Carefully, determined, and without pause, I slowly eyeball what I hope is every square inch under Tyler’s window, biting my lower lip in concentration. I look inside the basement window wells, finger through the crunchy gravel, scout under the countless dead scrubs and inside the hose wheel.
I stand.
I crawl.
I sit.
I pick up some random garbage strewn on the lawn, and only stop scrounging around like a hobo when I feel like someone watching me. Because someone is watching me.
I can feel it.
Raising my head, I do a quick scan of the perimeter, glancing across the street and into both side yards from my vantage point on my hands and knees.
I raise myself up on my haunches, resting my palms flat on my knees, and continue my perusal of the landscape. The super-fine baby hairs on the back of my neck tingle, causing me to shiver.
Narrowing my eyes, I give one more cautionary stare into the hedgerow before returning to my hands and knees to continue my search.
“You really shouldn’t let your guard down so soon,” Caleb’s deep voice says from somewhere above me, and I hear a wooden, hollow shuffle. “Now would be the perfect time for you to get assaulted.”
He’s standing on the porch of the Omega house, leaning against the heavy white balustrade, hands stuffed in the pockets of black Adidas track pants, shoulders slouched. The hood of his light-gray sweatshirt is up, but I can see that he’s not wearing his baseball cap.
Black.
His hair is jet black.
“I’m not going to get assaulted, unless it’s by you. Besides, it’s broad daylight.” Self-consciously, still kneeling, I look up at him cautiously from the ground.
“See, that’s the kind of rationale that gets girls in trouble.” He draws the sentence out slowly, his dark eyes boring into mine.
I emit a scoff. “Do you make it a habit to creep up on people from the shadows?”
He wordlessly continues surveying me from the porch and crosses his arms.
It’s driving me crazy. Pushing myself up off the ground, I get to my feet, swipe the loose gravel off the knees of my navy leggings, and pull down the hemline of my running top so it covers my rear end.
“Why do you hardly talk?” I exclaim somewhat rudely to break the unbearable silence, propping my fisted hands on my narrow hips.
Caleb considers this and lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know.” Pause. “Why does everything embarrass you?”
My mouth falls open. “I-I…” I stutter, but nothing more comes out. I take a deep breath and gather my thoughts, and just as I’m about to squeak out an unapologetic quip in reply, another figure emerges from under the overhang of the large covered veranda.
I close my jaw.
Just slightly shorter than Caleb but just as large, he’s wearing plaid pajama bottoms and stretching, his green tee shirt riding up and revealing a taunt, tan six-pack. He yawns, staring down at me with keen interest as I loiter in their side yard.
He’s glancing back and forth between Caleb and me, and I can tell he’s trying to assess the situation but coming up short. “Well, well, well—who are you?”
I give pause. “Who are you?”
The blonde guy laughs. “I’m Blaze. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing down in the yard? You should be up here, getting to know me better.”
How charming.
“Oh, brother,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes and crossing my arms. “Does that line usually work for you?”
“I don’t know, does it?” Blaze laughs again, his white teeth gleaming in the morning sun against a tan face. Jeez Louise, he’s really freaking cute. So much so that his flirting is actually overwhelming me.
Wow, do I suck at this.
But he’s friendlier, and more welcoming, and safer than gloomy Caleb, so I relax a little.
“Maybe you’re just having an off day,” I hypothesize, giving them both a shy grin before I can stop myself. “I’m sure you’ll have much better luck catching the next girl who wanders through the yard.”
“I sure hope so.” Blaze rubs his chin, brainstorming, then snaps his fingers. “Maybe if I cast an actual net I would catch one?”
I titter. “Excellent idea.”
Blaze folds his arms, his heavily tattooed biceps bulging. I catch him dart a sidelong glance at Caleb before giving him a hard nudge from behind with his elbow. Caleb loses his footing and staggers forward, shooting Blaze a dirty look over his shoulder and loudly mumbling, “Would you knock that shit off?”
“Only if you stop being such a cock-guzzler and go talk to her.”
“Why are you pushing this?” Caleb hisses.
“Because you’re being a little bitch-ass.”
“Fuck you.”
“No, fuck you.”
What. Is. Happening.
Amused, I watch them feverishly taunting each other in hushed whispers. Their vulgar bickering actually makes me choke back an entertained laugh.
Curiously, I brazenly advance a few feet and cock my head to the side. “Does everyone around here have a terrible nickname, or is it just the two of you?”