Kitten stands in the middle of my bedroom and stares at my bed, wide-eyed. "Why are we here?"

I shrug. "I'm gonna show you my boy. Haven't I told you it's pierced?"

The look on her face is priceless. She stumbles back, nearly colliding with my dresser as she tries to get away from me.

I shake with laughter and tell Kitten, "Okay, I'm not lying, but we don't have that kind of relationship yet. Showing the boy requires trust."

Kitten blushes and looks at her feet. "You're an ass, O'Brien," she huffs.

"I've been called worse. So, you're here because I wanted us to watch a movie together." I point to the huge TV on my bedroom wall. "It's late, and unless you wanna see the boy, there aren't many entertainment options left."

Kitten glances around as if she's just taken notice of her surroundings. Then she shrugs. "Okay."

I kick off my shoes and flop down on my bed. "Come here. The bed's big, and I don't bite. Okay, I do, but after some time."

With an eye-roll, Kitten perches on the edge of the bed and folds her hands on her knees. Any other chick would've climbed on top of me by now.

"Come on," I say. "There's enough space for us both. I don't touch girls against their will, Kitten. You're safe with me unless you don't wanna be."

The corners of Kitten's mouth lift, but she'd never openly laugh at something I say. She's too afraid to show what she thinks and feels. However, she does as told. The mattress barely dips under her weight as she lies down beside me, resting her head against a throw pillow. In a second, Kitten frowns and shifts on the bed. My eyes flare because she's holding a bottle of pills. They must've fallen out of my bag earlier.

"What are these?" Kitten asks, twirling the bottle.

"They're nothing." I snatch the pills from her and toss the bottle in my nightstand drawer. It lands on the condoms, and I flinch at the irony — my life as of late in a nutshell.

Kitten shrugs. "Whatever. Let's watch a movie; just don't put any porn on."

I chuckle. "Nah, I'd rather watch it alone. You're too judgmental to handle it."

"And you're a jerk."

"Accurate, Kitten."

"But you're not in a gang, and you don't have a gun."

"Spot on, Princess. Sorry for ruining your fantasy of a hot mafia dude whisking you away. I'm not into any of the illegal shit. Don't like guns, either."

"Now you're suddenly a good boy like Gavin."

"Gavin has nothing good about him. Sometimes the worst kind of shit is hiding in the most beautiful package. It's easy to fool a naïve girl like you."

"I'm not naïve."

"And I'm a virgin."

The only light comes from the lamp on my nightstand, but the blush coating Kitten's cheeks is visible even in the dimly lit room. I'm trying to be nice to her. I guess I can't.

"I'm sorry," I say. "Not for not being a virgin, cause you know, the boy needs what it needs."

Kitten smirks. "I'm sure it does."

This time, I grin and make an effort not to push it for now. She's getting used to me and my jokes. For starters, she's still here. She could've run away as soon as we finished dinner.

"So," I grab the remote and sink further into the pillows, "what movies do you like?"

Kitten shrugs. "Whatever you choose."

Laughing, I rake my fingers through my hair. "Nah, Princess. If I choose, you'll be snoring in no time. Is it so hard to tell me what your favorites are? I promise not to laugh."

Kitten studies the posters on my wall. It looks like she'd rather do that than answer my question.

"Leah?"

"I don't have favorites, O'Brien. Happy now? We don't have a TV. I had one years back when Mom had a better job, and we rented a place that wasn't falling apart. Now, I'm locked in my room pretty much all the time. I only see something different when I'm at Gavin's, but we're always somewhere his parents can see us, and he's not into movie watching."

My heart clutches. What kind of life is that? Bafflement and anger swirl in my gut. I frown and scratch the back of my head. "Okay. Well, we can choose something random from Jimmy's collection of favorites. Just look at the titles and pick up the one you like the most."

I click on the folder with Jim's name, hoping the dude didn't put his collection of porn there. Otherwise, Kitten might escape my room through the window, ladder, or no ladder.

Luckily, the selection is more than decent. My bro has excellent taste in pretty much everything. In porn too, but that's a movie for another day. I scroll through the list. "The Notebook" and "Titanic" are there, too. Maybe I should take my words about Jim's good taste in movies back.

Kitten stops me. "This one."

"City of Angels?"

She gives me a shy nod. I'm secretly pleased with her selection — it's not the worst she could've chosen. The plot's interesting, and "Iris" is a great song, which kinda speaks to me. My finger hovers over the play button on the remote. "Wanna have some popcorn?"

Kitten shrugs. I jump off the bed without looking at her. If she tells me she's never tried popcorn, I'll probably pay Fer a midnight visit and give him a friendly pat on the back with the bat Pops keeps in the garage fuck knows for what. None of us have ever played baseball.

In the kitchen, I rummage in the cabinets and find a bag of popcorn to microwave. As I'm filling a bowl with the snack, the front door opens, and Pops strides in, halting when he sees me.

"Hey, Pops," I say.

"Watching a movie?" Pops asks, smirking.

I nod. "You?"

Pops comes up to me and grabs a handful from the bowl, stuffing the popcorn into his mouth. "Went out for a bit."

He shaved, and although he has his leather jacket on, he's wearing slacks instead of jeans. It's serious enough to grill him, but Kitten's waiting.

"Okay, see ya," I say and rush upstairs.

Laughter spouts from Pops' mouth. "Say hi to the girl. Use protection, little fucker, and make sure I don't hear you."

"Will do," I reply.

Kitten sits up in bed as soon as I enter the room. "You were gone forever!"

I smirk. "Missed me, Princess?"

She rolls her eyes, and her cheeks redden. However, I keep my mouth shut for once. I place the bowl between us, and the movie plays. We eat and watch it in silence. Now and then, I throw glances at Kitten, who seems enthralled by what's happening on the screen.

Her fascination with the little things amazes me. I'm used to the girls who have seen and done it all, and Kitten's beyond innocent. She can deny it as many times as she wants, but she is naïve. Despite that, she has more of an edge to her than I thought at the beginning. It's curious. It's a challenge.

***

"O'Brien! Wake up!"

Someone's trying to shake me awake. They fail. I'm a heavy sleeper; it takes more than yanking on my arm for me to wake up.

"Brian!"

The voice grows more desperate. I groan, then frown when I see Kitten's face an inch from mine.

"I need to go home," she whisper-yells. "It's already morning. If my mother sees I'm not there— "

I yawn. "Relax. Stay for breakfast, at least."

"I have school."

"Of course," I grumble, sitting on the bed. "Did we fall asleep?"

Kitten nods. "But we finished watching the movie."

I'd kill for another hour of sleep. I stretch, follow Kitten downstairs, and accompany her to her house. She thanks me and climbs the ladder to her room, giving me a small wave from her window.

I drag my feet home. When I enter the kitchen, Pops is making coffee. "Morning, little fucker. Bill's stopping by the garage before work," he says. "Can you tell him what's wrong with his bike? I need to run some errands first."

"No problem," I say. I fixed it; it's nothing new. "I'll grab my coffee and go."

I take my mug full of steaming coffee and light a cigarette as I walk to the garage. Unable to resist it, I throw a glance at Kitten's house. Ferdinand parked his car next to it. He must've decided to take her to school for once. I should be happy he stopped being a dick, but seeing him there makes me clench my jaw and grit my teeth.

Bill enters the garage an hour later. "Brian boy, any good news for this old man?"

I chuckle. "Sure thing, Billy boy."

Bill lets out a deep belly laugh. He's pushing sixty, but the dude's funny and laid back. "So, what's up with my sweetheart?"

Pointing to his bike, I tell him, "Your sweetheart's owner needs to clean her more often. She was full of shit, and the engine sounded funny because of that. Debris collects in there, and if you don't clean her, I'll be of no help. Apart from cleaning, I did oil and filter change and replaced the brake fluid. It should ride much better now."

Bill slaps my back. "Thanks, boy. How much do I owe you?"

"You need to ask Pops. He'll be here soon. If you don't want to wait, stop by whenever you want. There's no rush."

I recheck Bill's bike to make sure I haven't forgotten anything.

"So, big cities aren't your thing?" the guy asks. "We didn't think you'd be back in this forgotten place."

"This place's as good as any other."

Bill tuts, "Not for a smart guy like you, Brian. You could do whatever you want. If it's because of your old man, he'll manage. Axel knows his shit, but you can go even farther."

I stare at my hands. They need washing now, but I don't mind getting them dirty. I'd rather do that than rot in a place I don't belong, doing something I hate.

"Think about it," Bill says, putting his heavy hand on my shoulder.

He leaves shortly after, and Mac enters the garage. "'Sup," he says and sits on a bench next to the shelves full of tools.

"Not much," I say, wiping my hands on a rag. "Working while waiting for Pops. You?"

"Dropped Annie off at school and decided to see you."

Mac's a busy guy. If he stopped by the garage in the morning, some shit's going on.

"Spill it," I say, tossing him a bottle of water from the cooler and grabbing another one for me.

Mac sighs. "It's about Annie."

"What's up with her?"

Mac looks at the bottle in his hands, and then his eyes are on mine. "Annie doesn't know anything about it, but I've been setting aside some money. I want her to study. She's almost done with high school, but then what? I don't want her to be another girl who didn't get the chance to leave this town and experience things. She has more options than staying here. She's smart, but what that fucker did to her screwed her. Now that she's bounced back, I wanna talk to her about what she'd like to do. I'll follow her anywhere."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to tell you. By the way, what happened last night? Bella was waiting for you to come back to The Temple."

"I took Leah home. Gavin the douche was here, too."

Mac raises his pierced eyebrow. "Went to cry to her momma?"

"Pretty much."

"And?"

I shrug. "Nothing. He whined; she believed him instead of her daughter. But the thing is, Leah's mother needs money. The chick's starving."

Mac looks at me for a moment. He knows I'm not done talking yet.

Taking a lungful of air, I say, "I'm gonna ask Pops if he needs help at the garage. There's always paperwork and stuff. Maybe we could give Leah's mother a job."