Read Crazy Little Thing for Free Online Page B

trembled faster and a tear popped from one eye. “I’m sorry, Aunt Dody.”
    She pulled him close. “Oh, nonsense, darling. It’s not your fault. It was just an accident.” Jasper continued patting at her head with the towel. “Mom, I think you might need stitches. This is kind of deep.”
    Stitches? Now I felt even worse! Here she had invited us into her home, welcomed us like prodigal children, and all because of that, she’d split her fool head open.
    “Let’s take you to the med center.” Jasper moved to pull her upright, but she resisted.
    “Absolutely not. It’s Friday night. I have a poker date with the girls, and I have to win my six dollars back from Anita Parker, so you’re not dragging me to some crowded emergency room.”
    “Stop being stubborn,” Jasper said. “I’ve cut myself enough times to know when somebody needs stitches. We are going to the med center.”
    She shook her head, flinging a droplet of blood onto the carpet.
    I looked away. I would make a terrible vampire.
    “No, we’re not,” she said. “But you can get Dr. Pullman, if you want.”
    Dr. Pullman lived a few houses away. Dody consulted him whenever someone in her family ran a high fever, had a mysterious rash, or accidentally stuck something up their nose.
    “What’s his phone number?” Jasper asked.
    Dody’s head lolled back, her eyes clouding over. “My goodness, would you look at those cobwebs on this ceiling? Sadie, I’m surprised you missed those.”
    Jasper looked at me. “Would you run down there and get him? We may end up in the med center anyway, but maybe he can at least take a look at her.”
    I nodded, hopping up on shaky legs. I’d gladly go for Dr. Pullman, if only to escape this moment. Dody was white as a ghost and I was getting queasier by the second.
    I ran down the street and a few minutes later found myself standing on Dr. Pullman’s expensively bricked front porch. Ornate ceramic pots sat on either side of the wide wooden door, but in contrast to the elaborate landscaping, the flowers in them were shriveled and dead. I rang the bell, noticing then the flecks of blood on my shirt. Hopefully Dr. Pullman would remember me from summers past and not think I was some homicidal maniac. I smoothed out my wrinkled shorts and quickly redid my ponytail, as if that minor primping would make a difference.
    A fluffy gray cat sauntered up, giving me an imperious once-over.
    “Hi, kitty.”
    She was disdainful in the way only a cat can be. I was beneath her contempt.
    “Bitch,” I muttered, attempting to exert my human superiority.
    As the word left my mouth and hung suspended in the air, the door opened and there, standing before me, was none other than Running Man!
    My eyes widened. I suspect my mouth dropped open too. I must have looked like a skeptical eight-year-old finding Santa unloading presents under my Christmas tree. Wow, ogling this guy from Dody’s deck had not done him justice. He was much taller up close, and his hair wasn’t nearly as dark as I thought. But I’d been right about the muscles. They were everywhere.
    My cheeks went hot and I just stood there.
    He looked at me expectantly, pleasantly, until he noticed my bloodstained shirt.
    “Are you all right? May I help you?”
    I started giggling hysterically. I couldn’t help it. I was exhausted and stressed out. And an idiot. I wiped my hand across my shirt. “Um, I’m fine. I’m looking for Dr. Pullman’s house.” I leaned back to check the number posted above the door.
    The cat sashayed inside like a saloon girl, pointing her ass right at me as if to say, “Who is superior now?”
    Running Man squinted. “Uh, this is Dr. Pullman’s house, but I’m afraid he’s not in residence.”
    “What?”
    Wait a second.
    Seriously?
    Did he have an accent?
    Unfair!
    And dimples? When he wasn’t even smiling? An accent and dimples? That put him straight into Panty Melting territory. (Panty Melter: an exceedingly rare species of man