Dead Pretty - Samantha Towle Page 0,22

go either.

Remove your hand, Audrey, my brain issues the command.

My body just isn’t complying.

I’m too focused on the feel of his hand in mine.

He moves his finger over the soft skin on the inside of my wrist.

My body’s reaction is strong; my breath hitches, and there’s a tug in my belly.

So much for womaning up and getting past my attraction to him.

He slides his cell into his pocket, muting the light, and his free hand finds my hip. Fingers curling around it.

My hands land on his biceps. “Jack.” His name comes out in a breathy whisper.

My heart is pounding. It’s so loud that I’m sure he can hear it.

He’s going to kiss me.

And I’m going to let him.

I really shouldn’t. But I can’t seem to remember the reasons why I should stop what’s about to happen.

A door bangs from somewhere in the hallway, and I jerk out of Jack’s hold.

It’s the wake-up call I needed.

What the hell am I doing? I make rules for myself, and the minute a hot guy comes along, I throw them all out the window.

I march over to the wall and flick the switch on, lighting up the whole room.

Jack blinks over at me. He has a look on his face that I can’t fully decipher. But it looks like surprise.

I’m assuming it’s because I broke whatever moment was about to happen between us.

“Audrey …” His voice is dark and smoky, and I know he’s going to say something that I don’t want to hear.

“Thanks for coming over to help me,” I say in a clear, steady voice.

He stares at me for a beat.

Just let it go, I silently plead.

He seems to come to some decision in his mind. He nods and says, “No problem.” He folds up the stepladder.

“I’ll replace your bulb tomorrow,” I say, needing to fill the tension-fueled air.

“Audrey, it’s not a problem.”

“No, I’ll replace it.” I’m firm with my words. I hate owing people anything.

He nods again, accepting.

Then, he moves toward me, passing by the bedroom hallway, and I know the exact moment that he spots the dead rat because he stops still and stares over at it.

Shit!

How the hell did I forget about it?

Um … because your brain was overrun by your stupid sex hormones.

“Audrey”—he turns to look at me—“did you know there’s a dead rat in your apartment?”

Yes. No.

Shit.

Do I tell him that I knew? Or do I play dumb?

Won’t he wonder why I didn’t say something to him before?

Oh, Jack, by the way, there’s a dead rat lying on my hallway floor.

“No.” The lie is out of my mouth before I even truly knew I was going to say it. “Where is it?” I ask, trying to sound as innocent as possible. I walk over to where he is, stopping when the rat comes into my view. It’s even bigger than I first thought. “Oh God,” I say, feigning surprise.

“I take it, it wasn’t a pet?” he jokes before he walks over to the rat, leaning the stepladder against the wall.

But I’m really not in the mood for joking right now. I just wish he would leave, so I could get rid of the dead animal and put this whole shitty night behind me.

“No,” I answer, following behind him.

“It’s a big fucker,” he comments, crouching down beside it. “Looks like it broke its neck.”

“Maybe it fell,” I offer up.

Jack’s eyes lift to the solid plasterboard ceiling above our heads.

“Or not,” I add quietly.

“Weird that it broke its neck,” he muses.

He’s right. It is weird. Rats’ necks just don’t break of their own accord.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Someone killed it. They wrung that poor rat’s neck and left it here for me to find.

No. Stop it. Calm down.

There is a rational explanation as to how that rat ended up in my apartment with a broken neck.

There has to be.

But truthfully, I’m not feeling confident in that theory.

What I am is scared and stressed and confused.

“And you didn’t put a rat trap down or anything?” Jack asks, unaware of my internal anguish.

“No!” I snap, my anger and fear flying out of me and heading straight toward Jack. “I fucking told you that I didn’t know the damn rat was even here!”

Jack pauses, his sharp eyes trained straight on me.

Shit.

I can feel my cheeks heat with guilt and shame. I move my eyes away from his, which is damn easy to do this time. “Look … I’m sorry I snapped. I’m just …” I thrust a hand through my hair. All I ever