Enslaved (The Inbetween Novels) (21 page)

Gods be damned, that light is bright enough to illuminate an entire solar system.

Deryck threw an arm up to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness burning his corneas. Peeking around the bag in his hand, he winced and ducked behind his makeshift shade. It was a wonder no one in the neighborhood complained about the brightness of Shayla’s front porch light. Most folks opted for a plain sixty-watt bulb. She had an industrial fixture above her door, likely lifted from an airport runway or something.

Black splotches danced in front of Deryck’s eyes. He heard a click and a soft whoosh. Bracing himself, he lowered his arm and smiled at the woman in the open doorway.

“Hey, Shayla.”

“Why are you squinting?” She clapped a hand to her mouth. A squeak of laughter leaked through her fingers. “Sorry about the light. One can never be too safe.”

“Here I thought you had something against people actually seeing your front door.”

Shayla flipped off the light. The world seemed too dark after being nearly blinded.

Deryck blinked a few times to chase the dark spots out of his vision. “Thank you.”

Shayla’s eyes dropped to the paper bags in his hands. “Are those what I think they are?”

He smiled and wagged the lighter bag gently. “Fresh baked addiction. I couldn’t think of anything else . . . to bring, that is.” Deryck kicked himself.
Way to make it sound like you enjoyed the doughnuts more than her company, jackass. What will you do next, hit on her best friend and make out with her mother?
Somewhere in the universe there must exist a dating manual. He desperately needed to get his hands on it before Shayla thought him a total jerk.

“Come in.” She stepped aside and gestured toward the entryway of her home. “What’s in the other bag?”

Deryck followed her through the front door and closed it behind them. “I didn’t know what to bring for drinks, so I asked Pearl.” He shook the second bag. “Do you still like strawberry milk?”

“Oh my God.” Shayla snatched the heavier bag from him and peered inside. “I can’t believe she remembered.” She flashed him a smile. Deryck swore part of his insides melted. “You might as well hand over the other bag before I tackle you for it.”

Deryck chuckled and handed it over, even though he’d love to feel her body pressed against his.
Cool it before she figures out you aren’t the gentleman you pretend to be around her.

The entryway to Shayla’s home was short, with enough room for them, a coat rack, a small table where her keys and mail sat neatly, and not much else. A wave of chemical lemon scent assaulted his nose, coming from the two rooms splitting off the hallway. To the right was the dining room. Every surface in the space gleamed in the light from the small wrought iron chandelier hung above a small dining set with four chairs. Obviously, Shayla came from a small family, or didn’t entertain guests much. He couldn’t comprehend eating a meal without at least ten people crowded around the table. Tiny figurines cluttered a long cabinet along the far wall, most from cartoons he didn’t know, but had seen often in his time in the human realm.

Across the hall was the living room. The space was much more Shayla, instead of a preconception of what “normal” looked like. A row of three large bookcases took up an entire wall of the room. One of the cases overflowed with small plastic cases and stacks of shining disks. The other cases held so many books, Deryck couldn’t figure out how they didn’t topple over from the weight. Above the large flat screen TV hung a painting of a woman with platinum hair hunting in a forest. Deryck narrowed his eyes and took a step into the living room. No, it wasn’t a woman. The painted figure was male and tips of his ears were pointed. He had his bow drawn and aimed at a shadowy figure in the distance.

Deryck smiled.
This is the real Shayla.

Shayla’s bare feet padded down the hall. Deryck turned to relieve her of the bags. She held on to them. “Let me grab some glasses and put the doughnuts on a plate. At least we can pretend to be civil.”

“Do you need any help?”

“Nope. Go ahead and get comfortable in the living room. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into the open doorway of the kitchen.

Deryck made it two feet into the living room before Shayla leaned out of the kitchen and called, “The right corner of the couch is mine.” She gave him a playful warning look and vanished again.

Amused, Deryck decided to play it safe and avoid the couch altogether. He settled into the oversized chair beside the couch. The soft seat swallowed his large frame. How on earth did Shayla sit in it without disappearing for days on end? It was a good reading chair. He easily imagined her curled up sideways with her legs dangling over the arm.

From the kitchen, he heard the gentle clinking of glasses and the pat-pat-pat of Shayla’s bare feet on the floor.
She has really sexy feet.
Deryck shook his head at the thought. “I’m losing my mind.”

Shayla crossed the hall, a long, oval plate balanced precariously atop two tall glasses of strawberry milk. Deryck jumped up and grabbed the plate as it tilted dangerously close to falling.

“Thanks.” She set the glasses down on the low table in front of the couch.

Deryck put the plate of doughnuts beside them. “You should’ve let me help.”

“I had it covered.” Shayla dropped onto the couch.

Deryck raised a brow and settled into the man-eating chair again. “If by covered, you mean about to cover the floor in dessert, then yes, you had it covered perfectly well.”

She cut a look his way and grabbed a powdered, jelly-filled doughnut off the plate. Deryck followed her lead, glad to fill his mouth with something other than sarcasm which could potentially land him locked out of her house.

“What are we watching?”

Shayla grabbed a small rectangular device off of the couch cushion beside her feet. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I went with something safe.”

The television across the room flared to life. Music poured out of the speakers, loud and commanding. “The Avengers” scrawled across the top of the screen. Deryck wished he had a clue what she’d picked. He knew he was about to make an ass of himself.

“What’s this?”

Shayla gaped at him. “You haven’t seen
The Avengers
? Oh man, you’ve been living under one heck of a rock.”

She pressed a button on the device in her hand. The music cut off and the image on the screen changed. Shayla grabbed her glass of milk and scooted into the corner of the couch.

Deryck tried to pay attention to the creatures talking on the screen, but his eyes drifted over to watch Shayla watching the film. Her facial expressions when new characters appeared were mesmerizing. He had no clue what was happening in the movie, but loved it for the simple fact that it allowed him to see a side of Shayla he’d never seen before, and he doubted many others had either. She was relaxed, comfortable, and sexy as hell in a slightly oversized sweater and jeans.

He’s looking at me again. Is there something in my hair?

Shayla subtly ran her hand through her ponytail to make sure it looked okay. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Deryck’s eyes follow the path of her hand before going back to the TV. His gaze wasn’t the same intense, predatory look Harry had given her earlier. He seemed curious about her, about what she liked. But obviously, the movie wasn’t doing anything for him.

“If you’re not going to watch the movie, I might as well turn it off.”

Deryck’s eyes shot back to her. “But you’re enjoying it.”

“I got it for us to watch together. I saw it more times than I’d like to admit to when it was in theaters. Don’t you like it?”

His eyes darted away from hers. “What I’ve seen of it is enjoyable.”

“What else is there to see?” She looked around her living room. What else could have caught his attention?

“You.”

Holy crap. Did he just say that?

Convinced she was hearing things, Shayla dove for another doughnut to bite into before she stupidly questioned whether he truly meant what he said or if he was trying to get in her pants. If she had to be perfectly honest with herself, the line almost worked at getting her to swoon like a stupid teen girl at prom. No one ever thought she was special unless they wanted something from her. No one.

They watched the movie in silence for a little while. Shayla finished the last of her strawberry milk and set the glass down on the coffee table. When she sat back against the arm of the couch, she caught a flash of Deryck’s eyes.

“If you’re going to stare, you might as well join me on the couch so you don’t strain your eyes.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uneasy.”

“You aren’t a snake waiting to bite my ankle. Come on.” She patted the couch beside her.

Deryck stood and shuffled in the narrow gap between the couch and the coffee table. He took a seat on the other side of the couch. Shayla tucked her feet closer to her backside to give him more room.

“Sorry, I like to sprawl everywhere when I watch movies.”

“It’s okay, go ahead and get comfortable.”

Shayla stretched her legs out. The balls of her feet brushed the side seam of Deryck’s jeans and she pulled them back far enough to not invade his personal space. “I miss this.”

Deryck chuckled at something on the TV before looking at her again. “Miss what?”

“Being able to sit with someone and relax while watching a good movie.”

“You do this often, then?”

Shayla caught the unspoken question.
You do this with other men?
She shook her head. “With my female friends. But since Faye is all stressed about the baby—“

“Faye is the woman with you the afternoon your purse was stolen?”

Shayla nodded. “Yeah. She found out a couple days later. I can’t believe it. She didn’t seem ready to be with her current boyfriend for all that long, but now the baby is on the way. They’re making plans to live together for the baby’s sake. It sounds selfish, but it has cut into our girl time. I’m a bad friend, huh?”

Deryck patted her calf, a bare touch before he pulled his hand away. “No, not at all. You miss your friend.”

The movie ended and credits scrolled across the screen. Shayla turned to face Deryck, pulling her knees up to her chest. “It’s been so hard. I feel like I should be there more for her, but at the same time allow her and Phil time to get ready for the baby.”

Deryck echoed her movement, crossing one of his long legs across the couch and tucking his foot behind his other knee. “Can you find a way to do both? Take her shopping for baby stuff. You can support her and not invade her home time with Phil.”

Shayla smiled. “Why haven’t I thought about that? You’re a genius.”

“I know a lot of people who’d like to argue that.”

“Then you know a lot of jealous people.”

A look passed through Deryck’s eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the palm against his leg. Had she upset him? Shayla was woefully out of practice with talking to men who weren’t coworkers and therefore on the “Do Not Flirt” list. Obviously her practice run with Harry hadn’t helped matters, either. She was at a loss on what to say to fix the conversation.

“Jealousy is a small emotion for small people. If I were hurt every time someone in my life tried to cut me down with jealous barbs, I’d never get out of bed again. You can’t live life according to the emotions of others, especially if their sole purpose is to make you ashamed of being yourself. They’re not worth the effort of being upset.”

Shayla smiled. “There you go again. You should be a writer, not a model.”