Page 3 of Reckless Hearts

Most people don’t hold my attention long, but Saskia always does. Everyone else seems dull in comparison, the conversations tepid and beige.

I skirt around the edge of the crowd in the living room, nodding at people, smiling but avoiding being pulled into any of the conversations.

I make my way through the hallway and into the kitchen. It’s a little quieter here, but people are still clustered around the breakfast bar, where Saskia has laid out an assortment of drinks and snacks.

A guy I don’t know is standing at the counter with his back to me, pouring himself a glass of water. I can’t help my eyes lingering on his slim build under his T-shirt, the way his jeans mold to his butt. A mop of curly dark hair tops him off. He’s cute. Well, this side of him is, anyway.

He turns, and I see his face.

Recognition hits me like he’s thrown his water at me.

Shit, it’s Little Kleggs.

I’ve just been ogling Saskia’s little brother.

It’s still a shock every time I realize he’s all grown up now. For most of the time I’ve known him, he’s been a weedy high school student only coming up to my shoulders. But he had a late growth spurt last year and filled out enough to take him from scrawny into a look I’d now describe as nerdy hot. I’d noticed that the other day when I stumbled upon him on a date in the university cafeteria.

The fact he’d been on a date with a guy wasn’t surprising. Little Kleggs has pretty much choked on his own tongue every time he’s seen me for the past four years, ever since Saskia and I became friends.

I’d met Seb the first time Saskia invited me to her house. I was new, having been sent to boarding school for my last year of high school.

The fact my father had chosen a boarding school in Dunedin, as far away from Wellington as you could get, said almost everything you needed to know about our father-son relationship.

About forty percent of the school was day students who lived locally, and Saskia was one of them. She was the head girl, the person our whole year’s social life revolved around.

We’d instantly gravitated to each other from the moment we met in a supervised study period. Within half an hour, we’d charmed our teacher into letting us out on the pretense Saskia would give me a tour of the school. Instead, we’d gone to McDonald’s, where we’d spent the afternoon bonding over our mutual ability to talk our way into getting what we wanted.

When I’d first visited her house, I’d expected the mansion with the pool and tennis court because Saskia gave out rich-girl vibes as easily as breathing.

I hadn’t expected her mother to bring us fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies by the pool or her father to join us and start joking around. It was obvious Saskia’s parents liked her, and she liked them right back.

Which caused a pang deep inside me.

I’d had to move away, going into the house on the pretense of getting a glass of water just to take a break from the perfect happy-family sitcom playing out in front of me.

When I’d gotten inside, a skinny teenager had stood at the counter pouring himself a bowl of cereal.

“Hey there,” I said.

The guy looked up, saw me, then dropped the box of cereal he was holding. Froot Loops fell to the floor, rolling along in all directions, making a desperate dash for freedom.

I hid a smile.

“Let me help clean that up,” I said.

“It’s okay.” The guy’s voice rose into a squeak and his face flooded with color.

“It’s my fault. I didn’t mean to scare you,” I said.

I’d leaned down to help clean up the mess. At the same time, he’d leaned down as well, so my hand brushed the top of his.

He jumped back like he’d been burned.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It’s fine. I try to turn off the electric current in my skin, but sometimes it malfunctions. I didn’t mean to shock you.”

He’d blushed some more, and I’d stared in fascination. I hadn’t known someone’s cheeks could actually turn that shade of red.