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)
I should mention that the house next door is full of hockey players. And when I lock eyes on rough and rugged Brodie Stockhausen—who happens to be outside brooding on the porch—I’m not exactly impressed.
But I’m desperate, in a bathrobe, and need a bit of rescuing.
Soon I’m begging for his help with more than just squirrel duty and DIY projects. I want his attention and his touch—not just his friendship!
I want what every girl wants: him lying in his bed at night, so desperate for me that he’s willing to scale two stories to sneak into my window. Hey, a girl can dream…
But Brodie has a secret; one that leaves me wanting more every time we’re together but has him pulling away…
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER ONE
LIZZY
“We have what in our attic?”
“Squirrels.”
I stare blankly at one of my roommates. “So?”
“So,” Bethany deadpans. “I’m not staying here with squirrels running around the attic. What if one chews through the light fixture and falls into my room while I’m sleeping?” She shudders. “And what if it’s not squirrels. Do I want to be here to find out? No. It’s a no from me.”
There are squirrels all over campus. Obviously, they’re going to infiltrate the living quarters of those of us living in crappy, off-campus housing. Also, they’re cute. I don’t get weirded out by their presence like some of my girlfriends do—and I don’t agree they have beady little eyes.
My roommate swears they’re going to pounce or worse—attack—and won’t look in their direction. She says their little brown eyeballs bore into her soul when she sees one (or five or fifteen) when she’s walking to class.
“What’s your plan, then?” I stare at the small bookshelf in our living room, trying to decide on a book to read. It’s Friday night, but I have no desire to get cute and go out.
Plus, it’s cold.
“My plan?”
“Yeah. Your plan.”
“I’m going to stay with Jon until our freaking landlord gets pest control and removes them. I swear there’s an entire family up there. It’s probably raccoons.” She’s quiet for a few seconds while she worst-case scenarios all the horrible critters that could be living in our house. “Bats. Opossums. Rats.”
Another shudder.
“What’s Jill going to do?”
Bethany lets out a puff of air, moving to the kitchen.
“She’s going to her parents. Their lake house is like, forty minutes from campus and she doesn’t want her face eaten off, either. Her mom said they carry diseases, and Jill doesn’t want animal pox.”
I have no idea what that even is.
Does she mean rabies?
Ew.
“You’re being so dramatic about this.” Like so dramatic.
“You’re not being dramatic enough!” she announces theatrically. “You’re not staying in this house when there are rodents ready to revolt. You can’t.”
“I haven’t heard a single sound.” I shrug. “No animals.”
“That’s because you snore. If you were in my room, you’d hear it. The door for the crawl space is literally in my closet.”
That’s probably true that I snore, but I’m still not overly concerned.
“So what I hear you saying is that I’m going to be home alone for the next few days?” I hate being alone, which is the reason I have roommates. That and splitting the rent. “Why do I have to be here by myself?”
What if something is actually going to maim me?
“Go stay with Keesha or Marie. I told them we have an infestation and they offered to let me stay on their couch.”
We do not have an infestation. Is that what she’s telling her friends?
“I like them both but I’m not staying with your sorority sisters.”
It would be weird being there without Bethany, wouldn’t it?
“What about Danika and Michelle’s place?”
“Are you kidding me? They had a friggin bat in their living room last month, and Paul had to catch it with a lacrosse stick.” The words fly out of my mouth, and I immediately regret them, clamping my mouth shut to prevent more verbal diarrhea. Maybe I shouldn’t be reminding her when the subject of pests in our own attic is so sensitive.
“Then go next door.” Bethany is clearly frustrated with my rebuttal to all her suggestions—and rightly so. “The guys already offered to come over and handle it, but when I told the landlord, he said if anyone came over and went into the attic, it had to be a professional because if there was any damage, we’d have to pay for it.”
Of course he did.
“That guy is such an asshole,” I groan because our landlord is such an asshole.
We’re not sure what his deal is, but it takes him forever to respond to our messages. God forbid there’s an emergency, like a pipe bursting and water leaking through the ceilings around the lights. Once, the light fixture in our living room was crackling and buzzing, and we were afraid it would start an electrical fire. You’d think he would want to buzz right over and assess the situation? Protect his investment?
Did the man bother to call us back after we’d frantically left voicemail after voicemail?
Negative, ghost rider.
It took him days.
Why? Because!
He.
Is.
A.
Dick.
So. I’m not sure why he’d give a shit about the alleged critter in our attic, but if he’s going to handle it when he gets around to it and not a moment sooner.
I’ll believe it when I see it.
My bedroom is on the first floor, which could be a reason I haven’t so much as heard a peep from any unwanted houseguests—but that’s just a guess.
“Come on, Lizzy, let’s be honest,” Bethany laments. “Those morons next door would probably actually cause damage if they came here to fight squirrels, let alone more bats.”