Oh, Keep Your Shirt On - Michelle Pennington Page 0,64
night of Damien’s last party that I’d sort of built her up in my head into some big thing. Maybe she was just a girl trying to find someone who made her happy. A beautiful girl with a perfect figure and a friendly, outgoing personality—but still somehow alone.
Without another word—because I had no idea what to say—I got into my car and backed down the road far enough to give Jen room to get out. She waved at me as she drove by, and I waved back. She wasn’t a threat to me anymore. I didn’t think Victoria was either.
Once I’d gotten my car shut into the garage for the night, I headed outside to the back. So, he’d told Jen to block my driveway, huh? Well, that was more than enough reason to go hunt him down.
I found him standing with a bunch of other guys around the fire pit, his back to me. I’d recognize his posture and the set of his shoulders anywhere. Then I realized that there was a white rectangle on the back of his shirt. I narrowed my eyes, trying to see what it was.
As I got closer, I realized that someone had taped a sign to his back.
No way. That was my thing.
Another few yards, and I could make out what it said: Property of Krista. Hands off.
I stopped, frozen by shock, and stared at it. Who? How?
I had no answers, but I could save him from the embarrassment, so instead of rushing toward him to start a fight, I went to save him instead. I stumbled to a stop just inches away from him and pulled on the sign.
But it didn’t come away. It just tugged his shirt down and stayed there. Whoever had put it on his back must have used superglue instead of tape.
Damien turned around, pulling at the neckline of his shirt to save himself from choking. “Krista,” he said, when he could speak again.
“Hold on. You’ve got a sign on your back.”
“I do?” he asked, trying to look over his shoulder and tugging on his shirt.
“Be still.” I pushed on his massive shoulders until he turned around for me and held still while I pried the paper loose. It ripped almost in half, but I finally got it off, duct tape and all. Dang. Whoever it was didn’t want this to come off.
As I crumpled it up, I thought hard and looked around at Damien’s friends. The only one who’d been here who even knew me was Victoria. And she wouldn’t have done this...would she?
Damien grabbed the paper away from me and walked over to the patio table. He smoothed it out and pushed the torn edges back together again.
I waited, flustered and embarrassed, to see how he’d react to it.
“Wow, sweetheart! You didn’t need to resort to this. All you had to do was say you wanted to be my girlfriend.”
I gaped at him. “Wait. I didn’t put that on you.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing me. “Okay. Even though you’ve got a history of taping signs on people and even though you’ve been threatening to do something like this if I made you mad? Which obviously I did earlier today. Do you still have a job, by the way?”
“What? Yeah. But I didn’t—”
“And even though literally no one else here would have written these words?”
I pressed my hands over my face, unable to face him. Or any of the dozen people watching us. “Damien, stop! Why would I—”
He pried my hands away from my face. “Are you crying?”
“Just when I was starting to think I could do this, you keep making me mad. I’m an idiot.”
“Dang it, Krista.”
Then, before I knew what was happening, he flung me over his shoulder and strode toward his back door. I beat my fist against his back. “Not your place. There are people there.”
He muttered a curse and changed directions. His long stride covered ground so fast that in no time, he’d carried me inside my house. Bending forward, he loosened his grip and let me slide off. “Now, why the heck are you crying? It was just a joke, and everyone out there knew it.”
I tugged my shirt down since it had ridden up. “The sign was a joke?”
“No. Accusing you of putting it on me was a joke. They all know I put it on myself.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. Just in case you got any ideas about other girls chasing after me at the party. I wanted to make