Page 24 of Light

He looks almost offended. "It’s the low sugar kind. I even got apple, not grape. That’s the responsible flavor, right?"

I bite my lip to hide the laugh threatening to slip out. His face is just so serious about it, like he really thought this through.

"You really think that’s going to impress me?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

Light nods, smug and unrepentant. "That, and the fact that I didn’t sleep with the cashier at the gas station this time."

I snort before I can stop myself, the noise popping out embarrassingly loud. God help me, he’s impossible to deal with.

"Congratulations," I deadpan. "You want a cookie?"

Light leans in a little, close enough that I catch the faint scent of soap and leather clinging to him. "Only if you feed it to me. Slowly."

My whole body heats up so fast it’s like standing in front of a blast furnace. He’s too close. Too handsome. Too much.

I turn quickly on my heel, putting a few steps between us before I say something stupid. Over my shoulder, I toss, "You know for an electrician, I thought you'd be smarter."

Behind me, Light lets out a fake, wounded gasp. "Ouch. You wound me."

"Good," I smirk as I head toward the kitchen. "Then maybe you’ll stop coming around like you’re on a campaign trail."

Light follows me inside, the bags rustling as he walks. "Campaign trail? Sweetheart, you act like I’m knocking on doors with a clipboard."

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, fighting another smile. His broad frame somehow makes my small kitchen look even smaller, and the easy way he moves around in my space, like he belongs there, sets my nerves on fire.

"You basically are," I say, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. "Only difference is, politicians usually come bearing empty promises. You bring juice and bad decisions."

Light chuckles low and easy as he sets the bags down on the counter. "Stick with me, beautiful. I'll keep the juice flowing and the bad decisions interesting."

I shake my head, pretending to be unimpressed. But inside, I can feel my heart doing backflips like a teenage girl at her first dance.

Tyler peeks his head around the corner from the living room, eyeing the bags like a cat eyeing a mouse. "Hey! Did you bring chips?"

Light points a finger at him like they’re co-conspirators. "Got two kinds, little man. BBQ and plain. Because I’m not a total monster."

Tyler throws his arms up in a victorious cheer and dives back into the living room.

I lean my hip against the counter, watching Light as he unloads the loot.

I should ask him why he's here. I should tell him he can't keep doing this, showing up unannounced, bringing chaos and candy into my carefully managed life.

But I don't.

Because for the first time in a long time, with Light in the kitchen and Tyler laughing from the couch, the house feels a little less heavy.

A little less haunted.

And I’m not ready to let that go.

Not yet.

The lightness in the air instantly evaporates when I see Light reaching for a draw. The same draw I hid the letter.

Moving way to fast, I slam my hand against the draw so he can't open it.

"What the hell? Why can't I go in there?" His eyes squint in confusion.

"Oh, there's nothing in there. What do you need? I'll get it?"

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