“What? No, whatever,” I say with a little shrug.
My voice is a little too sing-songy for my liking. He will be able to see right through my bullshit. Rye stops and brushes his fingers across his lips. The lips I want my lips to brush. Stop it, Sailor. The alarm on his face sends my heart skittering again.
“Did you think this was a—” Rye starts.
“What? A date? No,” I reply, forcing out a laugh. “I would never date you.”
What the hell did I say that for?
“Oh,” he says.
“I mean…”
“No, I get it. I’m sure you have plenty of options,” he says, his eyes hardening like they did at school.
I would be feeling guilty but his words slap me in the face. He might as well have called me a whore, which of course sparks my smartass fuse.
“I do. I am shuffling guys as we speak.”
“You just moved here,” he gently reminds me.
“Ever heard of the internet? It so happens that my dazzle is global. I’m wanted all over.”
I can see him getting angrier but instead of saying anything he growls and turns away from me, muttering a slew of swears under his breath. If he would just turn around and look at me.
Mel and Sunday return, followed by the rest of the gorgeous misfits. Heaven on Earth in one group of hot as hell individuals, and I am currently at the center of their world. They all return, except Aziza. I will definitely have to follow up that lead. If there is something between her and Rye, I don’t want to be stepping on anyone’s toes. Sunday munches on handful after handful of popcorn, and as usual, Mel takes the lead on talking.
“So, we know it isn’t official yet, your acceptance in all of this, but we are happy to report that we may have a lead on the dagger.”
I can’t look at Rye. It hurts too much. I mean, he basically shut me down a minute ago.
“That’s great. I’ll get the info later, gonna go check out the handmade jewelry at that booth,” I say, pointing at a table decked out with hundreds of different pieces, some gaudy, some eclectic, hoping it’s enough to break away from them, even though we just met up.
I stalk off toward the table. As I approach the table, I catch a glimpse of Rye coming toward me in a mirror the seller has placed among a pile of necklaces and bangles. Trembling, I turn my attention to the woman selling the jewelry.
“Hello,” I say.
She grins, showing a row of stained teeth.
“Hello, dear.”
“Well well, Stella. What have you got overpriced for us today?”
Ya-Ya appears beside me, looking down at the rings with clear disgust.
“I remember you. What’s your name? Yo-Yo? Oh, no, Ya-Ya. Yes, you’re the girl with the big mouth who likes to ruin my chance at making a sale. Listen, honey, that quartz bangle you bought was authentic. I don’t care who you had look at it.”
“Don’t trust her, Sailor. She will rip you off in a heartbeat.”
I am dragged away by Ya-Ya before I can even apologize to the poor woman, and I find myself in front of a booth of lye soaps, each carved into intricate designs. A banner behind a man offering samples reads “Whisper Police Department—Support Blue.”
“Hey there. Care for a sample, dear?”
“Oh, no thank you,” I start.
“Hey, Chief,” Jinx says, and a spark of recognition crosses the man’s eyes.
“Be careful who you run around with, honey. You might be new in town, but I wouldn’t suggest falling into the wrong crowd,” the chief says to me.
“How did you know I’m new here?” I stammer.
“I’m chief of police, Richard Pollard, dear, and I know all my citizens in Whisper. Just like I know you and your dad just arrived. How are you two settling in by the way?”
“Just fine, thank you, sir.”
“Don’t mock me, honey. You take your sirs to someone who gives a damn. Now, if you don’t mind, I am trying to raise money for the station. You hooligans aren’t helping business at all. Stay out of trouble. Mind you, little lady, you run around with Jinx and company, you will get to know me and mine very well.”
“Come on, we have several booths to look at, Sailor,” Sunday mumbles, pushing me along.
Jinx leans in and whispers in my ear, “Chief Pollard is a real ass.”
“Yeah, I kinda gathered. What’s his deal?”
“He hates teens. Actually, I think he hates all kids in general. He doesn’t seem to have a specific age range he targets his hate on,” Grace adds.
The next booth has several hand-carved boxes and incense holders. All are beautiful with geometric shapes and designs. I stop to study them, and when I look up again all that is left of the group is Rye, who is staring at me hard, his expression unreadable.
“What?”
“I just wish we could have a do-over. Of earlier. Hell, I wish I could have a do-over of when we met actually.”
“Why, so you could be a little less of a jerk?”
He laughs a real genuine laugh, which surprises me. I was starting to wonder if he only had two moods: serious and angry.
“No, I’d still be a jerk, but I’d have worn a better shirt.”
“As long as you keep the body...damn.”
My eyes grow huge as the realization of my words strike me. Oh my god. I really said that out loud. He laughs again, softer now. I relax and we start walking toward the shrieks and shrill screams of carnival riders at the heart of this mess.
“So, you like my body?”
I almost stumble.
“I, well, I mean, God, look at you!”
“You know you look pretty damn amazing too.”
Okay, I’m not going to think too hard into that. He’s clearly just trying to be nice. Returning the compliment and all that.
“But you wouldn’t date me?” he adds.
My heart pinches in my chest and I want to run and hide.
“I didn’t mean that. I mean, I would have to know
