Stupid Boy

He rubbed his jaw with a big knuckled hand. “A conspiracy, yeah?”

My heart jumped. He couldn’t possibly know. “Oh, no, not at—”

Kane gave me a lazy smile. “Just messing with you.” He inclined his head to his truck. “Ready to load?”

“Oh, yes,” I answered, and turned back to the porch. “Thanks. Let’s…definitely load the water then.” I jogged the steps, and at the top I spun around. “Oh, you might—”

He was right there, as close as two people can be while sharing the same breathing space, and his eyes immediately found mine. His frosty breath trailed out of his mouth as it blended with the chilly air. So close, I could feel the heat of his skin brush mine. Standing one step below me, we almost stared eye-to-eye, and a sly smile pulled at his lips. The air froze in my lungs, so trapped in the moment. I found myself completely and utterly speechless. Unable to move. Chained to the porch.

“Right. Girls’ sorority house. Six a.m. I’ll…stay right here,” he said softly, and there was amusement in his voice. “No problem.” He leaned a little closer. “You can breathe now, Harper.” That came out quiet, meant only for my ears.

I did breathe then, and my warm breath met the cool November morning air and puffed out white before me. “I’ll be right back.” Hastily, I let myself back into the house. More than half the sisters still ran around in their night clothes. Or less. Still getting ready for the Turkey Run.

Inside, I cringed. Murphy and the other sisters stood clustered around the window. Murphy, guilt smeared all over her creamy features, jumped back.

“We were watching,” she admitted shamelessly with a grin. “I fancy an introduction.”

“Me, too,” said Leslie. Followed by several others.

With a resigned sigh, I turned and opened the door. Kane stood as he had before, leaning against the pillar. “Kane?” I said. “These are the sisters of Delta house. Girls, this is Kane McCarthy.”

He glanced past me, at the girls piled up behind me at the door, and gave them a wide, flawless smile. “Ladies.”

Murphy pushed passed me, still in her plaid pajama bottoms and her favorite Union Jack tee shirt, her hair in pigtails, and I said a silent prayer she’d try her best and contain herself.

“My name’s Murphy, love,” she said, introducing herself, and they shook hands. “Harper’s best mate. Are you ready for the run?”

Kane’s eyes found mine, where they smoldered. Turned soft. A smile tipped his mouth up in one corner. “Been looking forward to it all night.”

Murphy’s gaze shot to mine, and pure deviltry made them twinkle in the porch light. “Fancy a good challenge then, do ya?”

Kane didn’t stop staring at me. “Yeah. I do.”

Inside, I shivered a little. His words, his stare, sunk deeper than anyone I’d ever encountered. With an embarrassed smile I left the two of them chatting as a few other girls and I gathered the remaining flats of bottled water and carried them to the porch.

It was going to be a long, long day. I knew at the end of it, Murphy Polk would be filled to her North York gills with questions. I braced myself ahead of time. For now, though, I had to deal with my Dare project. To let the girls see me affected by him would not do. Not at all.

Over the next hour Kane, Murphy and I rode to the checkpoints along the Turkey’s route and set out the extra water that had been donated, and plastic-wrapped platters of the chocolate chip cookies I’d made. Murphy kept Kane busy with questions, asking him about Boston, making fun of his accent. Which, in turn, made Kane laugh and do nothing except make fun of hers. And at each checkpoint sat an assigned Delta, to keep the wolves, i.e. fraternities and other obnoxious guys with bottomless stomachs and no manners, out of the cookies. Kane registered for the run and to my surprise he in fact did pay the hundred he’d threatened to pay in order to run beside me.

My thoughts bumped off one another as I wondered how many frat boys had lost their parents’ money to him. The idea made me mad. Not that the fraternity boys had lost their money. That was their own fault. It angered me that Kane chose to make a living that way. It frightened me a little. It could be dangerous. Couldn’t it?

By the time the race was about to begin, Brax and Olivia had joined us at the starting line, between our house and the Kappas’. Katie Mulligan pinned our numbers to our chest and back. Brax was in full-Brax mode.

“Gracie!” he danced around her. “You know I’m gonna win, right?” Brax teased. He wore the same thing as Kane, except a Silverbacks skully was pulled snug over his head. His unique features seemed harsher in the cool early morning, but by the softened expression in Olivia’s eyes, she didn’t think so.

“Brax Jenkins, this isn’t a race,” she chided, and play-punched his arm. “It’s for charity.”

“I’m still gonna win!” he laughed. Then inclined his head. “I’m at least gonna beat my lunkhead big brother over there.” Like his features, his Boston accent seemed harsher, louder than Kane’s.

“Yeah, you might.” Kane grinned back at him. Then, his gaze found mine. “Guess we’ll just have to see.”

“How’d you con him into runnin’ anyway, half-pint?” Brax asked me. “I didn’t even know you two had met.” He jogged closer, ducked his dark head, and locked those crazy pale-blue eyes onto mine. “You put a fuckin’ spell on him or somethin’?”