Page 28 of Strung Along

Shooting to her feet, she takes the cans she’s managed to secure and slams them onto the shelf. I drag my eyes down the curves of her body, gritting my teeth as I’m reminded how outrageously beautiful she is. Brown eyes aren’t usually my thing, but hers aren’t simply brown. They’re warm and soft, a complete contradiction to Anna from what I’ve seen thus far.

Her pin-straight hair is a shade of brown so deep it’s nearly black, depending on the lighting, and it reaches just past her shoulders. Instead of jeans and boots that very obviously don’t fit her properly, she’s wearing black leggings that fit a little too well and dirty, worn sneakers. Her dark jacket is the one she wore last night. It looks a bit too thin for the current weather here right now, but I keep my mouth shut about that.

“No boots for you today?” I sound condescending as fuck, but I ignore the guilt that follows. She doesn’t look at all like she did yesterday, and that tells me everything that I need to know.

Posers aren’t welcome in my life. I’ve encountered enough of them to last a lifetime.

“Is that what your problem with me is about? Mybootslast night?” she hisses.

I shrug and drop to a crouch, gathering the rest of the cans. “If the boot fits.”

“You’re hilarious. And a jackass. What a fantastic mix of traits.”

“Happy to entertain you . . .” I pause, arching a brow. “What was your name again?”

I almost flinch at her expression. Fuck, she might very well chuck one of those cans at my head.

“If you’ve forgotten my name, you never deserved to know it in the first place. The fact you have any fans at all is beyond me. You wear a great mask, though. I’ll give you that,” she grits out.

Diverting her eyes, she keeps her shoulders tight while finishing arranging all the cans. I wait until she’s backed away from the shelf before taking the ones in my arms over and doing the same.

I change the subject before I can say anything that will have her truly beating my ass with a can. “How did you even knock all of these off?”

“Changing the topic, are we?” she counters.

“You’re impossible.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

Blowing out a long, exasperated breath, I finish with the cans and back away from her. “You’re welcome for the help.”

“Considering I never asked for the help, I’m not thanking you.”

She’s a stubborn woman, that’s for sure. Stubborn and somehow able to get on my very last damn nerve with little to no effort.

“Noted. I’ll make sure to stand by and watch you suffer next time you look like you need help,” I reply.

“Brody Steele! That is no way to speak to a woman!”

12

BRODY

My grandmother’svoice has me holding back a groan. The sound of her boots hitting the floor in quick succession would usually be enough to make me cower had Anna not been standing in front of me. I can just picture the smug grin she’d give me if she were to witness that.

Grandma reaches my side far too quickly and swats lightly at the back of my head when I remain silent. A beat later, she stares up at me expectantly. “Well? Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

I dare a look at Anna and find her watching me. Holding her stare, I say, “Grandma, this is Anna. Anna, this is my grandma, Eliza.”

At my knowledge of her name, Anna blinks in surprise before quickly grinning at my grandma. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Steele.”

“Mrs. Steele,” Grandma echoes, slapping my arm and returning Anna’s smile. “You have better manners than Brody.”

“That’s hurtful,” I mutter.

“It wouldn’t be if it weren’t true,” she sings.

Anna’s smirk is just as nerve grating as I knew it would be. “I don’t want to say I agree with you, but you might be onto something.”