Inevitable - Kristen Granata Page 0,7

out the lyrics the closer I get, and I can’t help the tip of my lips when I reach the scene in the kitchen.

Eva’s wrapped in a furry leopard robe and matching slippers, with her back to me. Her black and red hair is in a mess of a knot on top of her head, and she’s singing into a butter knife as she piles her plate with pancakes and fruit.

She spins around to hit the last note of the chorus, eyes squeezed shut, belting it out with everything she’s got.

Totally off-key, might I add.

But fuck if she’s not the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen.

I’m mesmerized by her. So much so that I forget she has no idea I’m standing here, inside her home. She opens her eyes and shrieks, piercing my eardrums—along with the sound barrier—and tosses her plate at me like a frisbee. I put my hands up to block it, and it shatters when it hits the floor, pancakes and blueberries scattering around the tile.

“What the fuck are you doing in here, you freak?”

“Your father let me in. He—”

“My father.” She laughs. “Let a strange man into your home while your daughter is naked in her bed. Father of the fucking Year.”

I cock an eyebrow. “You sleep naked?”

Redness tinges her cheeks. “Get. Out!”

Instead of leaving, which would be the proper thing to do, I step further inside the kitchen. Her eyes go wide as I reach around her for my coffee cup that’s sitting on the counter behind her and take a sip. Then, I turn around and make myself a plate with pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs.

I gesture to the floor with my fork. “You might want to clean that up. Blueberries will stain that expensive white tile. Then again, you probably have people who do that for you. Do you snap your fingers, or just ring a little bell?”

She steps into my space, her furry robe hitting my bicep, gritting her teeth as she glares up at me. “Fuck you. I don’t snap my fingers at anyone.”

I pop a piece of crispy bacon into my mouth. “Surprising.”

“You have your food, asshole. Now leave.”

“Almost done.” I grab the jug of syrup and pour it over everything on my plate, earning me a scoff of disgust from Princess Trust Fund. “Can’t forget the syrup. Knowing your family, it probably came fresh from a maple tree this morning.”

She plants her hand on her hip. “You don’t know shit about my family.”

“I know you’re not using store brand like the rest of us peasants.”

Steam should be shooting out of her ears with how red her face is. I’m pushing all the right buttons, and I’m enjoying it way too much. Eva is a ball of fire when she’s angry, and for some reason, I want to keep fueling the flame.

“Are you done now?”

I nod and carry my plate to the doorway, careful to not squish the blueberries beneath me.

I stop and turn my head to look at her over my shoulder. “By the way, Linkin Park? Good choice, though you were a little pitchy there at the end.”

“Ugh!” she screeches.

And I duck as a muffin hurtles through the air.

Eva

Big Guy is out of breath when he arrives at The Waldorf Astoria hotel.

Twenty minutes after me.

I can’t help the grin that splits my face. Serves him right for the way he scared the shit out of me and then insulted me in my own kitchen earlier.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” He lumbers toward me, his chest and shoulders heaving. “I have to chase you down every time you leave the house?”

I give a noncommittal shrug. “I thought you were right behind me.”

“Bullshit.”

He presses on his abdomen like he has a cramp, and I roll my lips together to keep from laughing.

“You’re out of shape, Big Guy.”

“Look, if something happens to you and I’m not with you, your father’s going to fire me.”

“That’s the point, genius.”

“If it’s not me, it’ll just be someone else. He’ll hire another. Someone older, someone who can’t protect you like I can.”

“Because you’re such a big, tough man?” I roll my eyes. “Nothing’s going to happen to me in broad daylight. You’re just mad because you couldn’t keep up with me. Get over it.”

I’m being a bitch, I know. I’m taking my shit out on him when it should be directed at my father. But something about the way he looks when he’s pissed off makes me want to piss him off even