Cursed

were back there. Trust me.”

Not likely, but I smiled as I headed to my spot by the window. Curling up on the overstuffed chair that had seen better days, I pulled out the worn copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray. I hoped to get a chapter or two done for my essay before I’d have to leave to pick up Olivia.

I thumbed the book open, preparing myself for the bizarreness that was Oscar Wilde. Only ten or fifteen minutes had passed before a shadow blocked the sunlight streaming through the window behind me. I lifted my head and my heart stuttered.

I was hallucinating again, because Hot Dude was standing in front of me.

The sun cast a halo around him, making him appear surreal. His arresting mouth formed a crooked grin and one lock of brown hair, tinted red by the light, fell over his forehead. I blinked, but he didn’t vanish.

“Hi,” he said in a deep, soft voice that sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.

I looked around, checking to see if anyone else had noticed him, but there was no one near us. My gaze returned to him. Up close, he was actually sort of breathtaking, with his tousled hair and olive skin.

His sooty eyelashes had to be the envy of every girl he crossed paths with.

He ran a hand through his hair and rocked back on his heels. The awkward silence stretched out, and I suddenly became painfully aware of how different I was from two years ago. I’d always had something witty and flirty to say. Now I just stared up at him like an idiot. A fierce blush stole over my cheeks, spreading down my neck.

“Uh… I’ve seen you around here a couple of times,” he tried again, staring at the book I held. “‘ I had come face to face with some one whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself.’” I stared. “What?”

His lopsided grin spread into a full one, and it felt like someone had socked me in the chest. “It’s a quote from Oscar Wilde’s Dorian Gray. It’s one of my favorite books.”

Hot and smart. And apparently he was a real-life boy. I was still staring. Snapping out of it, I shut my book and shoved my hands under my crossed arms, hoping to hide the gloves—as pointless as that was.

“I’ve never seen you here before. I would’ve noticed you.”

His gaze landed on my face, eyes dark and warm. “You would? That’s flattering.”

I kind of wanted to hide under the table—or at the very least, hide my flaming cheeks. Embarrassment and confusion triggered my flight response. I shoved my book in my bag and moved to stand.

“I was just teasing.” He held up his hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” He nodded at the chair across from me. “Do you mind?”

I gripped the strap on my messenger bag as I stared up at him, caught between wanting to bolt and to stay here with him. Boys, except for Adam, rarely spoke to me. Well, unless it was to hurl an insult in my face. “I… I have to leave soon.”

He smiled fully then, momentarily stunning me into further stupor. He slid into the chair and leaned on the little table separating us. “You come here often, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” I dropped my hands to my lap, hoping he hadn’t noticed the gloves. “I… I saw you at school today.”

His dark brows rose as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “You did?”

“Yes. You were standing next to our trophy case.” Accusation unintentionally colored my words; my social skills were sorely lacking. I tried to make up for it. “Are you transferring to the school?”

“I was checking it out.”

My lips pursed. That hadn’t been an answer. “You’re new to this town.”

“Must be a small town for you to notice me.” He tipped his head to the side, his gaze so intense that I knew he was studying me. “I’m from a small town, too. By the way, I never introduced myself. Hayden Cromwell.”

“Hayden Cromwell?” His name rolled off my tongue smoothly. I realized he was waiting for me to tell him my name, and I started to, but my cell took that moment to bounce around the table as the alarm went off in vibrate mode. Jumping to my feet, I snatched the phone. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

He stood fluidly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Walk you out?”

The girl inside me screamed and did a happy dance, but I quickly smacked her upside the head. I started backing off. “No. Uh, no thank you. There’s no reason. My car is just right outside.”

Disappointment flashed across his face, but he covered it with a quick smile. Shoving my hands under my arms, I turned away before he could say anything else. I felt a little sad about not being able to stay and chat longer, but what was the point?

“It was nice talking to you, Ember.”

My legs stopped moving as a shiver tiptoed down my spine. I slowly turned around. “I never told you my na—” He was gone.

I scanned the narrow stacks and aisles for him. The guy was well over six feet tall; there was no way he could just disappear like that. I felt pretty confident I hadn’t made “Hayden Cromwell” up. And I’d never once mentioned my name. That was twice he’d disappeared as if he’d been sucked into a vacuum.

More than a little creeped out by that, I hurried out of the library without saying goodbye to Mrs.

Compton. Thick, gray clouds had rolled in, warning of an early fall thunderstorm. I hurried to the side of my car, daring a look over my shoulder.

My gaze went right to the window where I’d been. A dark shadow stood there, tall and lean. I took a step back, bumping into the car door as my heart sped up. He stood there, watching me.

Hayden Cromwell.

I shuddered as I whirled around and climbed into the Jeep. Another shiver danced over my skin. I knew without looking that he was still standing there. Lurking—that’s what my mom would’ve said, if she still talked to me. The dude was lurking. All the tiny hairs on my body rose in response.

Hot or not, I was officially skeeved out.

* * *

Even if I could still touch a guy and actually get knocked up, I wouldn’t have kids in a million years – dealing with Olivia had taught me that. My little sis was in one of her moods—a dark, demented mood.

Nothing I’d done from the moment I’d picked her up from school was enough.

Olivia wanted a toy she’d lost five months ago.

Then she wanted McDonald’s.

Then she wanted to go to the zoo, for crying out loud.

And she sure as hell didn’t want to go to the grocery store. All her crying and throwing herself on the porch—in front of the neighbors—was over the damn grocery store. Her sudden animosity toward shopping was very odd. Olivia loved to go and throw crap we couldn’t afford into the cart when I wasn’t looking. It was like a pastime of hers.

She stared up at me, her lip trembling. “I don’t want to go!”

Very gently, I grabbed hold of her arm and lifted her to her feet while our nosy neighbor, Cat-Lady Jones, watched through parted blinds. As soon as I let go, Olivia collapsed on her knees again. I should’ve gone straight from her school to the store, but I’d left the stash of money in my desk drawer in my bedroom.

“Olivia!” I hissed. “Get up. You’re embarrassing me.”

Fat tears rolled down her round cheeks. “We don’t have to go!”

I popped my hands on my hips. “Then how are we going to eat, Olivia? Who’s going to buy the groceries? Mom?”

She stared up at me, her brows lowered and lip jutting out. “I don’t want to go.”

“Oh, come on!” I reached for her again, but she took one look at my gloved hand and stuck her tongue out. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. “Seriously, I’m going to leave you outside if you don’t knock it off.”

Olivia latched onto my leg at that point, howling.

“Fine,” I muttered, limping forward as my evil sister held on. I dug out the keys and managed to get the door open. It was like pulling a forty-pound sack of potatoes. “Olivia, come on. I’d really like to have Adam come over tonight. That’s not going to happen if you keep acting like this.”

She continued to sob like I’d pulled off all the heads to her Barbie dolls—which I had done once, when she’d ripped apart my sketchpad because Squeaky needed new bedding.