Page 52 of I Can't Even

“You can’t have the boots,” I said.

“Can I just touch one?” His hazel eyes were wide and glassy. “I just want to feel how the leather hugs your calves.”

“No,” I said. “Absolutely not.”

“Just one finger,” the man said. “Aw, come on, I promise I won’t do any more than that.”

“No!” I used my cat scolding voice. It worked as well on him as it did on my cats. In other words, he ignored me.

“Please,” he whined, beginning to pant. “I’m begging you.”

No one around us was paying any attention to the shoe perv beside me. Hannah and Harry were too far away to hear my shout over the band. And the troll next to me looked so excited I just wanted him to go away. Feeling trapped, I figured if I let him touch one boot with one finger maybe he’d be satisfied and git.

“All right, fine,” I snapped. “One finger on the toe of the right boot for three seconds and that’s it.”

Excitement flared in his eyes like a banked fire getting hit with a blast of oxygen.

“My lovelies!” he cried.

The next thing I knew I had some strange guy’s head wedged between my knees as he hugged my boots with both arms. His momentum made me teeter on my already shaky pins and I flailed my arm as I tried to catch my balance and not spill my cappuccino.

“Hey! I said one finger, you little pervert,” I shouted over the din of music. “Get off me!”

The strange little man had quite the grip, however, and I couldn’t move never mind shake him loose.

Desperate for help, I glanced up and, of course, this was how Liam found me in the middle of his coffee shop with a strange man smooching the instep of my right foot.

“Argh!” I tried to jostle the stubby guy off. “Stop that! Oh, god, no tongue! That is disgusting!”

“Problem?” Liam asked as he moved through the crowd to join us.

I blew out a breath and studied the balding head between my feet. This was so not how I had expected this evening to go. Instead of Liam giving me scalding-hot looks and having the image of me burned onto his brain, yeah, no, my ex had his lips pressed together as he tried not to erupt with laughter.

“Rodney,” he said as he bent over so the guy could hear him. “We’ve talked about this behavior before. You need to rein in the shoe fetish and let go of her boots.”

“But they’re black patent leather and go to mid-thigh,” Rodney mumbled with his face pressed against the inside of my knee as he smelled the leather. “You know that’s my weakness.”

Enough was enough. I didn’t think Liam was going to be able to talk the guy off the leather, so I figured it was time to bring in some back up I’d learned during a self-defense class.

I lifted one foot, bent my knee and shouted, “Incoming!”

I clocked the short man in the temple and Rodney dropped like a stone, letting go of my boots. I took several wobbly steps away from the boot-licker and sipped my cappuccino.

“Whoa,” Liam said. “Nice move.”

“Thanks.” I shrugged.

“Rodney, you okay?” Liam reached down and slapped Rodney’s cheek with three quick pats. Rodney blinked, and Liam helped him up to his feet. “What do you say, Rodney?”

Rodney peered at me with dazed eyes. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I lied.

“I really, really love your boots.” Rodney braced like he was going to lunge again but Liam held him by the back of his shirt.

“I got that,” I said. “Go away now.”

“Rodney, you broke your promise and now you can’t come in here anymore,” Liam said as he hauled him toward the door. “Next time I see you, I’ll call the police. Got it?”

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