Caspian (Carolina Reapers #8) Read Online Samantha Whiskey

Categories Genre: Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Carolina Reapers Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
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Ryleigh scoffed. “It’s one of the most expensive buildings in town. The location is perfect, and the lighting in here is fantastic. There’s zero chance this apartment costs less than my little studio.”

“I promise, it does.” The realtor glanced back at me, and I nodded.

Here we go.

“But it comes with one caveat you might not go for,” she said, stepping to the side.

“What? No heat? Water issues? Haunted?” Ryleigh teased.

“A roommate,” I answered, barely hearing my own voice over the thundering of my heart.

Ryleigh’s spine stiffened, and she turned slowly, almost in slow-motion, her eyes popping wide as her gaze met mine.

My chest went tight. She was so damned beautiful.

She swallowed, then blinked, whipping her gaze between me and the realtor.

“I’ll just leave you two to negotiate the lease,” the woman said with a grin.

“Thanks, Claire,” I told her as she walked out.

“Happy to help!” she replied just before the door closed, shutting with a click that did nothing to break the palpable tension between Ryleigh and me.

“What are you doing here?” Ryleigh asked, her tone going defensive as she crossed her arms in front of her. Not that I blamed her. I’d had two weeks to come to terms with my role in what had happened to us. Two weeks to make my choices and change my life. Two weeks to act on the knowledge that Ryleigh was the only one for me.

“Let’s finish the tour, and then I’ll fill you in.”

Her eyebrows rose like I’d lost my fool mind, and maybe I had.

“As you can see, this is the kitchen.” I gestured to the six-burner stove. “This is where we could cook breakfast, or lunch, or dinner. Take your pick.”

Now her head was tilted at me, two lines forming between her eyebrows as she watched me cross the kitchen floor.

“Good sized pantry, which I find convenient since I like to eat.” I shrugged and pointed to the massive eat-in island that separated the living room from the kitchen. “That seats eight, so I’m told. You know, in case you want to have any of your friends over from school.”

Her mouth dropped open.

I flashed her a grin, because she looked too damned cute, even if she was still hella pissed at me, and headed for the hallway. “And this hallway leads to the guest—” I turned, but she wasn’t following, so I walked back into the kitchen. “You’re missing the rest of the apartment. Come on.” I nodded toward the hallway.

Mercifully, she started moving toward me, her footsteps slow and deliberate.

“So there’s the guest bathroom,” I pointed into the room off the hallway and kept walking. “This is the home office.” Swinging the French doors open wide, I motioned inside.

Ryleigh walked past me, surveying the space while keeping me in her peripheral vision.

Fuck, my hands were clammy. I’d never been the guy to put my future in someone else’s hands, and yet here I was.

“Nice lighting,” she murmured, glancing at the tall windows and industrial décor.

“It has this really nice balance of classic architecture and industrial design, which was why I jumped on it. Plus, it’s close to MCAD, so I figured it would work well for you.”

“Caspian—” She turned, shaking her head at me.

“And down this hall,” I interrupted, swallowing back my fear that she’d been about to reject me. If I could just show her the time and thought I’d put into this place, maybe I had a shot. “We have the home gym.” I pointed to the left. “The guest bedroom.” I pointed to the right, passing by the space without going in. “It has its own bathroom, and we can talk about which one you want of course, no pressure. You’ll find that I’m a pretty easy-going roommate.” I smiled over my shoulder at her, but she just blinked at me like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Over here is the roof access.” I opened the door and started up the wide staircase that led to the rooftop garden.

It was in the upper seventies today, far cooler than Iowa or South Carolina, and the breeze swept over my heated face, bringing a breath of relief. I wanted to tug at the collar of my T-shirt, but I logically knew that wasn’t going to help stem the flood of anxiety elevating my pulse.

We stepped into the garden and I turned at the sound of Ryleigh’s gasp as she took it all in, the plants that turned the center-of-the-city space into a little oasis, the seating area under the pergola, and the incredible views. I clenched my fist to keep from reaching for her hand and spun my Reapers ball cap to face backward. “But what really sold me on the place was this.” I pointed to the structure that took up the majority of the north end of the building.


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