Page 14 of Wilde About You

I put up my hands. "Just curious. Don't get all bent about it. The last time we met, you were wearing a camera and my sweatshirt. Now it's just the sweatshirt."

Her shoulders relaxed. "Yeah, well the camera is in a secure location." She eyed me suspiciously again. "They didn't set this up, did they?" She turned and placed her feet on the ground as if planning to run again. "Are you working for them?"

I laughed. "Working for who? Aside from my hoodie, what the fuck do you have yourself wrapped up in, wood sprite? Like the white hair, by the way. Goes with the rest of you, of which there isn't a whole hell of a lot."

"If you're done insulting me, you can go inside and pretend I'm not here."

"Where was the insult? You're almost too incredible to be real. You look like you flapped your sparkly little wings and flew out from some magical forest."

"As if I haven't heard that pickup line a million times before." she huffed.

"Have you?" At this point all I could see was her doll-like profile and those damn legs, long considering her size.

"Well, not that one exactly. Now, if you'd let me sleep, I'd really appreciate it."

"Yep. That's fine. By the way, never had any need for a pickup line." I slid open the glass door and went inside.

I walked into the kitchen and put the popcorn into the microwave. The distinct scent of buttery popcorn filled the air.

Seconds later, there was a knock on the glass door, then it slid open. "Need to pee."

"Uh, just down the hallway and first door on the …" She was already at the bathroom before I could finish my directions. "Ok, just make yourself at home," I muttered. I filled a bowl with popcorn and sat on the couch.

I heard her small footsteps hurrying down the hallway. I pretended to be watching the television, but my radar was behind me, thinking about those legs and those eyes and that attitude.

She leaned over the back of the couch and reached into the bowl of popcorn. "I washed them," she said.

"Good to know." Several pieces of popcorn fell on my shoulder. I plucked them off and ate them. "Why don't you take a seat, so you can eat the popcorn without looming over me like a messy little bird?"

She strolled around the end of the couch, plopped down a cushion away and tried to stack her slim feet on the coffee table. Her legs didn't reach, so she pulled them up and put them on the couch. She grabbed one of the loose pillows and hugged it. She was still wearing the sweatshirt. She'd even pulled the hood up.

I held the bowl in front of her, and she dug out another fistful. "I hate the fake butter on this stuff," she said as she shoved it into her mouth.

"I can find you something else to eat. You look hungry."

She shrugged. "Nah, I don't like to eat late." She grabbed another handful and peered at me from under the edge of the hood. "Popcorn doesn't really count because it's mostly air."

"Right. Good point. Beer? Lots of air there, too."

"Nope. Not staying long enough to down a beer." She turned slightly so that she was resting in the corner of the couch. She was still holding onto the pillow. Her blue eyes were like sapphires, and the twinkle of mischief in them only made her that much hotter. "So, your buddy owns this place, eh? How do you know each other?"

"We're on the same snowboarding team. Been competing together since we were teens."

She nodded. "Yep, I took you for one of those pretty jock types."

"Not sure I'm loving being called pretty. That's twice now."

"Would you say I'm pretty?"

I paused. "Why do I feel like this is a trick question?"

She shrugged. "Nope, just a straightforward question." She tugged the hood down and settled deeper into the cushions. "But since you hesitated, I'll assume⁠—"

"Yes, of course, you're pretty. You're fucking gorgeous. There. Happy?"

"Gorgeous? Are wood sprites considered gorgeous? And I don't mind being called pretty, so I'm not sure why you should have a problem with it either."

I stared at her. Her long lashes fluttered drowsily. "Are you his girlfriend?" I asked, suddenly really wanting to know.