Читать книгу Her Wicked Wolf - Kendra Castle Leigh - Страница 7

THREE

By the time Brie got home, the snow was falling.

By dinnertime, the wind was howling, and the homes across the street had vanished behind an impenetrable curtain of white.

Brie huddled in her overstuffed armchair by the window, watching it come down. She had her knees tucked into her chest, comfortable in baggy jeans, a thick cable-knit sweater, and slipper socks. A cup of hot cider cooled on the end table beside her.

She was brooding. And mentally kicking herself, repeatedly and very, very hard.

Alistair’s car had been back when she’d gotten home. She wasn’t exactly sure how she was ever going to see him again without running in the other direction. Asking him out had been a brief instant of bravery, or maybe just insanity. That would have been embarrassing on its own, but she would have managed to get over it after his inevitable rejection. Things had gotten weird fast, though. He’d seemed so sweet and concerned and actually kind of...shy, almost. So she’d decided to take the plunge and get it over with, carpe diem and all that. In the garage, though, with him so close to her, her body had overridden her brain in a way she hadn’t realized was possible. Had she really sucked on his finger? Really?

Brie closed her eyes and made a soft, strangled sound. Yes. Yes she had.

Maybe she needed therapy. Or medication. Or more of a life. She’d been pretty happy with her life, though, until discovering that she was turning into some kind of nympho stalker.