Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
I don’t feel like getting yelled at again.
“No thanks,” she says curtly, dumping everything onto the countertop.
I watch her as she opens the fridge.
And stops dead.
“Hey, I hope you don’t mind, but I swapped our things around, seeing as you’re shorter than me. I lifted the shelf though, so you have as much space as before.” After a lingering pause, I add, “Connor said you’d be okay with it.” I owe him one for not telling me about Ryan in the first place.
After another long moment of silence, she sets to sliding her groceries onto her shelf, not saying a word, but also not threatening bodily harm. I watch, because I can’t help myself. She’s wearing black leggings, and her firm ass looks fantastic bent over in the fridge. My dick starts to harden.
I sure as hell can’t let that happen.
And I can’t let this tension go on either. We just got off on the wrong foot is all. Collecting my empty beer cans, I climb off the couch and make my way over to the kitchen to stack them in the case. “I’m sorry about this morning.”
I get only a small grunt in response as she rips the cardboard sleeves off her yogurt and snaps the little containers apart to line them up neatly in two rows.
“I picked up towels at Walmart after work. They’re gray, so they won’t get mixed up.”
“I doubt that would happen, anyway. I don’t buy my towels from Walmart.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes at her snotty tone and instead turn my attention to the textbook on the counter. “You in school?”
“Yup.”
I flip open the cover. “For what?”
“My MBA.”
“That’s—exciting.” I pull my fingers away just in time as she slaps the cover shut and collects the textbook along with the others. Hugging them to her chest, she grabs her purse and stalks toward her bedroom.
“Hey, hold up.” I tack on, “Please?”
She slows with reluctance.
“This is dumb. Can we start over?”
“Why?”
“Because we have to live together?”
She peers over her shoulder at me, her eyes flickering down. I’m ready for the club, in black pants and a baby-blue button-down that hugs my torso. I don’t often dress in anything but jeans and a T-shirt, but when I do, I like to think I clean up well. “Did you really just break up with your girlfriend or was my brother talking out of his ass again?”
I falter at the unexpected question. “Yeah. A few months ago.”
“How long were you together?”
“Four years.” And the last thing I want to talk about in my new life is Tasha.
She snorts. “Wow. And here I was, crying over eighteen months wasted.”
“That’s a good chunk of time too.” This is good. We’ve found something in common—our broken hearts. I lean against the wall. “Why’d you guys end things?”
Her jaw tightens. At first I think she’s not going to answer. “He said he loves me too much and he’s not ready for that kind of commitment yet.” She pauses to chew her bottom lip in thought. “Do you think that’s some ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ bullshit?”
Yes. “Hard to say. You’ll probably find out soon enough.” With a line like that, my gut says the guy is already dick-deep in another girl. But I can’t tell Ryan that. “Tasha told me she needed some space to make sure she loved me.” I smile bitterly. “She hooked up with one of my best friends two weeks later.”
“Ouch.” Ryan slides off her glasses, cleaning the lenses with the hem of her T-shirt. When she glances up at me, I see hints of sympathy. “So, you moved down to Miami to what? Get over her?”
Get over her. Forget about her. Keep myself occupied until she decides she loves me again. That last one sounds about right. I couldn’t stand being in the same city as her, knowing she would be out with other guys. “I needed a change, and I’ve heard this city is the place to be.”
“If you’re like my brother, then it is.”
“I’m not like your brother.”
“I guess we’ll see.” Again, that shrewd gaze drifts over my body. She’s already seen me naked; I wonder if she’s picturing me naked right now.
Blood starts flowing south and I have to shift my stance, ever aware of how fitted these pants are and that they don’t hide raging erections well.
Her eyes widen, as if she caught herself checking me out. Standing taller, she says, “Don’t touch my stuff anymore. I’m weird about my space. I like things a certain way.” With that, she disappears into her room.
I heave a sigh, glancing at my watch again. I’m no longer tired; the five-minute exposure to her, first to her sharp side, followed by something softer, has my pulse buzzing. I need to get out of here.
Thank God, Connor plows through the door. “Two minutes! The ladies are waiting.”