Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
“What? You can’t make that call.” She tugs on the basket, but I don’t let go. Her frown grows deeper. “If you don’t give me my clothes back, I’m calling the police.”
“We both know this place ain’t safe.” I back away. “Let’s get into my truck and I’ll take you to someplace nice.”
She holds up her hand. “You know what? Keep it. I’m good.” And then she turns on her heel and sprints inside like I’m some serial killer she thinks is about to kidnap her and make her into a skin suit.
Frowning, I stand there with her basket and my phone in my hand. My phone. Shit. I forgot I had Beck on the line.
“Dude, you still there?”
“Yup.”
“So about this building, I think I’m buying it.”
“You told me that it would bring the black plague on our company if you did business with Walker.”
“I may have been exaggerating.”
“How pretty is she?” He must’ve heard us talking.
“She’s not for you,” I snap.
“Oh, that pretty. I can’t wait to see her.” He laughs.
I narrow my eyes. “You might be my best friend of ten years, but that can be rectified.”
Beck howls harder. “If I didn’t think you would beat my ass in, I’d come over right now to check her out, but I can wait until you bring her to the office.”
“That would be never.” I hang up and head inside after my girl. She’s foolish if she thinks I’m walking away now.
2
Pepper
What the hell was that about? Who takes someone’s clothes? I push my key into my lock, wondering if I should go back and demand them. My cutest pair of underwear were in the laundry basket that jerk hijacked from me.
I jiggle the key in the lock, having to play with it for it to work. That’s what happens when you can only afford a certain amount of rent; everything is broken in some way or another. It finally clicks over after a bit of a struggle.
I push the door open, quickly dropping what I have in my hands right inside the entryway. I know I need to turn right back around and go back out there to face the jerk who stole my panties. He wasn’t exactly a jerk, but he did steal my basket. He may be handsome, but that’s beside the point. He’s still a thief.
“Why are the cute ones always crazy?” I mumble to myself.
“Talking about me?” I scream, whirling around to see the man from outside standing in my doorway, my basket in his hand.
“No,” I lie. “Talking about the man at the laundromat.” His perfect jawline ticks. Everything about him is perfect. From his short brown hair that is just enough to run your fingers through to the long lashes on his green eyes that most girls would kill for.
The only thing out of place is the small bump in his nose. I bet that someone broke it at some point. Gah. Even with that slight imperfection he looks hot. It only adds to his rough appeal. Judging from his massive size and build, whoever punched him in the nose, if that’s what happened, regretted it.
He looks down at the lock, pulling my keys out. “You almost left your keys in the door.” He steps inside, letting the door fall closed behind him.
“I was about to grab them.” I throw my hands up in annoyance. I had forgotten them. It wasn’t the first time. “Hmm.” He drops my laundry basket down next to the rest of my stuff before he starts making himself at home, looking around my place.
“You brought me my basket. You can leave now.” I point toward the door. He puts his hands inside his pockets, looking over the board that I constructed for class a few months ago. I got an A, so I know the designs are good, but I still feel subconscious about my work. I shouldn’t even care what he thinks because he’s trespassing.
“You do these?” he asks, looking back at me.
“No, I stole them.” I roll my eyes, but it only makes him smirk at me. He turns back to look at them.
“You’re a designer?” I'm not sure why I’m still answering his questions, but there is something about him that has me telling him things I shouldn’t be telling a stranger.
“I’m trying.” I take a step closer to him. I should be screaming at him to get out. I don’t know this man, and we’re alone in my apartment. If I scream there is a chance no one will hear me.
“They're really good. Have you done any office designs before?” He turns back to me.
“No, I’ve only done mockups for homes.” I wet my lips. Does he really like them or is he trying to get in my pants?
“Who do you work for?”
“Stone Hut.” His brows furrow together.