Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
I don’t want to fight him—not only because I don’t feel the need to fight anymore, but because I don’t trust him to fight fair. I wouldn’t put it past him to sneak in some brass knuckles or some shit.
“So you said you needed to talk to me about this weekend?” Savvy asks.
I shake myself free of my thoughts and pull the door for my building, holding it for her. “I’m sorry. What?”
She cocks her head to the side and smiles. Fuck, that smile lights up the whole city. I am so gone for this girl. “This weekend? New York? I assume Mr. Silver Fox will be in town?”
I grunt. I hate when she calls him that. “Yeah. Friday and maybe Saturday, depending on how it goes. We’ll be staying in the city Friday night.”
“I have a class Friday afternoon, but I could skip it. I haven’t missed any yet.”
I want her to skip class to spend a weekend away with me for real, not head to the city to deal with this bullshit. But I need to stay focused. I need to remember why I got involved with Savvy to begin with.
I jab the button for the elevator. “Email your professor Friday morning and let her know you’re not feeling well.”
“Oliver.” She props her hands on her hips and glares.
“What?”
“You turn into a dick every time we discuss this job you’re having me do for you.”
“Nah. I’m always a dick.” The doors slide open, and I wave her inside. “Any other impression you got is just a figment of your vivid imagination.”
“You are so full of it,” she mutters.
I cock a brow. “What’s Arturo up to these days?”
She snorts. “You wish you knew.” Then the elevator doors open to my floor and she’s laughing and pushing her way into my loft, and I can’t be pissy anymore. Even after Chuck’s threats. Even knowing what tomorrow will bring.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
OLIVER
Ididn’t like this last time, but I like it even less this time. Which just proves that I’m getting too attached, and I have no fucking business doing that.
“Another new panty set?” she calls from the bathroom, a flirty lilt to her voice.
I close my eyes, imagining her in the creamy white bra and panties my sister picked out. “Yeah.” The word comes out scratchy, and I have to clear my throat. “My shopper said you can’t wear black under this dress.”
Savvy opens the bathroom door and sticks her head out. “You do know I actually own a variety of underwear, don’t you?” She has a towel wrapped around her, and I take in her bare shoulders like an addict searching for even the smallest hit. I’ve barely let myself be around her in the last week because the temptation is too strong. To touch. To taste. To turn this arrangement of ours into something else altogether.
I could tell her the truth—that I like buying her things. That I like the idea of something she got from me being with her for a while after this is all over. That this is the only way I can give her gifts without her reading more into it than I can give.
But of course I have no intention of telling her any of that. “She’s already shopping, so it’s more efficient to have her grab anything you might need.”
She grins. “I just think it’s hilarious that you have a personal shopper.”
And Rose would think it was hilarious if she knew I was calling her that, but telling Savvy that my sister is really the one doing the shopping would invite too many questions I don’t want to answer. I like the way Savvy looks at me, and I’m not prepared to change that by telling her about my screwed-up family life.
Savvy disappears behind the door again and clicks it closed. I hate that fucking door between us. I need that fucking door between us.
I should’ve gotten us two rooms tonight, but I didn’t. Because I’m a masochist? Probably. Or because I know I’m going to want her close after exposing her to him again? That too.
There are two beds, and we share my place every night, so this shouldn’t be so different. Only it seems completely different. I’ll be able to hear the sounds she makes in her sleep, and having the scent of her in my nose is bound to inspire some interesting dreams.
“So?”
I snap my head up to see Savvy in a formfitting white dress with a slit up the side of her thigh. My gut clenches.
I didn’t even hear her come out of the bathroom, which is a shame because I could’ve used a moment to prepare myself. I can’t get air into my lungs.
She cocks her head to the side. “Cat got your tongue?”
“He doesn’t even deserve to look at you.” The words are out before I realize I’ve said them out loud, and she blinks, some of the sass slipping from her expression.