. This was the kind of man that made women swoon. I was glad I was sitting down because my knees were weak as I took the rest of him in. He wore some kind of vest with patches all over it and he caught me looking at them. My brain decided this was a good time to blurt out any random thing that came to mind.
“What’s with all the patches? You look like some overachieving Boy Scout.”
Evidently that was the wrong thing to say because he crouched down in front of me with a pissed off gleam in his dark eyes. In addition to making me slightly paranoid about the outside world, growing up isolated from everyone had led to me being a bit socially awkward. I have large breasts and a bubble butt, so guys usually didn’t care when I stumbled over my words and blushed, but I hated it. I envied people who were smooth in social situations. I studied them and tried to figure out how they got so comfortable with themselves. So far, that inner peace eluded me and I tended to miscalculate situations sometimes. See, I was born with a terrible disease called ‘being a sarcastic bitch’. I think it’s a genetic condition from my mother’s side. Generally, I keep it in check, but during stressful times I tend to get snippy and say the wrong shit.
He stared at me and I sucked in a quick breath, overwhelmed by the scent of his cologne and his warmth. He was close enough now that I could see that he had rather lovely pale gold flecks in his brown eyes, along with hints of amber. Beautiful eyes for a guy. And his tan skin made him look like some kind of bad boy super model, but he had the five o’clock shadow of an older man.
Yum.
Then, being the sweet talker that I am, I opened my mouth and proved once again why I’m still a virgin at twenty. “So can I get the hell out of here yet? As you know since you’re stalking me, I have a shift to catch at five tonight, and I need the money to cover my mortgage. That is if it’s not already tonight, in which case, I’ll need to call my boss and let him know I won’t be in.”
He blinked at me and cocked his head to the side. I seemed to baffle him. Well, that made two of us. Slowly shaking his head, he said in a low voice, “Sweetheart, I don’t think you realize the situation you’re in.”
I swallowed hard, then nodded. “Educate me.”
“You know you look just like Sarah.”
“Wait, let’s just cut to the chase. Sarah has short hair, mine is long.”
His lips curved just the slightest bit into a sexy, yet annoying smirk. “Could be a wig.”
“A wig? This is not a wig. Feel it. Go on.”
Dazzled by his presence, my mind was not working as well as it usually did. Case in point, encouraging a stranger to touch me.
He blinked at me and I could have sworn he was trying not to smile. Standing, he looked down at me and ran his fingers through my hair, or tried to. It was a little tangled from being shoved up under a hood. When I winced he made a low, rumbling noise. “Sorry, baby girl. I’ll brush it for you later.”