Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
I shove my key in the lock and push open the door to the apartment before walking in. Adam is hot on my heels. I frown when his hands settle on my hips. This isn’t the first time he’s touched me this evening. Maybe I’m making too much of it, but the contact feels too intimate for a first date with a stranger.
He needs to back off.
I hasten my pace and slip out of his grip.
Normally, I’d hope that Noah wasn’t home to spoil my evening but that’s not the case this time. The further we move into the apartment, the more I realize that I’ve made a tactical error in judgment.
Inviting Adam up was a mistake. I should have ended the evening when he dropped me off.
The apartment is dark, which means that Noah is out for the night. Ever since he broke up with Ashley, he’s become more of a homebody. It’s nice. We’ve been spending quality cousin bonding time together. We buy quarts of ice cream and lament our single status as we binge watch Netflix.
I head into the kitchen to put a little distance between us and hit the lights. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Sure.” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his khakis and glances around the apartment. “Got any vodka?”
I almost snort. Yeah…that is so not happening. The last thing I need on my hands is another drunk asshole.
Instead I say, “Nope, fresh out. How about a water or Gatorade?”
He shrugs and positions himself in the middle of the couch. “Gatorade’s fine.” He pats the spot next to him in invitation. “Why don’t you get your sexy self in here.”
Sexy self?
Seriously? It takes everything I have inside not to burst out laughing. Poor Adam. He’s going to be disappointed by the way tonight turns out.
I grab a bottle of water for myself and a Gatorade for my unwanted guest and head back into the living room. I toss him the bottle as I bypass the couch, heading to the recliner which is on the other side of the coffee table. Hopefully he’ll get the hint that my sexy self isn’t interested.
Apparently, he doesn’t understand what social cuing is because he sends me his version of a smoldering look.
It falls flat.
My lips tremble and I press them together in order not to smile.
“You’re so far away.” He crooks his finger. “Come sit over here.”
I have now received official confirmation that this was a terrible idea.
What the hell was I thinking?
I bite my lip, wondering if I should point-blank ask him to leave. Stalling for time, I unscrew the cap from my water and take a drink from the bottle.
His gaze drops to my lips. “You seem like a champ at swallowing. I’d love to find out for myself if it’s true.”
Water goes down the wrong pipe and I sputter, spraying liquid everywhere. I wipe the droplets from my mouth and chin. There’s no damn way that he just said that.
My eyes turn glassy with tears as I croak, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
A lazy grin curves his lips.
Apparently, I did hear correctly.
What an asshole!
All right, that does it. He’s definitely getting booted.
Adam opens his mouth and I wince, mentally preparing myself for what’s going to pop out next.
But there’s nothing.
Instead, he snaps his mouth shut. His eyes widen as he stares past me.
I’m about to turn and see what has caught his attention, when a deep voice says, “I believe what your date meant to say was that it’s time for you to take off.” The voice sharpens. “Isn’t that right?”
I bolt out of the recliner and swing around to face Carter. The first shock is that he’s here at the apartment. The second is that he’s wearing the tight, leave-nothing-to-the-imagination rooster underwear and nothing else.
I slap a hand over my mouth as my eyes lick over him. Forgetting about Adam, I whisper, “What are you doing here?”
Carter shrugs and casually leans against the doorframe. His muscles ripple with the movement. That’s all it takes for my panties to flood with heat. I’m like one of Pavlov’s well-trained dogs. When it comes to Carter, I can’t help myself.
“I was hoping we could talk,” he murmurs, and his eyes soften.
I wave a hand at his practically naked state. “Like that?”
A lopsided smile curves his lips. “You seem to go all mushy when I’m naked, so I thought it was worth a shot.” He jerks his head toward Adam. “Plus, I heard we had a guest.” He raises a brow. “So, I figured, appropriate attire was mandatory.”
I spin toward Adam, only now remembering that Carter and I aren’t alone. My date for the evening frowns and shoots to his feet. He spears a finger in Carter’s direction.
“Who’s this guy?” He pauses for a beat. “And where the hell are his clothes?”