Blind Spot - Katana Collins Page 0,2

Nintendo shirt and did a twirl for him. “I’m offended that you can’t tell.”

For a moment there, I wasn’t sure he got my humor. He regarded me cautiously, as though sizing me up. Then, taking in my worn jeans, retro tee, and (I’m sure) messy ponytail, his mouth twitched with that same smirk. Only this time, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course, of course.” He mocked a bow, tipping an invisible hat. And when he looked up through a web of thick lashes, my breath nearly gave way.

“You know I’m screwing with you, right?” I matched his grin and hoisted the box onto my other hip.

His smirk widened, slipping into a smile. And hot damn, that smile. It could easily be responsible for global warming. “Oh, you can screw with me whenever you want, darlin’.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but the words got completely lost on the way out. Like, they disappeared into a different universe or something. The tingle moved to a full on electric bolt through my body, and to my absolute disbelief, the tips of my breasts responded as though I had walked into a freezer.

Normally, that kind of line would scream asshole, but from him it was hot.

He laughed at my lack of response and gestured to the box. “Can I help you with that? Shelby, right?”

His voice slid into me, under my skin, where I was pretty sure it could take up permanent residence. I nodded. God, I needed to get a grip. “Yeah, Shelby. And—I…no. But thank you. Someone needs to stay here by the desk, right?”

“Right, right,” he said. “Someone’s gotta open the door for all those heiresses.” Amusement flashed in his eyes, and he laughed, dropping his head. “I have to tell you, I’m not—”

Harrison and Reagan popped out of the elevator, interrupting us. Harrison walked quickly by for the next load of boxes, while Reagan stopped in front of me, putting hands to her hips and tapping her toe. “You two are adorable and all, but I am not moving all your shit for you.” Pressing her palms to my back, she gave me a gentle push to the elevators.

I shrugged, and the guy grinned back at me as another man, older and also in a suit, came up from the basement. He shook hands with the hot guy, who waved before pushing through the front door, relieved of his shift for the day.

Damn. I hadn’t even gotten his name.

…

A few hours later, I put the last book onto my shelf with a contented sigh, straightening the framed picture of my mom and me beside it. Done. For the first time in three years, I was actually glad to have spent my adult life in the dorms. It made for a quick and easy move. Harrison gave me some of his furniture—a bookshelf, a futon, a trunk that I’d be using as a coffee table, and a couple other odds and ends.

The minimalist lifestyle suited me well. And the lack of furniture made the small apartment more roomy. Glass half full, right?

From above us came a pounding noise, not dissimilar to the sound of elephants stampeding. I stole a quick glance at the clock—a little past eleven. “What the hell are they doing up there?” I looked to the ceiling as though it held all the answers. Music, heavy on the bass, pumped through the vents and the walls vibrated with the pulsing rhythm.

Reagan followed my gaze. “It’s the fifteenth floor up there, right? That’s the penthouse.”

“So?”

She shrugged. “So nothing,” she said. “Just, I bet they throw some kick-ass parties.”

I snorted, curling my lip at the thought. “Of course they do. And they get away with noise pollution while they’re at it.”

Harrison snaked an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in for a hug. “C’mon. Don’t let the penthouse folks ruin moving day. This place is amazing.”

I rolled my eyes and gave him a gentle push. “Oh, please. You both live in Newbury Commons. Your apartments are triple the size of this place.”

Reagan dropped herself onto the futon—my futon—and kicked her feet up on the trunk. “Sure, if you like buildings that are a hundred years old.”

“You live in the historic district. All the buildings there are a hundred years old.”

She shrugged and rolled her eyes, grabbing a slice of pizza. “Whatever. All I’m saying is that you live in a brand new building. With state of the art everything.”

My stomach flipped. I did, didn’t I? And