Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I hopped in the SUV, and headed home, trying to figure out exactly how to break the news to her.
By the time I pulled up, I still hadn’t decided.
But I grabbed all the shit out of the back, then made my way inside.
I’d figure it out on the fly.
And try like hell not to sound too happy about her staying with me for a night or two.
CHAPTER TEN
Siana
I mean… I had to snoop around, right?
Left all alone in his house with nothing else to do, with the instructions to settle in?
It was just what people did.
Not just people who were harboring a secret little crush on hot bikers.
The house wasn’t huge, but definitely was a case of ‘bigger on the inside.’
And, yeah, it desperately needed work that—judging by all the supplies strewn about—he was clearly working on.
But it had good bones.
It had a workable-sized kitchen that was its own room. And as someone who disliked open-concept living spaces, often resenting that about my own apartment, I really loved that. There was a dining space that did connect to the living room, but it had a clear enough separation that I wasn’t bothered by it.
To the other end of the house was a hall full bath that was aching for a facelift, two empty rooms that were clearly the extra bedrooms, a hall linen closet, then the primary bedroom.
The bedroom was the only one with a decent amount of furniture. It featured a king-sized bed that didn’t swallow up the entire room, a single nightstand, an old dresser that could use a sanding and refinishing, a large closet, and finally, its own full bathroom. Again, it needed work, but it was a nice, big space with a double vanity, a shower niche—the type with fully glass doors—and a jetted tub that looked like it might be as old as I was.
I grabbed some paper towels from the kitchen, wetting them in his bathroom, using a dash of his liquid soap, and trying to refresh myself a little bit after being so sweaty all day.
He actually had a decent amount of toiletries for a guy. Including an SPF day cream and a night one. Both in sleek, masculine packaging because, I don’t know, I guess the average brands were too girly. He clearly liked that brand, though, because all of the products in his shower were the same packaging and scents.
I suddenly wanted to get close to him to see if the scent clung to his skin.
I’d been too hysterical the night before to notice when he’d been holding me.
Finished cleaning up, I tried to coax Frida outside with me, but she was clearly worn out completely, refusing to budge from her spot near the vent in the kitchen.
I made my way to the front window, looking out on Alaric’s quiet little neighborhood.
It would be a nice place to walk Frida.
No honking horns, flashing police lights, backfiring cars, and various, unpredictable strangers.
Sure, out this way more, I might have to keep my eyes peeled for the occasional reptile or whatnot, but it would likely be a much more peaceful experience for Frida. And, therefore, for me.
It seemed like just a few minutes but had to be over an hour or so before I saw a vehicle turn into the driveway.
But not a bike.
My stomach twisted, sure the bad guys had somehow followed me.
I forced myself to relax, remembering they’d been in a car, not an SUV. This was probably just someone Alaric knew.
What was my move here, then?
Did I answer the door?
Pretend I wasn’t there?
I was generally a ‘hide until they go away’ type of girl when it came to door knockers. But that could be considered rude at someone else’s house.
Then, though, saving me from a downward spiral, the door opened, and Alaric climbed out.
Alaric?
Where was his bike?
I watched for a second as he walked to the trunk, but Frida’s frantic barking had me rushing through the house to see what was going on. And hopefully try to shush her.
“What’s the… oh,” I said, seeing her staring out the window. Where a tiny little green anole was climbing on the window screen. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s alright,” I said, patting her head as the little lizard kept climbing until, eventually, he disappeared, leaving Frida making little huffing, whining sounds.
“It’s okay, he’s gone,” I told her, rubbing her head.
It was then I heard the front door close, prompting me to walk back out, Frida right on my tail, to find Alaric carrying… a bunch of my bags.
My bags?
And was that Frida’s dog bed?
What the hell was going on?
Before I could ask, though, Alaric’s head tilted to the side, almost looking… apologetic?
“I can explain,” he said as he carefully set down my bags on the couch, but reached inside to find Frida’s little Golden Retriever stuffy, and handed it to her.