Chapter 2

My hands start shaking like crazy, and I have to grip the bowl and spoon to hide it. I flicker up and take him in slowly, warily, as if he is of no real interest to me. The broad, strong shape of a teen, maybe late teens. He isn’t ugly. He’s kind of cute; okay, perhaps more than cute, except he has Giovanni’s nose, which is a shame because it’s a bit odd at the bridge. I like his hair… it’s spiky and nice in color, like sand almost, although variations of dry and wet, and a nice cut showcases a strong neck and squarish jawline. He seems to spend time styling it too, which I guess I like.

I think men who care about their appearance are attractive, seeing as boys and men I knew never did. He has nice taste in clothes anyway; jeans, sneakers, and a tight grey t-shirt with some fighting club or something on the front, which highlights the fact he works out. Casual, good-looking, and relaxed; a dangerous combo for most young girls but not me. I have no desire to know this Romeo, and I can tell it is exactly what he is. He looks a little bit like his brother, yet not, and I decide I don’t like him. He is too good-looking to be a nice guy and poses nothing but a threat to me.

“Hi,” I respond flatly and look back at what I’m doing. Not interested. He seems too cocky, too chatty, too smiley. Boring and self-absorbed. He will be like every other guy on the planet who has good genes and knows he’s hot.

“You’re a chatty one, aren’t you?” he chuckles, and it makes me squirm because it’s nice in a completely awful way. Deep, husky, Jake-like, I glare at him for insulting me.

Ughhh.

I think he might be an asshole now that I think of it. I mean, who uses lines like ‘How you doing?’ anyway. Pretty sure it’s a lame veiled attempt at saying, ‘want a date?’. Which I don’t. He is way too old for me. I’m not even fifteen yet, and he looks… well, not fifteen. Maybe eighteen. I don’t know. He has a youthful look, but then again, there’s something older in his eyes.

“Shhh, leave her be. Sophie is fine once she warms to you. Stop teasing her.” Sylvana scolds him and moves towards the sink to fill the coffee pot for her newest arrival, which means he is staying. Everyone in these families seems to reach for coffee pots at every opportunity, which is weird. I’m not too fond of the smell of the stuff. It makes me think of things I don’t want to. I bite down sudden nausea that hits me in the gut with the realization that Romeo is staying and the memories coffee incites.

I jump in fright when he appears at the table in front of me, ripping my head back to the present, reaching in to dip his hand in what I’m mixing, and I drop the bowl and spoon and jump back as though he’s scolded me. Even though he didn’t touch me, my heart lurches to my mouth in knee-jerk fear. He doesn’t react, hand still in the bowl, eyes come to me, and his face straightens. A slight frown as he slowly draws away and smiles softly, movements extremely controlled like he senses he shouldn’t have done that.

It does nothing to calm me, though, and I’m tense all over as I watch him warily. My body is poised to run if he tries to get any closer. My heart races as embarrassment flows over me, and I look away, moving back to grab the spoon at speed and die of shame that I reacted so noticeably. I can’t help it. I hate people coming too close, especially men, and that’s what he is, even though he’s young.

He’s a threat. He’s male and obviously a guy who can pull girls easily with a smile and a wink. Just not me, never me. I inhale deeply, swallow hard, regaining outward control while my insides shudder, and try to return to that silent, moody aura I had a second ago.

“Tastes good… you must have the magic touch.” He says it softly, but I notice he’s moved back to give me room, and I relax a tiny mite that he has given me my breathing space back. I don’t answer, but I stare at the bowl and mix some more, unsure how to respond. He has me flighty and nervous. Even my toes tremble with a cold wave of fear coursing through my body.

“She has if she only had a softer touch and more patience.” Sylvana laughs and comes to remove the bowl from me swiftly, appearing by my side for a second as she hands me another instead that is filled with a new mixture and a fresh spoon. “You can massacre this one if you like.” She giggles beautifully, warming my ice and reminding me that her presence means safety, no matter who else is here. She would never let anything happen to me.

I glance his way as she moves and catch him looking at me, sort of up and down, as though he’s trying to suss me out, and I automatically glare at him defensively, hating his probing. He will meet his match if he’s looking for an easy target. I’m not some defenseless little kid who would let some teen Romeo have a go. If I have to, I will burn his pretty face off or stab him with this wooden spoon. I have no interest in boys, men, or those in between like him.

He smiles at me, and I glare harder, warning him off. No point leading these types on and giving him the wrong idea about what he will get from me. I already met his kind at school, the first week here, and they soon learned that Sophie bites hard. He picks up an apple from the fruit bowl and leans against the kitchen counter, getting comfy as his mom makes fresh coffee and dollops my batter into cake pans simultaneously. His eyes leave me when he catches my eye and wanders around the room as he takes a bite and crunches noisily.

Who even eats that loud? Weirdo.

“You redecorated?” He says to her, and I watch that profile for a second.

Okay, he’s not ugly in any way, even with a weird nose… he’s actually kind of cute for a guy, but he’s a jackass, so what does it matter?