Legacy of Secrets 01-Cursed Secrets by Lisa Logue Page B

mind waiting in the kitchen I’m going to change clothes and I’ll be right down for that sandwich,” she nodded.
    I took the stairs two at a time to my room and dressed. I had to hunt quickly. I raced to the outskirts of town and back within mere seconds. After splashing some water on my face and cologne on my shirt I walked casually into the kitchen. I laughed when I saw her sitting on the counter reading a book and eating a sandwich.
    “I see you helped yourself,” I said and she jumped.
    “Oh jeez you scared the crap out of me! I’m going to have to get you a bell or something,” she held her hand to her chest.
    “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you,” I smiled and rested against the doorframe.
    “It’s okay. I hope you don’t mind. I just felt sort of weird about you catering to me. No offense. I like to do things on my own. Do you want one?”
    “No, I’m fine, thank you. I’m not really that hungry.”
    “Are you sure? All you’ve had is beer since I’ve been here. I’m surprised you’re not completely trashed or sick. You must have a high tolerance for alcohol,” she said perplexed.
    “Something like that. If you’d like to take this book home you’re welcome to it,” I changed the subject, “I’ve read it many times.”
    “Oh, no I couldn’t do that. I would feel horrible if something happened to it. It’s a first edition!” she looked so taken aback I chuckled.
    “Here I’ll get my copy. That way if anything happens to it you wouldn’t have to worry,” I retrieved the book quickly.
    “Wow, that’s very kind of you. Thanks,” she took it from me hesitantly. I realized that she was shivering.
    “I’m so sorry, I should have realized you didn’t have warmer clothes. Would you like to borrow something?” I felt like an putz.
    “Sure anything would be fine. I’m not picky as long as it’s warm,” she laughed lightly and shivered again.
    “Come on upstairs and I’ll get you something,” she nodded and I led her into my bedroom, nervously I might add.
    Lia
    I wrapped the plush towel around me tighter and followed him up the stairs. I was apprehensive about being alone with him, but mostly because I didn’t know if I could trust myself. My feelings toward him were strange to say the least.
    He handed me one of his tee shirts, which was rather large and incredibly warm. He also gave me a very thick blanket and we settled in the living room. After pouring us both a glass of wine, he sat on the sofa beside me.
    "Thank you for inviting me over. You really do have a beautiful home. I hope I didn't freak you out earlier?"
    "Not at all. And you're always welcome here. Mi casa es su casa. What shall we toast to?"
    "I don't really know. I've never toasted anything before. What would you toast to?"
    "How about friendship? True friends are hard to come by nowadays," we tapped our glasses together.
    "Can I ask you a somewhat personal question?" I asked, tracing the glass’ rim with my finger.
    "Sure."
    "Why don't you have a girlfriend or something? I'm sure I'm breaking hearts by being here, but I don't get why you're so closed off. You've been nothing but kind and extremely understanding. Most girls would die to have a guy like you," he choked on the wine and I patted him lightly on the back.
    "Well, uh, I suppose the right girl hasn't stumbled into my life yet. I’m not picky, really. I've dated here and there, but there are some traits women can have that I am not a fan of," he grimaced.
    "Like what?" I laughed.
    "Hmm. I suppose I don't like woman who are vain. Confidence is fine, but there’s a limit,” he chuckled, ”I appreciate a woman who is self sufficient but still has reasons to need me. Most importantly, she must be open-minded. That sort of does make me sound picky, doesn't it?" he smirked and refilled our glasses.
    "No. I think it makes sense. I can understand wanting to be choosy, though. I mean you're giving your heart to someone so it’s only fair that they