me that I refuse to adhere to. I’m no one’s bitch and I’m not going to start now.
“Ichabod,” he tells me, the smile returning slightly. “What’s your name?”
“Aftyn,” I reply through grit teeth.
I’ve never once heard of an Ichabod before, but anything that ever had to do with this side of the family tree had always been sheared down whenever I asked.
He holds a hand out toward me and I take it, initiating a quick shake, then let go.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks me, glancing at Lakyn again who now has his hands in the air like he’s explaining something to the banshees.
“Absolutely.”
He lets out a heavy sigh, then cups his hands over his mouth. “Lakyn! You’ve got company!” he shouts across the street.
Lakyn turns his body slightly enough that he’s still partially directing his words to the banshees, but he can see me and this Ichabod guy.
When his eyes settle on me… when I finally see the face of the man that’s haunted this entire trip in the fucking flesh for the first time… I find myself wiping away an angry, lone tear.
All this time, I thought this had been some kind of a sick joke. That someone had found a man that looked like me and taunted me to the point that I would have either changed my phone number or even gotten a new e-mail address, but I called their bluff.
I called everyone’s bluff.
And as Lakyn Meyer drops his hands to his side and stares at me, I wonder if I did the right thing.
Especially when he looks at me with a little bit of shock, a whole lot of curiosity, and then a grin that takes over half his face.
It takes no more than thirty seconds before he’s standing right in front of me. My fists are balled at my sides in anger, in hope, when he shakes his head and lets out a friendly laugh.
“What do we have here?”
Thirty
A Stripper Would Have Been Better
Lakyn
"Girls, come on. If you’re going to fight in the street, may as well fight inside where I can enjoy it." I turn on my charming grin, spreading my arms as they stop glaring at each other long enough to look at me. These two chicks look like they're about to tear each other the fuck apart, and that's definitely a party I want a front row seat for.
"Sounds great," the blonde one says, sneering at the other one, and I fight the urge to yank a fistful of that golden shit out just so she remembers who the hell she needs to be paying attention to right now, and it's not the little redhead wearing a smile that makes me think of those creepy dolls people used to collect.
"Sure," the redhead replies, and I clap my hands together loud enough to make them both jump and look at me again. They both smile, and I don't blame them. I'm pretty damn nice to look at, and I'm glad they recognize it.
"Perfect. Then why don't we go—"
“Lakyn! You’ve got company!” Ichabod shouts at me from the front yard, and I glance back over my shoulder just far enough to see what the hell is so important. There's a dark-haired kid standing next to him, wiping at his face, and I don't know why Ichabod thinks this little asshole is worth interrupting me when I've got two party favors that just delivered themselves to my goddamn doorstep.
Pausing that thought, I turn back to the girls to finish my sentence. "—inside and get comfortable before you tear each other apart. I'm just going to go handle something. Why don't you grab your shit and come on in?"
Whatever the two teenage chicks say is clearly not important enough for my brain to pay attention, but the look of adoration in their eyes is exactly what I need today. A nice little ego boost to get over Ichabod's weird fucking attitude. He's been twitchy all damn week, and I haven't even fucked him that hard or choked him out on my dick. I've been real fucking nice, and he's over here picking up strays off our doorstep.
Winking at the girls, I turn around and face Ichabod again, dropping my arms to my sides as I watch the kid that's staring at me like I'm the goddamn second coming. Although, something about him does seem... familiar, and as nervous as Ichabod looks, I have a feeling this is going to be a