Untouchable (Haven Falls 1)

“Deal,” I tell him, not wanting to miss the opportunity to get the pick up fixed and spend time with the guy who seems to have me somewhat intrigued. I just hope I’m not shooting myself in the foot.

We get back to my place and I cringe as he gets out of his car. Dad and I haven’t had people over for so long that we’ve let our home go. There are dishes piled up in the sink and a mountain of dirty laundry, though, for the most part, it’s respectable… well, respectable enough. You know, if he doesn’t venture down the hallway and get a look at the way I left my room this morning.

I slide my key into the lock on the front door and give it a good wiggle before a firm turn, knowing it tends to get jammed. Before I know it, I’m pushing into my home with the Haven Falls badass, Noah Cage, hot on my heels.

I know, right? I can hardly believe it myself. Never in a million years did I think Noah Cage would be inside my living room. This is ridiculous. Is this what it’s like to fangirl? Or maybe this is spazzing out over a sexy boy showing a little interest. Shit, it’s probably just nerves of the unknown. I don’t know, I haven’t felt anything in so long.

I walk through the living room and into the kitchen, hoping I can clear a little space before he walks in behind me, only as I get into the kitchen and turn around, I find him shrugging out of his shirt before he tosses it right in my face. “Um,” I squeak. “What the hell are you doing?” I question. “I don’t know about you, but I was raised not to get naked in other people’s homes when I first walk in.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” he shoots back at me with a sparkle lighting up his mischievous eyes as I try desperately to keep my eyes locked on his, rather than the masterpiece which is his wide chest and sculptured abs covered in ink. “You owe me some favors.”

My eyes widen in shock and I swallow back.

He’s not serious, is he?

What have I done? I should have known better. A guy like Noah doesn’t just give a girl a ride home without expecting something in return. No, he doesn’t get a badass reputation and girls fawning all over him for being a gentleman.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Heat surfaces behind his eyes as steps towards me. Within the blink of an eye, I toss his shirt straight back at him. “Ahhh…whatever it is that you’re expecting to go down here, you can forget it. You’re going to have to do something a shitload better than giving me a ride home to get in my pants.”

Booming laughter tears from within him. “Holy shit, your face,” he laughs. “That was good.”

“What?” I grunt, completely confused.

“I told you back at school that I’d be the perfect gentleman. I don’t know about the guys you hang out with, but I stick to my word,” he tells me. Relief washes through me, but there’s still a slight pang of hurt. I mean, does he not want to sleep with me? Does he think I’m used goods like all the skanks at school keep suggesting? “Though,” he says with a wink, “maybe next time I’ll offer you something a little more than just a ride home.”

Ahhhh, that makes more sense.

I cross my arms over my chest. “You really think I’d be interested in ‘a little more than just a ride home’ with you?”

“Spitfire,” he grins, looking at me as though the thought of taking me for a ride is the only thing keeping him breathing. He gets up and walks around to my side of the counter before stepping in behind me. He doesn’t touch me but is close enough that I feel the heat of his breath on my neck. “You’re more than interested,” he whispers before bringing up his shirt and pressing it into my stomach. Forcing me to take it from his hands.

“You’re delusional,” I murmur, trying to give the shirt back once again. “Stop giving me your damn shirt and put it on before the neighbors assume I opened a brothel.”

He laughs, stepping away from me, leaving the shirt in my hands. “Can’t,” he tells me, “some crazy psycho covered me in spaghetti.”

Oh, yeah.

A wicked grin spread across my face. “If you’re not careful, I’ll cover you in more than that.”

He stops walking away and grins back at me with a raised eyebrow. “Is that a promise?”

Huh? I think over what I just said and realize, way too late just how dirty it sounds. Shit. Now it looks like I’m coming on to him.

He lets me off the hook as he heads for the internal garage door. “Oil in here?” he questions, walking straight in, not bothering to wait for my confirmation while still confusing the ever loving shit out of me. I mean, why the hell is he doing this? There has to be some kind of twisted end game here that I can’t see.