Love, Lattes and Mutants. Sandra Cox
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me earlier.” When I first decided to change my voice, I should have gone for high and squeaky. It would have been in keeping with Fahrenbacher’s mousy image of me, but it’s too hard on the voice box.
“What happened?” Holly’s eyes widen and she leans forward.
“I collided with Edgar Fahrenbacher. Your brother came to my rescue before Fahrenbacher could turn me into his boot-licking slave,” I say with more asperity than I mean to.
I feel a lean hip press against mine as Tyler lowers himself into the booth. The warm thigh squeezing intimately against mine sends a sharp jolt of electricity through me. It takes every ounce of self-control I possess to keep from leaping over him and running for the door. Instead, I nonchalantly ease over to give him room.
Can he hear the erratic thumpity-thump of my racing heart?
“Fahrenbacher’s full of himself but harmless.” He acknowledges an acquaintance at another table with a lift of his hand.
“I wonder.” I’m good at reading people. I can sense more at an elemental level than most folks bogged down by social mores cluttering their perceptions. Beneath Fahrenbacher’s social facade of arrogance is meanness and cruelty. He bears watching.
Before Tyler can respond, three girls from my lit class come over and flirt shamelessly with him.
“Take your entourage and go away, bro.” Holly waves him off.
He grins and rises. “See you at home. Bye, Piper.”
I nod.
He ambles away, the three girls in his wake.
“Now you’ve done it.” Holly shakes her head and sighs. She throws her voice to be heard above the chatter going on around us.
“Um?” Tyler strides with a loose-legged gait to the counter. I love the way his soft, faded jeans cup his extremely pinchable butt. He and his harem place their order.
I shift and give Holly my attention. “Done what?”
“You’ve become his latest cause.”
My ears tingle. Something’s wrong with my hearing. “Excuse me?”
“Tyler’s a big believer in accountability. Now that he’s come to your rescue, he’ll view you as his responsibility.”
“I am not his responsibility nor do I desire to be.” I jab at the ice in my latte with my straw. Yeah, right. For a moment, I imagine myself as Tyler’s responsibility. A second later, sanity returns. “It’s entirely unnecessary. I’m equipped to take care of myself.” Better than most.
Tyler goes outside. The three girls trail after him. “He seems to have gotten over it.” I watch, through the glass wall, as the girls flirt their empty heads off. I immediately feel ashamed. I have no way of knowing whether their heads are empty or not. Mortification surges through me. I’m jealous.
Holly smiles knowingly. “The bro has that effect.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My belly knots. Holly Carlisle sees entirely too much. I suck down the rest of my latte and stand. “Thanks. It’s been...” My voice trails off as I try to figure exactly what it has been.
“Educational,” she suggests, eyes twinkling.
“You’re a witch,” I accuse.
“And you mean that in the nicest possible way.” Her shoulders shake with suppressed laughter.
The girl is incorrigible. I shake my head and beat a hasty retreat.
“See you tomorrow,” she calls.
I wave a hand over my head and keep walking.
He can’t have seen me with his back to the door, but before I can push through it, he reaches behind and pulls it open. Startled, I dart through. My head down, I try for inconspicuous.
“See you, Piper.”
His awareness of me catches me off guard. I don’t know what to make of it. He’s the prince and I’m the frog—or dolph-girl. I nod and pick up my pace. The girls smile in a friendly fashion. Maybe, I’ve misjudged them, never given them a chance.
Again, I have the uncomfortable feeling that his gaze follows me. As soon as I’m out of sight, I pick up my pace.
“Piper, wait.” Footsteps sound behind me.
Crap.
Why can’t he and Holly leave me alone? I want to shake my hair free, lose the nerdy glasses and clothes, and jump into the ocean, free to be myself. What can he possibly want with me? I’ve gone out of my way to be invisible and he’s surrounded by girls.
“Where are you headed?” He catches up with me easily. I’m five-eight and have long legs. He’s six-two and has longer.
I stop, muttering sea curses under my breath. He and his sister so unnerve me.
I hunch into my shapeless shirt. I’ve had way too much human interaction today. It’s giving me a headache, all sorts of uncomfortable feelings surface. I desire peace and the sea to counter the raw and edgy.
I shift toward him. “What do you want, Tyler?” I muster what patience I have left. It’s time for me to patrol the waters.
He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. His expression amused. “You’re an intriguing little thing. I’ve never had this effect on a girl before.”
Little thing? Maybe to someone six-two.
No one has ever bothered to look beyond my nerdy surface. Now, in a short period of time, both he and his sister are probing.
I know why Holly is. My lack of interest in her brother fascinates her. And I think I know why Tyler is interested, too. It’s my own damn fault. I was careless about my voice and it’s come back to bite me.
A light breeze ruffles his thick tawny hair. High cheekbones emphasize chiseled bone structure. My gaze drifts to a very kissable mouth before I jerk it back to those oceanic blue eyes that give me a drowning sensation.
His expression goes from amused to thoughtful. “I was wondering if you’d like to go on my boat Saturday.”
“You have a boat?” The boy continues to surprise me.
“Yeah. My mom said if she didn’t know better she’d swear she and dad spawned a fish.” His eyes crinkle with laughter, inviting me to share in the joke.
Mine narrow. The comment hits too close to home.
“Why?” I fist my hands on my hips. “Why do you want to take me on your boat? Is this some sort of joke or locker room bet?”
He frowns, as if taken aback. Definitely not used to hearing no from females, especially dowdy ones.
Recovering, he drawls, “I have a theory I’m trying to prove.”
“Which is?” I narrow my eyes and angle away from him.
“That a girl lurks beneath that getup.” He reaches for my glasses.
I slap his fingers hard enough to make him back up and shake his hand.
“Ouch. Why’d you do that?”
“The sun hurts my eyes.”
“It’s behind a cloud.” He points out the obvious.
“You have every other girl in school, isn’t that enough?” I storm, panting.
“Apparently not.”
Chapter 3
I hurry to my truck with more speed than grace. Big, rusty and ten years old, it doesn’t elicit any vehicle lust among the other students. It’s a gas-guzzler, but it serves its purpose for trips down the coast. Hunching over