Read Trouble from the Start for Free Online Page B

There was a bathroom, but no kitchen.
    â€œI doubt you came to visit, so why are you here?” he asked.
    â€œIt’s time for supper.”
    â€œI’m not hungry.” He started to close the door in my face. I stuck my foot out, getting a bruised toe in the process, but at least I stopped the door from closing all the way.
    â€œYeah, that’s not happening,” I said. “People around here are expected to show up for meals.”
    â€œI already ate.” He walked into the room, and since the door remained partway open, I took it as an invitation and wandered in.
    Fletcher dropped down on the couch, put his booted feet on the short table in front of him, and stared at a baseball game on the TV.
    â€œMy mom doesn’t like shoes on furniture,” I told him.
    He just glared harder at the TV, like maybe he thought he could escape into it or something. I was familiar with the tactic. Also knew it never worked. On the table were the empty wrapper from a cream-filled sponge cake, a wadded chip bag, and a package that had once contained salted peanuts. The kind of stuff you picked up from a convenience store.
    â€œThis”—I waved my hand over the table—“was your supper?”
    â€œThat’s some sleuthing there, Veronica Mars.”
    I came to stand before him, blocking his view of the TV. I knew expressions could be described as storm-clouded. His looked like he was on the verge of erupting into a category-five hurricane. I really didn’t care. “My name is Avery. I realize it might be too difficult for you to remember or maybe pronounce, but I’d appreciate it if you’d stop with all the condescending nicknames.”
    His lips twitched; the storm passed. “Not condescending. I think Veronica Mars is hot.”
    Was he saying that he thought I was hot? No way, but suddenly I was aware of my face growing warm. I hated that I was probably blushing. Reaching down, I shovedhis feet off the table, fought not to cringe at the scratch I’d made. “Look, I didn’t want to come get you any more than you wanted to get got, but they expect you at dinner. Let’s go.”
    He studied me like I’d just landed from another planet. His scrutiny made me want to squirm. I didn’t know why I was fighting so hard to get him down to supper. If he didn’t come with me, Dad would come get him. But for some reason, I didn’t want to lose this battle. “Trust me,” I said. “It’s easier just to do what they expect.”
    â€œEasier isn’t always the right choice,” he said.
    I didn’t want to discuss philosophy. “In this case it is, but have it your way. I’ll leave the door open on my way out since my dad will be here five minutes after I leave.”
    I headed for the door.
    â€œWhat did you tell Jones?” he asked.
    That stopped me in my tracks. Jones? Slowly I turned. “You mean Kendall?”
    â€œI saw you leave with her. I figured you couldn’t wait to start spreading the word that I’m here.”
    I wanted to tell him that my world didn’t revolve around him, but this afternoon it had. “She’s my best friend. She spends a lot of time here.” Or she did before she started dating Jeremy. “I just didn’t want her to be surprised if she ran into you. I’m not telling anyone else.”
    â€œWhy?”
    I blinked. “Why what?”
    â€œWhy aren’t you Twittering or Facebooking that I’m here?”
    I shrugged. “It’s nobody’s business.”
    He seemed surprised by my answer, seemed to consider it.
    â€œLook, I’m not judging you,” I assured him.
    I watched him unfold that long, lean body of his from the couch in one smooth movement that made my heart pound against my ribs.
    â€œYou’re either a saint or a liar,” he said as he sauntered over.
    â€œI’m not a liar.”
    â€œToo bad. Liars