Page 15 of The Wreckage of Us
She shot him a look that could kill, and Big Paw smiled a little. It took a lot to make that man smile, and Grams controlled them. “Sorry, my lovebug.”
“You’ll be even sorrier on the couch tonight,” she said in return.
I couldn’t help but snicker at my grandparents’ dramatic conversation. Real love was funny, and I loved that my grandparents didn’t take their insults too seriously.
After stuffing my face at my grandparents’, I headed to my place with enough leftovers to get me through the next few days.
Thank God for that.
No sloppy joes this week.
As I reached my place on the ranch grounds, a huge knot sat in my gut. The shed Hazel was apparently crashing in was a dump. Unsafe too. Leave it to her to do something so idiotic.
Stop being an asshole. You don’t even know the girl.
I couldn’t shake off the fact that she was connected to Charlie, even though I knew Big Paw was right. So I went ahead and swallowed my pride, pulled up to the shed, and knocked on the door.
I heard someone shuffling around for a minute before it went silent. I cocked an eyebrow. “Hello?” I called out. More quiet shuffling. I knocked on the door. “Open up, Stone. I know you’re in there.”
More silence. Less movement.
A weighted sigh rolled through me as I flung open the door and saw Hazel sitting up against the far corner of the shed with those wide green eyes of hers. She looked as if I were coming to attack her, which was all the more reason that she shouldn’t have been staying in the damn shed. She was lucky it was me walking in on her as opposed to some town drunk crossing her path.
“Wh-what are you do-doing here?” Hazel asked, her voice shaky.
“What amIdoing here?” I shone my phone light in her direction. “No. What in the goddamn hell areyoudoing in here?”
She got to her feet and blinked her eyes a few times. I hadn’t a clue what she’d been up to, but her hair was dripping wet, as if she’d just taken a shower. A few of her clothing pieces hung on the shelves, including her cotton panties, which had unicorns printed on them. She hurried over and snatched the panties from the shelf and shoved them behind her back.
“You’re living in here?”
“No!” she quickly replied.
I cocked a brow. “You’re living in here,” I repeated, this time as a statement.
She sighed. “Only temporarily.”
“You can’t live in this shed.”
“Why not?” she asked. “It’s not like anyone was using it.”
I groaned. “That’s not the point. The point is you can’t live in a damn shed like an animal. Half the roof is missing, Hazel!”
“I like to look at the stars.”
“It’s drafty at night.”
“I like the breeze.”
“Are you always this stubborn?”
“Are you always this bossy?” she countered, and holy shit, I couldn’t imagine living with someone as annoying as that girl right there.
“I’m only bossy to people who act like children.”
“I’m not acting like a child. I’m acting like a person who needed a place to stay for a little while.”
“Yeah, well, you can’t live here,” I said matter-of-factly. “This isn’t a home. It’s a broken-down shed. On private property, may I remind you. You can’t be a squatter here.”