First Love (Book 1. The Black Heart Series)

Chapter 18

Josephine-

I stand still, my mouth hanging slightly open as I try to process what in the shit Houston is doing on my front doorstep. I keep the door slightly open with just my head visible, hiding the crutch behind the door. I stare at his face, smiling and expectant before finding the words that fled my mind at his arrival.

"Hi, uh, Houston.. what, uh, are you doing here... at my.. home?" I asked, tripping over my words.

His smile never faltering, he takes a tiny step closer. "I had heard about your accident and felt compelled to come and check on my new dear friend." He said confidently, with his deep and rich accent. I furrow my brows, still not quite understanding. He keeps his eyes trained on me while I study his face. There's that same smile that has been plastered in the middle of that angelic face, chiseled jaw and all. I glance up into his eyes, and something just isn't sitting right. Something is off. He has something hidden behind that oh-so-friendly smile, but I can't quite pick it out. Granted, this is only the second time I've been graced with his presence— so I guess I can't really be sure.

The silent stare-off becomes uncomfortable, so I decide to break the silence with kindness.

"Well, I appreciate the concern, Mr. Sandoval— but I'm afraid I'm not dressed for visitors at the moment." I shuffled awkwardly behind the door, my armpit growing sore from leaning on my crutch so hard.

"Well, I don't mind waiting for you to.." his eyes roam up and down the crack of the door where my body is partially exposed, his eyes lighting up as if he can see through the door, or my clothes, before continuing. "—get freshened up." He completes the sentence with a wicked smile, finally pulling his eyes from my exposed thigh to meet my own. He takes a step back and settles his hands into his pockets. "And please, Josephine, call me Houston." He winks.

I stand there awkwardly, staring at him with a blank expression, wondering if I should offer for him to come inside my very unfinished and unclean house, which is surely not up to his posh standards, or just let him wait outside for thirty minutes while I try to get up the stairs, dressed, and back down within those thirty minutes. And when exactly did I decide that I cared about my home meeting his standards? Or anyone's, for that matter.

Hmm.

"Well I'm afraid I don't have any sitting accommodations in my home yet, but I do have furniture in my garage. I'll go open the door for you." With that, I shut the door quickly, and possibly a little too hard for someone with my fake manners and fake richity upbringing, and hobble my way to the garage door to open it for him.

As soon as it starts to lift, I see his rich leather clad feet standing perfectly still on the other side, and his body perfectly poised in patience as the door slides all the way open and comes to a loud screeching stop. He takes a step inside, his eyes roaming the contents of the garage before landing on me.

Before he can say anything, I quickly start to instruct him towards my makeshift dining table and lawn chairs spread throughout. "Just make yourself at home, the fridge has waters and beer and maybe a Dr. Pepper." I smile a quick one and shut the door behind me before leaning on it.

What the hell am I supposed to do?
I don't even know what to talk to him about.
How long does he plan on staying?
Why is he even here?

I fight the impulse to shut the garage and lock the doors and just be done with him, but I quickly realize that he is already in my garage, and I'll just end up locking him in.

'Fuuuuuuck' I groan, putting my face in my free hand. I really don't want to socialize today, not with him at least. The energy is lacking and the fucks are running out. He been nothing but nice to me, I think, and I've already slammed a door in his face and made it clear he wasn't welcome inside. I'm becoming my mother.