Read Online One Week (Stolen Kiss #0.5) by Shana Norris - Free Book Online Page A

Once again, the makings of a bad horror film.
    “What are you doing, skulking around like that?” I demanded.
    Jude looked at me, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He wore a plain white T-shirt again, and I could see his tattoo peeking out from under one shirtsleeve. “I was just standing here. Trying to decide whether or not to go back to the party. I saw you, and you looked like you wanted to get out of here fast.” He shrugged. “So . . . do you need a ride?”
    “N-no,” I stammered. “I’ll wait for my friend.”
    “Ashton?” Jude asked. He shook his head. “Don’t bother. She’ll hang around Carter Hawthorne all night, trying to work up the nerve to ask him out. She’ll finally give up around 1:00 a.m. If you’re lucky.”
    I groaned at the thought of hanging out at the party, alone, until one in the morning.
    Jude started walking down the path. He didn’t look back at me as he said, “If you want a ride, the offer stands for the next two minutes.”
    Dark shapes of mountains and trees rose in the night sky around me, and stars twinkled overhead. I didn’t know which way to go, or how long it would take to walk.
    Sucking in a deep breath, I started after him.
    #
    I seemed to have forgotten how to talk. That had never happened to me before. I was president of the class student council my freshman, sophomore, and junior years. I had been voted freshman, sophomore, and junior class queen, and was vice president of Willowbrook High’s math club. I had run campaigns, delivered speeches, talked to almost everyone in school, and had never once ran out of things to say.
    But that night in the creaky old truck, with a spring digging painfully into my back, I couldn’t think of a single word to say to the guy sitting two feet from me.
    Not that Jude even attempted to start a conversation. He had opened the passenger door for me and then closed it once I was seated on the torn bench seat inside the truck’s cab. Then he’d walked around the front of his truck and climbed in, started the engine, and put it in gear.
    Other than the squeaking of the truck’s shocks whenever we hit a bump in the road, we rode in silence.
    I looked at Jude from the corner of my eye, studying him in the moonlight. He kept his right hand on the steering wheel, his left elbow propped up on the door while he chewed his thumbnail. His long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but pieces had fallen out of place, the strands slipping over his ears.
    He must have felt me looking because he turned to me, meeting my gaze for a moment before looking back to the road.
    I cleared my throat. “So,” I said, “I got my tire fixed.”
    Jude made a grunting noise in response.
    “You were right. I ran over something big.” I was babbling, but I needed to fill the silence. “The tire guy said he had to use the biggest plug they had, the ones they use for really big tires.”
    Still, Jude said nothing.
    “Um, I’m Hannah, by the way. Hannah Cohen.”
    “Jude Westmore.”
    “I’m Lydia Montgomery’s niece,” I said. “I’m staying with her.”
    Jude nodded. “I know.”
    I wondered how he knew, but I didn’t ask.
    “So you live near my aunt?” I asked. “That’s what Ashton told me.”
    He nodded again and pulled his thumbnail from his mouth. “A few blocks over.”
    And we were back to awkward silence.
    Was he still mad because I had offered to pay him?
    “Look,” I said, taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry about the other day. I didn’t mean to insult you.”
    He raised his eyebrows. “Did you insult me?”
    I gaped at him. “You kind of stormed off when I offered to pay you.”
    He shrugged. “I wasn’t looking for a reward. I was raised to help people when they need it.”
    “I was raised to believe that no one does anything without a reward,” I said. “It’s one of the rules.”
    Jude turned onto a street that looked a little familiar. I figured we must have been getting close to Aunt Lydia’s