Home > Caught Up in Her (Caught Up In Love 0.5)(3)

Caught Up in Her (Caught Up In Love 0.5)(3)
Author: Lauren Blakely

“So she’s a star watcher,” Kat said, stretching her legs out on the lounge chair on the deck.

Look away. Look in her eyes, not at her legs. “She totally has stars in her eyes.”

“Is she an actress?”

I shook my head. “No. She’s actually an amazing scientist.”

“What is she? Like a researcher?”

“She’s actually only fifteen,” I said, quickly explaining myself. “She just started high school. But she’s super focused, and good at school.” What the hell? I was sitting here babbling about my kid sister with the most beautiful girl I’d ever met? I wanted to kick myself in the forehead. “I think she already knows she wants to be a doctor.”

“So you’re twenty-three and she’s fifteen,” Kat said, talking like a detective assembling clues.

“Go ahead. Say it.”

She laughed. “Okay, let’s just call a spade a space. She’s an oops baby right?”

“She has to be, don’t you think?” I said as if it were the most scandalous thing in the world.

“Eight years is a lot. Nate and I are only five years apart.”

“Does that make you an oops baby?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it because I’m pretty sure my parents never had sex. Parents just shouldn’t do that. Have sex,” she said, slowing down to punctuate that word, and it was a straight shot to my bloodstream. The way she said it, that word traveled through me, and I sure as hell wasn’t thinking about parents doing it. Not in the least. I’d been trying to shift gears to safe subjects. But with one joke, and then one word, I was right back in her orbit. Hearing it on her pretty lips was yet another step in making me forget all the reasons why I should stay away from her.

Then I reminded myself. There was not going to be any sex, not at all. There would absolutely positively not be any sex. I had control. I had restraint. I wasn’t going to jump Nate’s sister.

But a kiss? My brain started whirring with possibility.

After Nate returned, Kat yawned and passed on the Diet Coke. “I better go to sleep. Since I’ve got the Mystic Landing morning shift and all. You guys can stay out here and have your guy talk without me. No one needs the little sister around.”

I was about to open my mouth to protest and say I did, I definitely did, but she was already gone.

* * *

A little while later, Nate and I went back into the house.

“I’m beat,” he said, running his hand through his dark hair, then retreated to his room. The sound of his door shutting echoed through the house, and the hall was strangely quiet for a few seconds as I headed to the guest bedroom, wondering if Kat was asleep. Look, I wasn’t thinking of slinking into her bedroom. It was the first night I was in her house. Even if it was the fiftieth night I wouldn’t do that. Sneaking into her bedroom would be the height of tacky.

But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy when I bumped into her in the hall.

She wore loose shorts and a gray tank top with a pink Hello Kitty across the chest, and I wasn’t checking out the illustration so much as I was lingering on what it covered up. More than I should. When I realized what I was doing – staring at her br**sts, at their lush curves, and the barest bit of skin showing – I snapped my gaze up. Then I was looking her in the eyes, those gorgeous brown eyes, so pure and such a rich shade.

It was as if I had no choice in the matter. The wagons were circling me, and I was nearly toppled.

She was breaking down all my defenses and she didn’t even know it. Everything about her was alluring, down to the fact that she wore a cartoon cat to bed. It was cute, it was retro, it was girly all at once. It also reminded me of my own favorite comic.

“You like Hello Kitty?”

“Uh, yeah,” she said, as if she were thrown off by my question.

“That’s really cute,” I said, trying to hold back a smile.


“Yeah. Definitely. Hello Kitty is totally adorable.”

“Wow. Nate never told me his best friend was such a huge fan of cartoon cats,” she said playfully.

“I’m personally a bigger fan of Bucky from the comic Get Fuzzy.”

“I love that crazy Siamese,” she said, and I wanted to ask her out right then and there. She liked Office Space, she knew the characters in my favorite comic strip, and she was completely unaware of her effect on me.

“I defy anyone who doesn’t find cats amusing to read that comic.”

“That is an awesome challenge. Let’s make posters and start a campaign. I’ll even break out my Get Fuzzy tee-shirt when we start planning a march to the capital,” she said, smiling brightly again, easily picking up the back and forth vibe of our late-night chatter in the hallway. Maybe that’s why I said the next thing. Because I wanted her to know. I wanted her to have an inkling that she was already working her way into my heart.

“Generally speaking, I’m good with all cartoon cats,” I said, then paused, taking a beat before I said the next thing. “Especially when cute girls wear them.”

Her lips quirked up briefly, and before I did what I truly wanted to do – kiss her, ask her out, tell her that even though I’d only known her for twelve hours, was there a chance she was feeling some kind of spark too – I swiveled around and walked off.

I wanted to do all of those things.

So much. Too much.

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