Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 92646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“Nova said you wouldn’t be back until later today.” She crosses her arms. Not to cover up. Just to look more intimidating. It somehow makes things worse because her tits are amazing.
Sorry I keep noticing.
It’s hard not to.
“Yeah, uh.” I nod, keeping my gaze firmly locked on the far corner of the kitchen like I’ve never been less interested in anything remotely shaped like a woman. “Red-eye got in early. I wanted to sleep in my own bed.”
A beat passes.
Her eyes flick to the skillet, eggs still sizzling in the pan, then back to me.
“You want some?” she asks, voice a little softer. “I mean… I already made them. Seems dumb to waste food after I, you know, screamed at you and threatened you with a spatula.”
She’s offering me eggs.
In her underwear.
That is barely underwear.
I clear my throat. “Uh… that’s—really nice. Thanks. But I think I just need to, uh…” I gesture vaguely over my shoulder. “Sleep. For, like, six to ten years.”
She nods quickly. “Totally. Right. You’re tired. That makes sense.” Then she holds the spatula up like a microphone. “No hard feelings?”
“Nope. We’re good.”
We both stand awkwardly frozen, fake smiles plastered on our face.
Then.
I reach for my travel bag, nearly tripping on a squeaky dog toy, and give her a small wave. “Okay, well. Welcome home, I guess. And um—sorry for, uh… seeing everything.”
Her head tilts. “You didn’t see everything.”
Like hell I didn’t.
I raise a brow. “You sure ‘bout that?”
Her mouth drops open and it’s then that she realizes: I have in fact seen everything.
poppy
. . .
“Iwant to die.”
“Calm down—it couldn’t have been that bad.” She’s got a green juice in one hand and not a single ounce of guilt on her expression. Must be nice.
I stare into my cell phone screen at Nova’s naïve face. “It could have been and it was.” I lean forward so I can quietly hiss, “My tits were out.”
She blinks. "You were wearing a bra—you said so yourself."
"Barely! It was lace. You could see my heartbeat."
Nova takes a slow sip of her drink. "And this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you?"
"Yes!"
She arches a brow.
I flop dramatically onto my bed. "This is hell. I live in hell."
"You live in a very nice house with central air and a wine fridge," Nova reminds me. "And two hot roommates."
"Correction: one hot roommate. The other is now emotionally traumatized and will never make eye contact with me again."
My best friend has the audacity to laugh at my pain. “Somehow, I doubt that.”
“Would you shut up?”
“I can’t.” She continues giggling. “Skaggs is no more traumatized by the sight of your tatas than you were by the sight of him shirtless on the internet.”
Nova knows I did a full FBI-style background check on both guys before agreeing to be their third roommate. Social media scans. Team roster bios. Reverse Google image searches.
I know Turner, aka Skaggs, was drafted as a junior in college and that Cash likes to snowboard in a T-shirt and jeans. Sponsored by Red Bull and Nivea. Bit of a douche, but whatever.
And yes, I may have stumbled across a shirtless gym video or five.
But none of that prepared me for meeting Turner in real life. Six feet plus of silent brooding, post-red-eye exhaustion, and jawline so sharp it could cut drywall.
"I’m never coming out of this room again," I say.
"Yes, you will. You’ve got to eat sometime."
"I’ll DoorDash and eat under the bed." I sigh loudly. “What am I supposed to say when I go out there?”
I heard noise coming from the kitchen a little while ago. Meaning: he’s awake and in motion.
“Say hi?”
I make a strangled noise in my throat. "Hi? That's your big plan?"
"It’s a solid opener. Better than 'sorry you saw my nipples and my ass cheeks.’”
I roll my eyes. What planet is she living on?
"You’ll be fine. He probably doesn’t even care.” Nova turns her head several seconds and shouts, “Babe—would you come in here for a second, I have to ask you something!”
I groan.
“Nova, could we please leave Luca out of this?”
Too late. Footsteps shuffle. A door creaks. And then Luca’s face appears in the background of the video call, slightly disheveled and holding a banana.
“What’s up?” he asks, already chewing.
Nova points at me. “Poppy needs male perspective.”
Chew, chew. Swallow. “I’m listening.”
Nova grins. “Okay, hypothetical situation. You walk into the kitchen, and there’s a girl standing there in nothing but a thong and a lace bra, flipping eggs. What goes through your mind?”
Luca shrugs his giant shoulders. “Honestly? I’d assume I died in my sleep and went to heaven.” He pauses. “Why? Did something happen?”
“No,” I say at the same time my best friend says, “Yes.”
“Would someone tell me what’s going on?” Luca laughs. “You two are so weird.”
Nova sighs. “Skaggs saw her naked. I mean—she was wearing a thong, but barely.” She looks at me. “Do I have that right?”