Woo hoo! :D

***

Gorgeous went out like a light after I hit him. I figured I would give the guy a break before I called the police, and at least prevent him from getting run over by a fellow rich-boy's car. If anything, I wanted to be the one that ran him over with a car after he scared me like that.

If any of you have ever lifted someone at dead weight, especially a guy, you understand my struggle of trying to get Gorgeous onto the grass and out of the middle of the road.

I'm not a serial killer, I swear. I used to do Hot Yoga and most of the cocky guys that thought the class would be easy, and showed up to a total of one class, fainted within the first twenty minutes. I was the only girl in the class that was actually strong enough to dead lift twice my own weight.

Looking up and down the streets cautiously, I grabbed Gorgeous by upper arms and started to haul him onto the sidewalk, then rolled him like I was spreading out cookie dough onto the cushiony emerald grass of a neighbor that I prayed wasn't looking out their window in horror.

I stood back and assessed my "situation."The fact that he had no shirt on, even though it was very hot and it was acceptable for men to wear no shirt--even though they clearly just have flatter breasts than women and it makes no sense, screamed arrogance, and a possible goal for a full ride into a IV League, partying college, where he can meet a lot of hot chicks.

I snorted. "Typical man."

Whoever he was, I had concluded that he was definitely a well-trained, aggressive athlete who maybe had some daddy issues. Not only am I good at reading people, but I'm very observant. So when Gorgeous had collapsed onto the road after my foot collided with his pretty nose, I had seen there were already scrapes and cuts along his knees, as well as grass stains. Most likely, he's a quarterback of the football team who was dating the head cheerleader-- a stuck up bitch with bleach blonde hair and who has a manicure appointmemt every day.

Call me crazy, but that sounded about right.

Curious, I crouched down and poked at his butt, which was perfectly shaped for a guy. Wow. That's one rock-hard tush. Definitely gets all the ladies.

Watching Gorgeous unconscious was definitely an educational and worthy of a Creepy Award, but it was also very stupid, once realized he was face down in the grass, suffocating.

"Shoot!" I quickly rolled Blondie over on his side. Bringing my face close to his and fingering his pulse, I put my ear to his mouth and sighed when I heard him softly breath. Good, the arrogant caveman that had been checking out my butt minutes before wasn't dead.

But his nose was profusely bleeding.

Double shoot!

I'm not usually one to admit my mistakes, but kicking the guy in the face might have been a little over the top. In fact, I might have even felt sorry for the guy, who had inappropriately threw a--what appeared to be, dirty pick-up line, after following me for who knows how long up the street. I mean, he didn't know that I was a black belt and had a rape whistle called "The Ear Blower 2000". Had he known all of that, I bet he would have thought twice about sneaking up on me like that when I was deep in thought.

There was only one solution here, or at least from what I could tell, and that was to scream really loud in his ear and wake him up before someone else saw.

So I did just that. It was just unfortunate that it happened right as the timed sprinklers in the yard we were in went off, and a neighborhood watchman came strolling by in his car. And when I say the sprinkler system went on, I mean it felt like it was down pouring, there were so many dang sprinklers on that rich person's lawn.

"Miss," the police officer began, rolling down his windows all the way and taking off his dark aviators. He sported a very thick, very hairy mustache that he clearly adored more than anything. Even donuts. It was even more distracting than Bernard's mustache....

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to suddenly pretend to be unconscious like Gorgeous, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Pretending that I was smoothing out the grass with my hand and was cut by something, I lifted my head back up towards the watchman, and as if I hadn't even heard or seen him I threw the officer my best, plastic "I Did Absolutely Nothing Wrong When Did This Unconcience Guy Get Here?" smile.

"Oh, hi!" I said, my cheek muscles burning from how wide my smile was getting. I tried to tone down my niceness a couple of notches, but ended up just looking really constipated. "How are you? It's such a beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Is he unconscious?" Officer Mustache nodded to Gorgeous on the ground, and on que, Gorgeous let out a low, deep moan that might have made me blush a little.

I said might.

"Nooooo, just taking a....a nap! Yeah, just a quick little snooze. You know how teenage boys are, always wearing themselves out."

"What were you doing? Running?"

"And other things," I mumbled off, shifting my eyes uneasily and wiping water off of my face from the unrelenting sprinkler system. "He's my boyfriend!" Now everything before that sounds sexual, nice going, Pepper.

Officer Mustache cleared his throat uncomfortably, then opened his car door.

"Wake up, wake up!" I gave Gorgeous' arm a hard shove and he launched upwards, startled. If I had known it was that easy to wake him up, I would have done it a lot sooner.

Gorgeous blinked many times, taking in his surroundings as if he had no idea where he was, sat up, leaned forward, and squeezed his nose with a low growl.

"He has nosebleeds!" I shouted a little too loudly, biting down on my lip. Talk about digging myself deeper into debt with Gorgeous, if he really did go along with all of this. "Really, really bad nosebleeds! Stand back! Don't get too close, he's spraying out like a fire hydrant!"

Officer Mustache stood right out of reach of the sprinkler system, his hand on his hips. "What's really going on here? Do I have to call your parents?"

Gorgeous looked up at Officer Mustache, utterly confused.

It was then that I was praying to every god that existed that this police officer was one of those dumb cops that was in all of the cliché movies, that ate one-to-many donuts, and never did his job right.

"There's no need. My boyfriend gets nosebleeds because of his...his condition! Yeah, that's right! That dang condition," I said, giving Gorgeous a pat on the shoulder and a look that read, "Play along or I'll beat you with a stick!"

"Condition..." Officer Mustache said, deep in thought. "Oh! My cousin Fred has a condition like that. He bleeds really bad. One time we took Fred hunting, and he accidently got shot in the leg by my brother Bob, who thought Fred was a deer because he didn't have his glasses on. Boy, was cousin Fred a bleeder." He then pouted a little, as if he was about to cry. "He died in a beetle accident."

"I'm so sorry. Drunk driver?"

Officer Mustache took out a hanky and wiped under his nose. "No, not the car. The bug. He was a collector...and...well, you know. Thought it was a beetle, really was a snake."

Yes! Dumb cop! Yes!!!

Gorgeous gave me a wide-eyed look, clearly remembering my foot colliding with my face. His Caribbean Blue eyes narrowed and way too slowly took in my soaked body, before he slung an arm around my shoulders and pulled me a little too tightly against his burning hot chest. "I don't get nosebleeds," Gorgeous said with his deep, smooth voice. "She's a compulsive liar, and she kicked me in the face."

Fudgingfudge-fudgefudgidy-fudge!!

Looking at Gorgeous' neck, I debated ripping out his jugular and throwing it across the street with my teeth like in all the vampire movies. The watchman gave me a long, terrifying look. My mouth popped open to say something, when Gorgeous cut in once more with,

"But I love her anyways." He looked at me with dripping, revolting, completely fake adoration, his sculpted jaw caked in blood and utterly disgusting. For a second, I thought he was going to go in and kiss me, just to mess with me. I tried to hold back my disgust, but we both know how hard it is for me to keep my yap shut. "My little shnookums was teaching me karate and....well, I forgot to block."

He squeezed me even tighter against his body. I really, really tried not to sniff. If you expected me to say that he smelled like cologne and man-sweat, you are sorely mistaken. Just man-sweat. Not the stinky kind, thank god.

Shocked, I started to nod dumbly. "Yeah, yeah! He forgot to block."

"I see." Officer Mustache blew his nose for a solid three minutes into his hanky. "You guys are both on private property, you know. I should write you up and call your parents."

Gorgeous and I looked at each other.

"Sir, wait. My... boyfriend kind of looks like a zombie right now. He's starting to look straight out of Walking Dead. We wouldn't want anyone panicking--"

"I love that show!" Officer Mustache said.

I could feel Gorgeous still staring at me, most likely in awe that I was so good at distracting people. I might really hate people, but I'm damn good at talking to them and getting them interested. I get that from my mom and dad.

"I love that show, too. Anyways, do you have an extra hanky, officer?" I asked sweetly, fluttering my lashes.

"Oh, yeah! Sure!" Officer Mustache beamed, stuck his hand deep into his pocket and fished out a wrinkly looking hanky. "You have a nice day, now."

"You too!" I said brightly.

Realizing the officer had forgotten about writing us up, Gorgeous jumped in with, "Uh, drive safely."

Officer Mustache turned to leave, then turned back around. "Wait...I was about to do something..."

"Your shoe is untied," I said.

He looked down. "Oh, thanks. Have a nice day, you two."

Once Officer Mustache tied his shoe and was gone, I caught Gorgeous staring right at my crotch. I was five seconds away from perminately damaging his face, when I realized Officer Mustache's hanky was in my lap.

"Here," I said, holding the hanky out to Gorgeous. He put out his hand--I'm sorry, his bear paw of a hand out to take it, held the hanky by the ends of his long fingers, and examined it. I realized he had avoided any contact with my hand, which I felt was very odd. As I leaned in to see what he was looking at on the hanky, we both found a stain that we really wish we hadn't seen at the same exact time, and bunked heads when we tried to get away from it.

I bit my lip as Gorgeous winced from the impact, laughter building like a volcano in my body. He didn't look like a happy camper, so I quickly dampened my amusement. "I think we should get you some ice and a few clean napkins. Maybe a whole paper towel roll, actually," I said.

Gorgeous gave me a long look. "You think?"

***

"So, you must really like your new house," Gorgeous said. He said it very nasally, too, since he had his fingers clenching his nose. It would have been cute, if his chest wasn't smudged with blood and his feet weren't drenched like mine, and making puddles on the floor.

My mom was going to kill me when she got home. Oh well.

"It's alright, I guess."

"I know we just met and all, but I could help you move around some things if you want. I consider myself pretty strong." He flashed me a boyish smile and flexed his muscular arms.

"Name," I said, ignoring his feeble attempts of flirting and grabbing the tanned monster truck in my kitchen, washing my hands thoroughly in the sink.

"What?"

"Nombre?" I fished through one of the many unopened boxes in the kitchen for the first aid kit. When I finally found it, I slipped on some latex gloves and got out all of the supplies I was going to need.

"What?"

"Your name. That was Spanish for "name". What's your name? You do have one, right? You're not some pedophile that looks my age and makes up names as he goes along following women as they jog peacefully up and down the road?"

"Sin," he said flatly. "Sin Trinidad. What's yours?"

"Sin?" I started laughing. Hard. "No really, what's your name."

"Sin." Gradually, I was getting under his skin. The thought of getting under this guys skin made I, Pepper Ballard, enjoy myself to the highest degree. "It's a name that's been passed down for a while now in my family. I was given the name from my grandfather."

"Sin." I tested the name with my mouth, fascinated by it, but at the same time, it was such a typical attractive name that I started laughing once again. Just as I expected, the neighborhood I was in was filled with clichés.

I stared into his Caribbean blue eyes, waiting for him to look away first. He didn't. I did. Sin had very nice eyes. But they were bedroom eyes. Everything about this guy screamed sex and everything he said seemed to have hidden meanings.

I seriously didn't trust this guy.

And after a close examination of his nose, I was confused to see that I hadn't broken his nose. If there was anything I could brag about, it was that my roundhouse kick was powerful, meant to break someone's nose, and it had never failed before.

Not that I ever did it before...

"Interesting. Your nose isn't broken, by the way. Just really swollen. Probably will be bruised tomorrow. I can tell just by looking at it. Still nice and straight. I'm certified in all areas of first aid, and a black belt in Taekwondo, in case you were wondering. That all being said, you might have a concussion."

Still, Sin didn't seem to concerned about his health. "I've been hit a lot in sports, never broken a thing. I have good genes." Conceited? Check. I could feel his cool gaze on my back as I wet some paper towels and put soap on them. "Was that rape whistle really necessary?" he wondered, then, "because my ears are still ringing like crazy."

I slowly assessed his outfit. Black running Nikes. Black shorts. Pretty normal outfit. Nothing that screamed "rich boy". Something was off about him and I couldn't put my finger on it. I could tell he was slightly uncomfortable around me.

"Girlfriend?"

"What?"

I snorted. "I must have kicked you harder than I thought. Do you have a hearing problem?"

"I don't have a girlfriend."

Seeing the large hotel-sized swimming pool in my new backyard made me very spiteful of the neighborhood. "Are you gay, Sin Trinadad?"

Sin's golden eyebrows were well past his hairline by the time I turned around with a bunch of soapy paper towels in my hand. First he seemed amused at what I said, then he looked extremely offended once he realized I was serious. "Are you saying I look gay?"

I looked at him. Really looked at him, first taking in his rippling tan torso, blondish-brown hair that was messy yet somehow neat-- in that it appeared he had styled it to look that way. Jaw line that a model had and a straight nose that was obviously still swollen from me kicking it. His legs were long and defined like the rest of his body.

"Unless you can't commit to relationships for whatever reason, definitely. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You're flawless. There's no reason you would be single right now unless you're gay."

"I'm not really looking for a relationship right now."

"So you're a player? A pimp? Got them tally marks on your bedpost? Interesting. Very interesting. I bet your milkshake really does bring all of the boys to the yard."

Sin tilted his head at me as if to say, "Seriously?" His entire demeanor changed from charming to angry. Good, he was starting to hate me.

"Pimp-Daddy, do you have AIDS? I did touch your blood, you know, to save your life before you blacked out again." When he didn't say anything, I started to hum to myself, wiping a wet paper towel down his chest. "Do you own a sweater-vest?"

"I don't have ant blood diseases."

"What about a sweater vest?"

Sin barked out a laugh, inhaling a little sharply when I started to dab at the blood on his face. "Well, actually...yes. I wear them on special occasions, but--"

"So you wear sweater vests. This seems like a sweater-vest kind of neighborhood, though, so that doesn't really prove anything," I intervene, turning the paper towel over onto a fresh side. Up close, I could see just how cleanly shaved he was. Maybe a little too clean shaven. "Do you like to shave? I don't see a speck of stubble."

"I shaved this morning." There was that flat voice again. That version of a guys voice when he was really, really trying not to take his anger on a girl. Whether he would verbally or physically lash out to me was still a mystery.

"Shaved your legs and armpits too?" I wondered.

He let that sink in a little. "Excuse me?"

"Is your razor pink with little flowers on it?"

Sin flinched back from my touch. "I'm not gay."

"Sure."

He stood up from the chair he was in and blocked my way from the sink to wet another paper towel. "Why do you think I'm gay? A moment ago you didn't even know who I was. Did someone tell you something about me? Did you meet any other neighbors...?" He ran a hand roughly through his blonde hair hair, laughing to himself. "It was Drew, wasn't it. Dark hair and brown eyes?"

"You're the one that brought up the rape whistle, not me. And you're the first neighbor I've met so far, so I have no idea who you're talking about," I said honestly, making a show of brushing past him to get an icepack. I smacked the thing against his stupid perfect chest.

"Hey, what's your problem? I understand that I startled you before, and I'm sorry for that, but I don't even know you. I'm convinced that you already have something against me. Honestly, I know how it feels to move a lot because my father used to move us around constantly. We've only recently decided to stay here. See, I'm trying to be nice. I'm not the bad guy here. I've already told you things about myself, and you haven't even told me your name!"

"Fine. You want to know what my problem is? I don't like people like you," I said honestly, throwing the pinkish paper towel in my hand to the side.

"People like me," he echoed, deeply in thought as he looked me up and down. "What exactly does that mean? Do you have something against men? Are you one of those feminists that are angry at all men or something?"

"I like men." I crossed my arms over my chest, raising an eyebrow. If he wanted to know what ticked me off about him, he had to find out all by himself. "I'm not a feminist. Too much, at least."

Sin's mouth pressed down in a line. Clearly, he was having a lot of trouble figuring me out. A lot of people did. "Are you one of those people that has something against blondes?"

"No, but I do find brunettes more attractive." This guy was desperately wanting to know more about me and I sure as hell wasn't letting him in.

"Then you must find me stunning, because I'm not a natural blonde."

"Now you're just being pathetic," I said.

I waited for Sin to start laughing. He was serious?

"I don't like you. And if you think that Crest Whitening Strips smirk of yours that works on all of the other ladies will work on me, then you're sorely mistaken. Now, get out of my house. Go cruise around in one of your seven Lamborghini's or something."

Sin leaned against the counter, a slow grin lining his face. "You don't like rich people. You think we're all the same. "

I kept my poker face on. "Not necessarily."

"I know exactly who you are now." His grin widened until I honestly thought his entire face would only be a smug grin. Damn, he had a big mouth. In fact...everything about him was big. "I knew that a new family had moved in here. I can't believe I couldn't see it when I met you, though."

"What?" I asked softly, utterly confused. Was there something wrong with me? Why was he looking at me like that?

"I should have known you were a Power Ranger or something as soon as I saw that you matched your tye-dye sports bra with your shorts. I used to watch Power Rangers a lot. They always matched. Just like you."

I gave him a long, sarcastic look. "Seriously?"

"No." His deep laughter now rolling off his tongue like a caress. He then pushed off of the counter and loomed over me, caging me against the fridge. For a moment, I let myself go and swam deeply into his brilliant blue eyes like a dang snorkeler. Sin's expression was absolute stone--I had never seen someone become so serious so quickly. "If you think that you're better than me, and that you can talk to me like I'm a pile of dirt because you have this idea in your head that I'm a snobby white kid, I have snobby parents, and a snobby girlfriend, simply because I live in this snob-fest of a town, you're the one that's sorely mistaken. And you're just another judgmental bitch."

Right when I thought he was going to let up and give me room to breathe, he came in even closer "And here's the thing, New Girl." Sin's body practically was flat against mine, his hot flesh right up against my belly. His expression tightened into anger and those nice, pretty blue eyes that I thought were kind, turned into a pair of piercing spears. "Normally, if someone hit me like you did outside, I'd make sure they never do it again. I thought you would apologize like a civilized person, and we'd make peace. It seems that we haven't. If I were you, I'd be a nicer to me. Girls like you get eaten alive here in Orange Gate County. I'm not being metaphorical."

My pulse was in my ears by the time he was done speaking to me, but I stood my ground, not moving an inch away from him or unlocking our gazes. "Are you threatening me?"

"I'll see you around, New Girl." With one hell of a heated glare, Sin left the room and slammed my front door shut.

It was then I noticed the thick parallel carvings on the counter on each side of my body, that were at least inch deep each, where Sin had once placed his hands. I ran my finger along the parallel lines, my mind going back to that bizarre magazine with the picture of the scruffy werewolf with brown hair, clawing at a vampire.

There was no way...

**************************************

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