Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
A big, strapping guy lingering in the hallway. He’s not as big as Brodie, but it’s close, and he is shirtless, and I don’t know where to look. Where do I put my eyes?
Not down.
Not at his chest.
“Who the hell are you?” he blurts out, straightening his posture and visibly shocked to see me walk out of the bathroom. “Sorry. I’m working on my manners. What I meant was—hey. Who are you?”
I don’t think now is the time to be confrontational, considering this guy most likely lives here and looks like he’s probably planning to take a shower—but his abrupt question is kind of rude.
“I’m Lizzy. Your neighbor.”
His brows go up. “Lizzy, our neighbor?” He looks me up and down, then around me as if he’s half expecting someone else to emerge. “Not to be rude, but… who let you in?” He clears his throat. “I mean—did you let yourself in the house or did you knock?”
When he moves his arm up to scratch the back of his head, I can’t help noticing that he’s flexing. His bicep flexes once. Twice—and if I’m not mistaken, he’s doing it on purpose.
Do guys actually think we’re dumb enough to fall for that?
What a goof.
I avert my eyes, staring down the hall to break his intense stare.
Who is this guy?
“We have an infestation,” I announce with no hesitation, which sounds better than “we have a squirrel loose inside our house, and it has made itself at home in my bedroom.”
My bedroom.
A horrible thought. He’s back at my place doing god-knows-what, and I’m stuck here with these guys I’ve only just met. A whole house full of them, though I’ve only met two so far.
“You have a roach infestation?” He pulls a face, disgusted at the idea of a roach infestation, and I have to correct him. “That’s fucking disgusting.”
That would be fucking disgusting if that were the case.
“No, no.” I shake my head emphatically, swishing my hands back and forth through the air. “Not roaches. God no. We have a squirrel inside our house, and I didn’t want to be there alone with it.”
“A squirrel? You have got to be shitting me. Those bastards are everywhere.” He says it like no big deal as if it were normal to have one inside a house, or maybe he’s just a chill dude all the time. “My theory is that they’re gunning for world domination starting on college campuses.”
“That’s my theory, too! And Brodie’s.” I laugh and watch as his eyes go from my face, down to my chest—then back up again, making me hyper aware that I’m standing here in a white tank top, no bra, and sleep shorts.
What the hell was I thinking? I could have at least put my robe back on…
But I didn’t.
“Were you wanting to use the bathroom?” I ask, pointing out the obvious since he was obviously about to enter before I came bursting out of it.
“Yeah. But I’m in no hurry.” He leans against the wall behind him, crossing his arms and legs—in no rush.
He’s in the mood to chat. “Who actually let you in to the house?”
That answer is easy. “Brodie.”
His eyes go wide. “Brodie?” He says it like Bro Dee, annunciating each syllable of his roommate’s name. “Brodie let you in?”
“Yeah. Why do you sound so surprised?” I nod. “Is Brodie normally a prick?”
“Compared to me? Naw, he’s a decent dude mostly.” He pauses. “He doesn’t bring chicks home though. Ever.”
“Ever?”
“No. They’re distracting.”
“Distracting?”
“Are you going to repeat everything I say like a parrot?” He laughs. “He thinks girls are a distraction.”
Oh.
“Why?”
The guy shrugs. “Beats the hell out of me.”
I adjust my stance, shifting on the balls of my feet.
“Well. To be clear, he didn’t bring me home. I begged him to let me in.” I laugh, explaining how everything went down. “When I ran out of the house, I saw him on the porch; he was standing outside eating—poor dude was the first person I saw, so he became my target.” I laugh again, thinking this guy might laugh along with me…but he doesn’t.
“Huh. That was nice of him.”
“It really was. Considering he doesn’t know me and we’d never met before today.” I pause. “My name is Lizzy, by the way. Lizzy Campbell.”
His head goes up and down in a slow nod, causing that smooth collarbone of his to do tingly things to my girl parts.
“I’m Sully.”
Sully? “Is that short for something?”
“Sullivan.”
Ah. “My mom has a friend with a kid named Sullivan.”
“No shit?” He scratches his head again, and there go my eyes, tracking the movement of his muscles.
“Yeah—no shit.”
Sully laughs, bringing his arm down. “So you and Brodie aren’t, like, fucking?”
“Are we what?”
“Fucking.” His expression is neutral, so I can’t decide if he’s serious because who the hell asks a question like that to someone they just met? In the hallway of their own house, no less.