Her eyes narrowed just as a loud male voice yelled. “Pumpkin!”

I’m sure my horror matched hers as she quickly looked around the room then grabbed my arm and shoved me into her closet, closing it on my face before I heard her yell. “Hold on, Daddy, I’m changing.”

Sweet hell. I muttered a curse as her scent surrounded me, literally, choking the control away from my brain and disposing of it in my dick.

I could do this. I’d been in situations of temptation before. For shits sake, I was a celebrity! I had tits and ass thrown at me every hour of the day—when I wasn’t holed up in my manager’s house in Malibu or here in Seaside.

Whatever. “Shake it off, Zane.” I breathed in and out as a knock sounded on the door.

“What’s up, Daddy?” Oh shit, her voice sounded like she’d just been strangled. Why was it my luck that I was stuck with a girl who couldn’t lie to save her life and a father who hunted large animals for sport?

I tried not to move a muscle.

Which meant of course, I had to sneeze.

But her closet was freakishly small, like made for a midget or something. Legs burning, I kept myself in a semi-crouched position and thought about everything but the itch on the side of my nose.

I couldn’t even reach my marshmallows.

But at least I knew they were there.

What I couldn’t figure out, was how, after years of having that security, I had managed to simply forget to stock up before going out?

“You sound different,” her dad muttered. “Are you okay? Still sad?”

“Nope. Not sad! I was just getting ready for bed.” Her voice was way too loud and fake. Well, I was going to be on the eleven o’clock news. Goodbye cruel, cruel world.

“Baby…” Her dad sighed. “I know that he broke your heart.”

My chest felt heavy.

“He didn’t,” she corrected him. “I’m fine.”

“You were sobbing!”

Forget a heavy chest, it was cracking, splitting in two. What kind of bastard yells at an innocent girl who tries to save his sorry ass? I stifled a sigh. This one.

“I’m a girl,” she said cheerfully. “We have our moments, you know? Plus he’s my friend, and sometimes you hurt the people closest to you.”

That wasn’t a lie. Not even close. It was truth.

I knew it as much as she did.

Because somehow…I wasn’t just attracted to her. Oh sure, I wanted her body, oddly enough I was even starting to miss her glasses. But I liked her.

As a person.

As in, one of my favorite people.

And I’d met her a little less than two weeks ago.

Terrifying, to think of the multiplication of days and months—by Christmas, I was probably going to be writing her love songs and turning into all of my friends.

Complete saps.

Losers.

Not that I didn’t want a life where I came home to someone, to something—hell a home would even be nice.

But she didn’t fit with my lifestyle.

Nobody did.

I pushed the yearning deep down, just like I pushed down the wicked need I had to make her mine.

“Okay, sweetie.” Her dad sighed loudly. “I’ll make pancakes tomorrow morning, how’s that sound?”

I rolled my eyes. She had no idea how good she had it.

Holy shit, was I actually jealous of her family?

That was new.

The feeling of wanting, not just the girl, but the whole package, even the crazy gun-wielding dad.

Hell, I needed to go back to LA. Fast.

“Thanks, Dad, love you.”

“Love you too.” His voice was gruff, deep, dripping with emotion as the door shut.

I exhaled in relief then remembered the itch on my nose just as the closet door opened.

Ahh-choo! I sneezed all over the pretty girl.

Because that’s how you get laid, you sneeze to mark your territory. Sweet God, why hadn’t her dad just discovered me, shot me, and buried the body?

Fallon scrunched up her nose. “Bless you.”

“I’m the saint, I should be blessing you,” I countered, trying to recover from embarrassment. I gripped some clothes to stand and ended up falling down again, this time with dresses covering my face.

Shocked, I jerked back. “You have dresses?”

Fallon gritted her teeth and snagged them away from me. “For church.”

I smirked. “Care to confess?”

“Just because that’s your nickname doesn’t make you an actual saint, dude.”

I perked up. “Did you just call me dude?”

Fallon shoved her dresses back onto the hangers and hung them above my head. “You have five seconds before I call my dad—he was cleaning his rifle.”

I held up my hands, still sitting on my ass next to a clutter of shoes and—holy shit was that a Lego set? “You like Legos.”

“You climb into my window, and that’s all you have to say?”

“Yeah.” I was dumbfounded. “You’re a girl.”

“I like…” She fidgeted with her Portland State sweatshirt. “I like building things.”

“Me too.” Could I have been anymore quick to answer?

Her smile made my entire night better, the way it tilted her lips, forcing her to reveal her teeth and amazing tasting tongue. “You’re a child, you know that, right?”

“I did have an obsession with Peter Pan when I was little.”

“Like the tights, huh?”