Page 4 of Don't Scare Me, My Love

”Scary things happen in real life. But most of the time, it’s not asentertaininglygory.”

“Guess you got me there.”

He chewed on his lips, trying to hide a grin. “So you like to shock people to get them off your back?”

“You haven’t heard the half of my stories.”

“Oh please, tell me more.”

“More, huh?”

“Yeah? Who doesn’t like to hear scary stories?” He leaned one arm on the counter and focused his gaze on me, eager to hear more of my bullshit.

“Well, my parents always told me that carrots were good for my eyes. So…” I made a jabbing motion as if sticking a carrot in my eye. ”Boy, were they wrong.”

He laughed, showing all his teeth as if I had made the greatest joke in the world—and I couldn’t deny that his genuine reaction spurred me on.

“Oh, wait. Another one of my favorites is this.” I stood up, craning my neck as I pretended to talk to someone behind him. “Yeah, this?” I pointed to my face. “I sold an eye to pay for my mail-order husband. Turns out he was just a blow-up doll.”

He laughed even harder. “You’re hilarious, man. Did anyone ever believe it?”

“Most of them did.”

“I can imagine them slowly dying inside when you tell them. I’d pay good money to see that.”

We stared at each other for a moment. Somehow, in a matter of seconds, we went from being creepy to almost acting likebest friends. It was probably my imagination, but…was this gorgeous guy interested in me?

“What brings you out here to Seastone?” I asked him.

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t plan to come here? That I just followed a hunch and am on my way to nowhere?” He was still chuckling, but I wasn’t sure what to make of his answer. “Who knows? Maybe I’m acerealkiller?” he said, standing up, now towering over me. He grinned as wide as he could, like he was trying to show off his beautiful teeth to get cast as a vampire. “You know? As incereal? The food?”

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back. “That was the worst joke I ever heard.”

“Well, at least my joke died. If that doesn’t count, I don’t know.”

“You’re weird.”

“Says the guy who tells people that a dog ate his eyeball.”

“My morbidity doesn’t make you any less weird.”

The guy chuckled competitively. “Well, you don’t know the half of how weird Iam.”

“True,” I replied, dropping back onto the stool. I crossed my legs, leaned against the counter, and smirked at him. “Try me.”

“For starters, I once slept in a cemetery for a dare and liked it so much that I stayed for a week.”

“That’s it?”

“I also almost became a dermatologist because I loved watching those pimple-popping videos.”

“You’re not even half as weird as me. I scare people on Halloween by showing them my empty eye socket.”

He made a face that was both disgusted and amused. “I can only fall asleep listening to true crime podcasts, even though I often sleep in my car.”

“Every pizza I’ve had since I was twenty has had a pineapple topping.”

The bell of the door rang again, announcing the next customer. Both of our heads flew up as if it were clear that we shouldn’t be having this conversation in front of another living being.

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