Runt of the Litter (Halfbreed Chronicles Book 1) (2 page)

I had just stepped off the bus, and was walking across the
street to Main Street.  Sure, I probably could have asked to borrow Lou’s
bike, but it seemed tense enough, and I simply don’t have enough energy to
really feign any more indifference to him.  I get that where he’s coming
from, his prodding and teasing is probably meant as endearment, but it’s just
not my way of doing things, and I’m already running on fumes today.  The
fields of Sleepy Eye are behind me, nature, and downtown cut off by 1-52, a
two lane
highway that connects a few small towns on their
way into Atlanta.  

The holiday festival is already getting built out there, a
good mile back from the road, in order to include the corn maze.  It’ll
have all the cheesy things that get people excited for at Halloween, like a hot
chocolate stand, and fair games, and some concert that will feature mostly
local talent, which shouldn’t be too bad, if last year is any indication.
 But for some reason, the Council is holding registration here, versus
Atlanta.  I couldn’t even begin to ask why, the administration only
confusing me more, the more I dig.

But I got other things to worry about.  I’m meeting
the Johnson family at the library, where I rented out a meeting room to go over
their books from the last six months.  A lot of the locals like to get
things in order for the
new year
, and this meeting is
no different.  I got at least three more this month.  This afternoon
is merely about me getting their gathered paperwork, and doing a quick look
over, before taking it all home with me to study.

I must be distracted by what’s lying ahead of me, because
as soon as I round the front of the bus, I hear the driver honk - loud enough
that it freezes me in place, as I try to regain my senses and figure out what
they guy’s problem is.  But as I look back to see what’s going on, I catch
the glimpse of a car about to collide with me, and instinct takes over.
 With almost unnatural precision, I jump up in the air, landing on the
hood, before the screeching brakes of the car propel me forward even more.
 With no power to stop gravity from inflicting its course, I finally land
in the backseat, because for some reason, these people actually have their top
down in October (even if it is Georgia).

I tend to heal quickly, and nothing feels broken, but
surely it’s about as weird of a way to meet anybody that I’ve ever heard of.
 Looking up from the scattered papers that somehow only managed to break
free from my leather bag when I fell on it, I watch as one final piece lands in
my lap, clearing the view from the front side of the car.  Two gorgeous
women are looking down at me, obviously concerned, if not stunned, and suddenly
- though I had had half a mind to tell them off for not looking where they were
going (after all, anybody else probably would have been killed) - I can’t help
but feel downright small under their stare.

I don’t even try to come up with anything witty,
“Hello.”

My voice sounds an octave higher than usual, and it’s not
that deep to begin with.  The brunette smiles a little, but the
raven haired
one practically chuckles, and I can tell the
slightest blush is coming across my cheeks.

“Hey there
handsome, thanks for dropping in.”

I quickly sit up, never one to do well with direct
attention, and want to mumble some sort of reply, but instead I start gathering
my papers, trying to make as quick of an exit as possible.

I stop just long enough to let the tone sink in, the raven
haired one is trying to be kind, and I guess since I haven’t said anything but
a pipsqueak hello, I might need to assure them I’m not hurt - or if anything
let them know that I’m not coming after them for money or something.  I
finally allow myself a longer look, and realize just how ridiculously beautiful
they both are.  Symmetrical, almost angular features, with piercing ice
blue eyes, and long straight hair.  One reminds me of chocolate, but the
raven - her hair looks so
black,
it’s almost blue
under the sunlight.  I realize I still haven’t said anything, and I try to
at least nod, indicating I can understand basic questions, before I finally say
something, anything,
“I just need to get
to a meeting.”

They look at each other briefly, and I grab the last few
papers and stuff them haphazardly into my bag, before reaching for the door,
realizing it’s a two
seater
and they have to let me
out.  Sure, I could just hop out, but seeing as we got half the town
looking at us already, I figure better to not draw any more attention to us.
 Realizing I’m trying to leave, the raven steps out, and begins to open
the door, as I try to slide out as smoothly as possible.  She might be out
of my league, but that doesn’t mean I should trip over myself even more than I
already have.  Once I’m standing fully erect, I realize she’s barely moved
back from the door, not really allowing me the quick exit that I had hoped.

The other townspeople, and even the
bus
,driver
seeing that I’m seemingly okay, begin to move
about once more, going about with their lives, while I’m stuck between a car I
just fell into, and a woman who could seemingly turn just about any man into a
puddle of mush.  I try not to stare, and look down, realizing I’m getting
an all too good view of her almost bare legs - ripped shorts that go down to
her thighs, and black lace stockings, that end in biker boots, not unlike the
kind Lou wears.  Figures, she’d be a perfect match for someone like him.
 But for me, I probably look like a ridiculous creature, standing next to
a beauty like her.

“Eyes up here
buddy.”

Instantly my eyes shoot up, after realizing I’ve just been
caught checking her out.  Just as quickly though, I feel her eyes do the
same, and I immediately try to make myself taller, and not look so meek under
her gaze.  I don’t know why I bother, but maybe
it’s
just nature in me trying to strut like a peacock under the gaze.  Finally,
I got something to reply with,
“Eyes up
here lady.”

I never claimed to be original.

She doesn’t respond quite as quickly as I did, seemingly
lingering on the tight grip I’m giving my leather bag across my chest - letting
what seems like a good half minute pass - before her big eyes come to meet
mine,
“You have a habit of landing in
ladies’ cars?”

“You got a habit of
running men over
?,
”
I’m surprised by how easy the
retort came, even with her lush lips smirking at me.

“That was my sister
Savannah’s doing, and I’m sure she feels horrible as is -
“
 
The
brunette chimes in
from behind me, starting to strew apologies, but neither of us seem all that
phased by it, at least not enough to break our gaze,
“Besides, we didn’t run you over, you practically ran over us when you
tumbled into the car.  If you needed a ride, you could’ve just asked.”
 She steps a little closer, standing merely a few inches away and I can tell
she’s sniffing me by the way her nostrils flare ever so slightly.  A human
might not have noticed the subtle move, but I sure as heck did, and I back away
a little, not sure what she could possibly be trying to accomplish,
“Excuse me?”

She realizes she’s been caught
redhanded
,
but instead of backtracking she just looks at me, and I feel more confused than
ever.  This feels like the longest interlude I have ever had with a woman,
besides Liam’s wife, Haley of course.  I mean, to most humans, I’m decent looking,
with my blonde hair, and blue eyes.  And I’m 5’11 - tall enough for a
human man, and as I now realize, just as tall as the woman before me.
 Neither of us
have
to look up or down at one
another, we’re just equal in our gaze, and I can’t help but soften a little.

I’m probably reading more into it, but for a second, I
smell a change in her pheromones, and I perk up a little, surprised that I even
care in the first place.  It’s not that no one
has
 ever
showed interest in me, or that I’m not curious about love (or
Hell, just even sex).  But I have yet to meet a
halfbreed
like me, and though my brother lucked out with a human, I think she’s the
exception in her willingness to tolerate us.  And I won’t even begin to
discuss the ludicrous notion of a pureblood falling for a
halfbreed
.
 It just doesn’t happen.

Finally, she speaks, and I’m kind of surprised she doesn’t
just climb back in the car, but instead insists on finding out more about me.
 I don’t get it.  But um, okay.

“So what’s your name sugar?”

Never having been called any other nickname but “runt”,
I’m getting a little too happy at her nicknames for me, and though I try to
tell myself she’s just friendly and calls everyone these names, I go with it
anyway.  Even if it’s just for a few more minutes, I like the feeling of
her kindness.  But then I remember I have this ludicrous name, and I
wished I
was
as smooth as Lou, who would just come up
with something quick on the spot.  I shift a little, from one leg to the
next, my hands still gripping my broken bag tightly to avoid the papers falling
out,
“Uh, it’s - it’s Avery.  Avery
Gallagher.”

She practically snorts, and once again, I feel about five
inches tall.  I could just walk away, and half a mind to do just that, but
just as I’m about ready to bolt, she catches my look, and her tone changes
immediately - as if she wants to explain herself.  She doesn’t really seem
the type to explain herself to anybody, so though my pride is about as wounded
as can be, I remain in place.
“I wasn’t laughing at you, it’s just
that our parents had the same idea.”

My brow lifts quizzically, and luckily she doesn’t make me
guess what she means,
“My name is
Connolly, Riley Connolly.  See?  Both our parents gave us unisex
names.  It’s kind of
cosmical
that we ran into
each other then.”
“Well you ran into me - “
I mumble,
and she smirks before laughing.  And I pause realizing she laughed at my
joke, not me.  
Kinda
nice to be honest.  Still, I realize just how late I must be, and I try to
be polite about it, but I really have to get going,
“I’m sorry, but I need to get to an appointment, so though it was nice
to meet you . . . ”

I didn’t think she’d push it any further, chalking up her
general disposition to nothing more than a general kindness she extends to
everyone, but here she is, pulling out one of the pages from my haphazard pile
and is so close to me, I could pull her into my
arms  I
get a whiff of her scent - a mix of lilies, and honey - and my mouth begins to
water.  I’ve never had a strong physical attraction to anyone before, but
I can’t help but keep looking at her, for as long as she lets me . . .
“Got a pen?”

I look down and realize she’s folded the paper, presumably
to write something, though I don’t know what for.  I try to hold the
remainder of papers in place, before reaching into my back pocket and letting
her take the pen.  She jots something down quick enough, then goes to hand
me back both items.  Once I reach for them, our fingertips connect just
for a moment, but as soon as they do, I feel a kind of electric shock happen.
 How quickly she pulls her own hand back, tells me she felt it, too.
 Though now she seems to have grown almost as sheepish as me.
 Almost.

“I wrote down my
name and number.  Why don’t you call me when you get done with your appointment,
and you can take me out tonight.”

She says it more as a statement, not a question, and I’m
not sure she knows what she means.  Maybe she hit her head when the car
collided with me.  Just in case she’s confused, I chuckle, nervously,
“Take you where?”

She puts her hands on her hips, and I can see just how
small her waist is under that denim jacket.  Worried she might notice the
drool that inevitably must be coming at any moment, I don’t speak again until
she responds,
“A date, silly - seven
work for you?”
Why even give me her number then, if she plans on arranging this date here and
now?  But
wait
,
is this really
happening
?  I feel more confused than ever, but who am I to say no
to her?  I merely nod my head, not wanting to argue against any reasoning
that is allowing her to spend more time with me.  She smiles, her white
teeth shining against the red lipstick.  Something inside me stirs a
little, and for some reason all I can think about, is how she’d look with that
same lipstick smeared on my skin.  

Get a grip, I tell myself, but the way her scent wafts
passed me (as she finally moves out of the way for me to go), has got me
slightly lightheaded.  I kind of feel like following her around like a
lost puppy, though I have no idea why.  She climbs into her car, and looks
up at me from about my waist level.  The position of our bodies is giving
me obscene thoughts, and I’m glad when she suggests the local bar, so her
sister can drive off, before they notice the erection starting to strain my
jeans.