Low Over High (The Over Duet #1) by J. A. Derouen

Author:J. A. Derouen [Derouen, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B01N90ZALV
Publisher: J.A. DeRouen
Published: 2016-11-10T00:00:00+00:00

“I’m sorry I brought you over there. It was a stupid thing to do,” I say, with hunched shoulders and my hands stuffed in my pockets.

“Hey, it was fine. I mean, someone needs to take a firehose to the place, and Remy needs some serious lessons in housecleaning, but I don’t care about that,” she says with a smile. I open my mouth to apologize again, but she lays a finger on my lips. She keeps on walking without me, and I have to weave through other pedestrians to catch up to her.

I catch Marlo’s swinging hand in mine, and she undoes me with a simple smile. Simple doesn’t seem like the right word, because there’s nothing simple about Marlo. Pure, maybe. Emotion coming from a place of total honesty—that’s what she gives me. Other than East, I don’t think I’ve ever had that with another person. My relationships are usually tainted with obligation, anger, regret, or some combination of the three.

“We’d be magical, you and me,” she whispers, nuzzling her head into my neck as we make our way back to school. I lean down and kiss her forehead, smelling her hair without being too conspicuous. She’ll think I’m a goddamn creeper if she catches me sniffing her.

Lavender. It’s mixed with the smell of smoke this time, thanks to Evelyn’s keen cooking prowess.

“Magical, huh?”

I have no idea what she’s talking about, but if it’s about the two of us, magical about sums it up. How else can I be transformed from the doomsday asshole of a few weeks ago into the optimistic, carefree guy standing here today?

Magic and Marlo.

“Oh yeah. Your food and my baking? We’d run them all out of town,” she says with a sweep of her hand. “People would line up around the block to eat at our restaurant. Magic.”

I chuckle. “I bet they would.”

We walk in silence for a stretch, and Marlo is deep in thought. I leave her to it, just enjoying being beside her, the silky feel of her palm sliding against mine.

“Do you think it’s strange for Evelyn to offer us her house when she’s not home? I mean, what kind of parent would do that?” she asks, looking baffled by the entire thing.

“A guilty one,” I say, and she looks even more confused. Good for her. I’m glad Marlo doesn’t know the concessions a mother or father will make to assuage their guilt for crimes of the past. It means she has at least one parent with his head on straight. “Whether it be divorce, neglect, poor decisions … the what doesn’t really matter. Sins of the past tend to make for leniency in the future. ‘Sure you can drink a glass of wine with dinner, then maybe you’ll forget I haven’t made it to a baseball game all year.’ Get what I’m saying?”

She releases a long sigh. “Yeah, but it sucks. I was kind of psyched at the prospect of us having a place to hideout, but now it feels more like a consolation prize.

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