Heh. He sucked at the whole babysitting thing.
“You’re hurting me,” she said finally, nodding at where his entire hand wrapped around her arm.
“No. I’m not.”
Her face scrunched up. “Okay. You’re annoying me.”
“Want to know a secret?”
Serena looked wary. “What?”
“I don’t care.”
She rolled her eyes. “Real funny."
“Would you like a drink?” he asked, heading toward the cabinet near the fridge.
Hunter glanced at her. “You look surprised.”
“You don’t seem like the type who does gentlemanly things like that.” Or civil things, but I figured I shouldn’t tack that on.
His lips twitched. “I’ve been known to surprise myself every once in awhile. Turning back to the cabinet, he grabbed two glasses. “I have soda, milk, water—”
“Milk? I’m not ten.”
He turned around, eyes glimmering in the light. “And how old are you? Nineteen?”
Offended, Serena leaned back on the stool. “I’m twenty-five.”
“Hmm…” He put the glasses back and picked up two wine flutes.
Her eyes narrowed. “Didn’t they give you like a basic file on me or something?”
“Yes.” Hunter swiped a wine bottle out of its rack.
Staring at the back of his broad shoulders, she pictured a spider monkey landing on him and biting his neck, total vampire style. Actually, maybe zombie style. That would do more damage. “Have you’ve read it?”
Hunter spun around and crossed the distance to the island. He placed a glass of dark wine in front of her. “I have.”
Serena's skin felt tight. That’s how irritated she was getting. “Then if you’ve read even the basics, you would know I’m not nineteen.”
Leaning his elbows on the table, he took a sip of his wine. “Most likely.”
“So you asked if I was nineteen to annoy me?”
“Quite possibly,” he murmured, watching her over the rim of his glass.
A sharp tingle was spreading across the back of her skull, spreading like a heatstroke. “You’re an ass.”
“And you have a potty mouth.” Hunter flashed a quick grin.
She took a deep, calming breath as he finished off his wine in one gulp. She hadn’t even touched hers. “Should you be drinking while you’re working?”
“Should you be asking so many questions?”
“Shouldn’t you have at least put a shirt on by now?” she snapped back. “Adding that to the whole drinking thing, you’re really inappropriate.”
Hunter chuckled, and the sound, oh wow, the sound of his amused laugh sent a shiver down her legs.
He prowled around the island. He didn’t walk—oh, no—the graceful movements of his denim clad thighs reminded her more of a great lion stalking its prey than how a human walked. Her breath stalled out as he sat beside her, spreading his thighs wide so that one brushed her own leg.
Gripping the stool, she scooted away. The metal legs made this horrible scratching sound. She hoped she ruined his tile. “What did you want to talk about?”
Hunter inched his stool toward hers, taking back the distance. Even sitting down, he was a good head or two taller, so when he bent over, his face was right in hers. “You.”
Her throat dried. “You’re in my personal space.”
“You’re in my home therefore that cancels out your personal space.”
“Your logic is faulty.”
He cocked his head to the side, lashes lowering. “My logic is the only logic around here. You need to get used to that.”
And he needed to get used to blunt objects being thrown at his head, because it was about to happen again