Read Skin (McCullough Mountain 2) for Free Online

going to O’Malley’s?”
    “When are we going, you mean? I don’t
know. Not until later. Wanna watch a movie?”
    “Sure.”
    He plopped down on her couch, his long legs
stretching out. He was so damn tall. “You can go on Netflix and
pick something. The remotes in the drawer.”
    He shifted around and grabbed the remote.
“Do you like scary movies?”
    “No.”
    “Oh, come on, Philly, where’s your
adventurous side?”
    “I don’t have one.”
    “Pussy.”
    She stilled and slowly pivoted to face him.
“Did you just call me a pussy?”
    His broad shoulder lifted. “Watch something
scary and prove me wrong.”
    “Don’t be a tit. I’m not going to be bullied
into something I don’t want to do.”
    He laughed. “A tit? A tit? That’s a new one.
Come on, watch a scary movie with me.”
    She grabbed a yogurt and a spoon. “Jesus,
you’re needy. Fine. But when I have nightmares I’m calling your ass
at one in the morning.”
    He grinned and scooted over. After he
selected a film, he settled in and peeled back the lid to his
yogurt. The credits opened and already she was nervous. There was a
doll with no eyes sitting on a windowsill while a little girl swung
on a swing and sang—her voice just the right amount of eerie and
empty. The movie abruptly stopped.
    “Okay, what the fuck am I eating, because
it’s not yogurt?”
    She frowned and swallowed the spoonful in
her mouth. “Yes it is.”
    “No it’s not. I like yogurt. This disgusting
sludge I definitely do not like.”
    “It’s probiotic.”
    “Probi-what?”
    “Biotic. It has microorganisms—”
    “Okay, we’re ordering pizza.” He stood and
dug out his phone. He was dialing before she could get out another
word. He ordered a large plain and demanded her address then hung
up and snatched her yogurt out of her hands.
    “Hey, I was eating that.”
    “Not anymore.” He faced her. “Philly, do you
know what a microorganism is?”
    “Yes. They fight bacteria—”
    “They’re bugs. Little microscopic bug-like
things that belong on a slide in a lab, not in your stomach.”
    “It’s good for you.”
    “So is pizza.”
    “No it’s not.”
    “Sure it is. There’s tomatoes, dairy,
grains…it’s got three of your basic food groups.”
    “I can’t eat pizza. I’m on a—”
    He held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it.
You can and will eat pizza because we’re watching a movie and going
drinking later and you can’t go drinking on an empty stomach. So
suck it up. I’m not making you eat the whole pie. Just have a slice
or two, but I need real food, not bug-gurt.”
    Pizza did sound delicious. She hadn’t had
any in months. Maybe just a slice. That was it. She’d have one
slice and that would be her dinner.
    Argument over, Finnegan picked up the
remote, and started the movie. Mallory settled into the corner of
the couch and, while the movie drew her attention, the fact that
there was a six-foot man in her home distracted her more.
    She’d grown up with guy friends. It wasn’t a
novel experience being around men. But there was something
inherently different about being there with Finnegan, on her couch,
in her home, as the sun slowly faded into golden shadows filtered
through the curtains, playing over his tanned skin and yummy,
supermodel stubble. She should turn on a lamp.
    While her head remained turned to the screen
where a mother screamed and a father stalked a house with a gun,
her gaze kept drifting to the right. Her mind was very conscious of
her stiff posture. Knowing they were just friends was not enough to
let her fully exhale and slouch. Years of habitually sucking in
around anything with a penis weren’t going to be rewritten simply
because one guy declared a platonic truce.
    When someone banged on the door she jumped.
Finnegan paused the movie on a startling frame of a little girl
going through some sort of exorcism and stood to get the pizza. He
had the delivery guy tipped and on his way before she could