Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Think of her like all the other women. Make her like one of them. The small voice whispers in my mind, urging me to do the smart thing. If she’s like the other women, she’ll become boring. Boring isn’t dangerous. Boring doesn’t threaten to derail carefully laid plans.
But she’s not boring, even if I want her to be. And the fact that she meant so much to me in such a short period of time makes the way she ended things piss me off that much more. I even opened up and texted her about my mom to try explaining why I might have been distant, but she didn’t bother responding to that.
All that drive and ambition of hers comes at a cost. I learned that the hard way. Get in the way of Mia and her dreams? Get run the fuck over.
I won’t make that mistake this time. She can either bend and take what I’m offering, or she can regret it.
“Take the bed, Calloway,” I say.
She finally shrugs, raising her eyebrows like it makes no difference to her. “Suit yourself. Saulters. But that couch looks way too small for your ego.”
I grin. She’s teasing me now. That’s an improvement. Teasing and antagonizing each other is as far from our dynamic was two years ago as we can get. The more different it feels, the less it hurts. “I’ll manage,” I say, nodding toward the couch. “I can temporarily deflate my ego, if I have to.”
She yanks her bag up from the floor and stomps into the bedroom before I’ve even finished talking. She slams the door.
I shake my head and run my hands through my hair.
Damn. I can’t even decide if I’m looking forward to seeing how this plays out or dreading it.
Maybe it’s a bit of both.
I open my suitcase, dig out a backpack I’ve stuffed with toiletries, and head to the bathroom. I brush my teeth, take a piss, and then pull off my shirt for bed. I open the door and find Mia standing right outside like she’s been waiting.
She’s wearing a dark gray, oversized t-shirt and either very short shorts, or no pants at all.
My dick twitches, eager to solve the mystery.
“What are you doing?” she asks, eyes falling to my chest, then back up to my eyes. She jerks her head to the side and stares at a spot on the floor as she takes a step back.
“I brushed my teeth then took a piss. Any other questions?”
“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” she asks.
“Same reason you’re not wearing a bra or pants,” I say, noticing how her nipples have raised to two very distracting points over the past few seconds.
“I’m wearing shorts,” she says, cheeks going bright red.
I reach out, lift the hem of her shirt carefully until I see the faded blue of some old and worn looking cotton shorts. I grin. “Too bad.”
She doesn’t flinch back from my touch, and I don’t miss the goosebumps racing up her smooth, bare thighs.
I pull my hand back and she swallows visibly, then shakes her head, as if trying to regain her senses.
“If you get cold, just text. I can cuddle in that big bed with you. You saved my number, right?” I bite my lip, watching her face for a reaction. Maybe part of me feels guilty for fucking with her like this. I know exactly what I’m doing.
She starts to walk past me, eyes blazing with anger. Then she stops, rounds on me, and sets her jaw. “I don’t know what you think is going to happen here, but I’m going to tell you something.”
Oh, boy. I have a feeling her backbone is about to make its grand entrance.
“This doesn’t end with us sleeping together, or whatever it is you’re imagining,” she says. “I’m nobody’s plaything. Not yours. Not anyone’s. I’m here to get my dream job, and I have a really important interview tomorrow morning that I’m not going to screw up.” Her voice starts to shake and her eyes glisten. “So if you don’t mind, would you please get the hell out of my way before I pee my pants?”
I step aside, gesturing for her to help herself.
She storms past me and slams the door.
Guilt knocks at a door somewhere in my mind, but I decide not to invite it inside. I lean my forehead against the door, lips twisting in a small smile. “Good luck with that interview, Calloway. And for the record, I’ve had rave reviews from former playthings. You might be surprised how much you would enjoy it, if you gave it a chance.”
Being this guy has become easy for me. But around Mia it all feels wrong, somehow. I ignore the feeling and walk away from the door.
I grab a small blanket from the top of the couch, a pillow, and set myself up. The couch is way too small and my knees are bent over the armrest awkwardly, but I’ll deal with it. I thread my hands behind my head and study the ceiling as our interactions replay in my mind.