Page 13 of Kind of Cursed
She sounds better, so I get to my feet and step back, giving her space.
Her shielding hand moves to her forehead, and she looks up at me from beneath it as though shading her eyes from the sun. And then I see. She’s embarrassed.
I don’t want her to be embarrassed. It surprises me how much I really don’t want that. So I say the first thing I can think of.
“Most people don’t usually faint until they get my bill.”
Chapter Four
MILLIE
I stare at him.Blink. And then his words penetrate. A joke. I want that to be irritating. I really do. Yet it takes away the sting of my embarrassment. Just a little.
But, yeah. I fainted. Again.
At least I’m definitely not pregnant this time.
My fingers tremble when I wipe my forehead, so I ball up my fist and lower it to my knee.
“I-I’m sorry about that,” I say to my shoes. Meeting his dark-eyed gaze straight on isn’t really an option right now. “That… uh… that took me by surprise.”
My parents have been gone for five months, so there’s no way they called a contractor. I’m not sure what’s going on, but there’s got to be some mistake. Still, I miss them so much, I want them back so badly, just hearing their names—hearing that this man is looking for them—gives me a moment of absurd hope.
Maybe it has all been just a big misunderstanding. Maybe the Coast Guard got it wrong. Maybe they’re really fine. They’ve just been marooned on an island… like Tom Hanks inCastaway.
It can’t be true. I know that. But even the temptation of such a possibility is enough to make anyone light-headed.
“Are you okay? Should I call someone?”
I risk a glance up at him. He’s frowning down at me, and that scar through his left brow makes him look a little scary, but only until I notice concern in his dark, watchful eyes. It hits me again that he’s the guy from the soccer game. Alejandro’s brother. But I can’t process that right now. One thing at a time. Answer his questions.
The first one’s easy enough. “I’m… fine.” It’s true. I am fine. My little fainting spell has left me misted in sweat, a slight ringing in my ears, and my limbs feel like jelly, but that’ll pass in a minute.
As for the second? There’s really no one. Who would he call? Kath at the office? Aunt Pru on her Norwegian cruise ship? Harry, Mattie, and Emmett, my next of kin, are all minors.
“No, you don’t need to call anyone.” When his frown deepens, I quickly add, “I’m fine, really.” To prove as much, I push myself—carefully—to my feet.
He steps closer, as though to offer me a hand, but stops before actually touching me. Good. I don’t need to look any more helpless than I already do.
Standing, I brush my hands against my scrubs and offer one to him, pretending that nothing at all weird just happened. I didn’t just faint in a heap in front of him, and I definitely didn’t give him the stink-eye before that—when I recognized him from the soccer game and assumed he’d looked me up.
Who? Me?
Let me just say for the record that I feel like an ass for that one, but, really, who could blame me? Even after it was clear last night that Mattie had developed and insta-crush on his little brother… even after the chit-chat between his mom and Emmett, the guy kept eyeing me. Stealing glances behind those curling lashes. Checking me out.
At least, that’s what I thought.
So when I stepped outside and saw him, I was more than a little freaked out and, frankly, annoyed that he’d looked me up. If I go out of my way to avoid making eye contact with you, you’d better not show up on my doorstep the next day, looking like you just stepped out of a Calvin Klein underwear ad.
I mean, yes, of course he’s dressed, but that T-shirt he’s wearing doesn’t look like it’s up for the job of actually keeping him decent, clinging to his muscles the way it is. I guess it’s not the T-shirt’s fault. If I were hanging on that chest, I’d probably lose all my strength too.
So that’s why I was rude to him before I even knew why he was here. Self-preservation.
And then he mentioned my parents, and I fainted. Yeah, nothing at all weird here.
But he shakes my hand anyway, still watching me closely. I willfully ignore the warmth of his hand. The way it surrounds mine.
“I’m Millie Delacroix,” I manage. “Hudson and Eloise were my parents.”
