Then there was Killian’s parting shot.
Two hours.
Actually, he’d said at least two hours.
What could a guy do with two hours? Stuff like that only happened in romance novels. In my experience, a girl was lucky to get thirty minutes.
Still, part of me wanted to know what Killian was imagining that would take so long.
Stop thinking about that! He probably said it because he read your books. All your heroes do it like they’re getting a Cialis IV while they’re fucking.
I frowned at the possibility, displeased that I’d forgotten that critical detail. Men lied about their prowess all the time in order to get laid. The prime exhibit—my dad. Ugh. Now I needed to throw up.
–Lucy: Aren’t you ahead of schedule? You could’ve taken a little time to explore the attraction some more. Especially if he was yummy.
–Skye: Exactly. I love my husband, but I need to hear those first attraction spark stories. Keeps me revved up for books.
–Me: Work comes before play.
That had always been my motto. It’d made me good at my career, and I wasn’t going to change that for a fling.
–Lucy: Yeah, but YOU could come before work!
–Skye: Beat me to it.
I loved my friends. But I needed to explain.
–Me: Sleeping with him would be a terrible idea. The worst. He’s a neighbor, but he isn’t the type to stick around.
That was the least of my objections, but it sounded pretty good.
–Lucy: How come?
Because he’s a rock star? But I hesitated to share that detail. I hadn’t seen any crazy tabloid people out here yet, and I was certain that had something to do with people of Kingstree being discreet about Killian’s whereabouts. I didn’t think Lucy or Skye would shout it to the world, but it seemed prudent to keep the fact under wraps, especially since Skye had a gossipy daughter.
–Me: He’s only here to take care of his grandmother’s estate or something. I’m sure he’ll leave as soon as it’s done because he has a career elsewhere.
–Skye: That sucks.
–Lucy: Don’t let that stop you. If you decide that he’s The One after getting to know him better, you could go with him. It’s not like you absolutely have to be in that town to write.
–Me: No, thank you. Kingstree is perfect for an introvert like me. I’m not giving up my little hermit haven for any man.
Especially not a rock star who was used to the spotlight and being surrounded by pretty young things. I could make myself presentable when I was attending a conference or book signing, but I generally didn’t bother to do much. A shower and brushing my hair were about the extent of my daily self-beautification routine. I didn’t want to change that for what was essentially a fling, and I also didn’t want to be compared to younger, prettier women who probably worked out all the time to maintain their firm and toned size-two bodies.
My idea of exercise was typing, occasional stretching and going to the kitchen to grab more water or beer. I sometimes ran, but only when I was blocked. The torture worked wonders, because if I forced a choice between running or writing, my mind always chose the latter.
–Me: Anyway, I gotta get back to the manuscript. I’m sending it off to my editor today, even if it kills me.
And Killian wasn’t getting in the way.
–Lucy: Okay then. Ciao.
–Skye: I need to start writing too. Talk to you later, girls.
After placing the phone back on the table, I took the last sip of the beer, then reached over for some crackers. But all the bags were empty. Sighing, I forced myself off the couch and started toward the kitchen.
Something moved in my peripheral vision. I turned to look and—
A snake!
I screamed and scrambled back, almost falling on my butt as my heart started pounding a billion beats per second. Cold sweat beaded on my back, and the temperature in the house seemed to plunge.
The snake lifted its head in my direction. It flicked its forked tongue. Its beady eyes shot messages in evil telepathy: I’m going to eat you, bitch!
It reared back a bit, getting ready to launch itself at me and attack. I could envision its jaw unhinging and swallowing me whole. I heard they could eat things ten times bigger than them, no problem.
My mind empty of everything except for an instinctive and blind drive for self-preservation, I ran out into the yard. Without the snake in view, my heart slowed to a mere two million beats per second. I placed my sweaty palms on my knees and thought about my options. Call 911. Or should I go to the police station?
Then I realized I was outside without anything—no keys or phone! Freakin’ great! I put both hands over my mouth and a few moments later almost blacked out, because blocking one’s airflow isn’t a good idea while hyperventilating. I started wringing them instead, which worked better. There was no way I was going back in there when a giant snake was waiting to bite my head off. That was what snakes did—I’d seen it in a B-movie once with Lucy and Skye while on a writing retreat. And the one inside had definitely made its deadly intent clear.
Since the only savior I could think of was Killian, I ran over to his house. He’d been borrowing my shower for days now. Surely I could get one phone call.
I knocked on his door and started to bite my nails as the seconds ticked by. What if he wasn’t home? A car was parked in the driveway, but he was a rock star. He might have other cars—or a Harley. What would I do if he wasn’t home?
What if the snake followed me? It could smell me, right—
I whirled around, expecting to see serpentine jaws of doom expanding to engulf me. But apparently the snake was contenting itself with taking over my house.
I turned back to the door. Now I almost wished I’d let Killian play his obnoxious drums. Then I would’ve known he was home for sure without this nauseating anxiety twisting around in my gut. I felt like throwing up.
He could be ignoring me because of the kiss. Maybe he’d been insulted that I jumped back and told him I needed to work. Most women probably melted and magically incinerated their clothes when he kissed them.
Argh. I banged on the door with all my might, as though if I just hit it hard enough, he’d appear.
“Killian!” I yelled. “Killian! Come on!”
“Okay, okay!” came a grumbly voice from the other side.
My knees shook, almost buckling with relief. I propped my hand against the wall for support.
He stuck his head out, his eyes flinty. “Yeah?” Then he took a closer look at me and straightened, concern softening his gaze. “Whoa, Emily, are you okay? You need to sit down?” He put a hand on my forehead. “You feel clammy.”
“Oh my G-G-God, I…” My teeth were chattering. Thank heavens I wasn’t alone in my fight against the snake that had taken over my home. “There’s this, this…”
“Okay, you need to sit down.”
“I need to go home.” No, that came out wrong, because I couldn’t go home on my own. “We need go home. Over there. To my house.”
He gave me a look. “Why?”
“There’s a snake inside! And I need your help.”
His eyebrows quirked briefly, then settled into a serious V. He pressed his lips together. “A snake?” he said finally.
I nodded. “A huge one. Vicious.”