Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
“Why do you have duct tape right here?” He frowns.
“Oh, there was an issue once, and I just used duct tape to fix it. It worked.”
“Fire hazard,” he mutters as he tinkers with something. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think this one is dead, Cherry.”
“Like, the whole unit?”
“Yep.” He closes it up and turns to me. “You can definitely call in a professional for a second opinion, and you’ll need one anyway to replace it, but it looks like it’s all burned up in there. I unplugged it so it doesn’t set anything on fire.”
“Shit,” I mutter and pull the wrap off my head, shaking out the wet strands of my dark hair. “Well, thanks for having a look. I guess I’ll be washing everything in cold water for a while. Including myself.”
“Don’t be stupid.” He scowls down at me. “Just come over to my place until you can get on someone’s schedule. You can wash your stuff over there and shower. It’s really no big deal for me, and it’s just across the hall.”
“Listen, I know we don’t get along—despite this little moment of truce. You don’t have to do this.”
“It’s true, you drive me crazy. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be neighborly.” He pushes his hand through his hair in agitation. This is the Zeke I know. “Maybe we can work out a trade.”
I take a step back, appalled. “No.”
“Jesus, not that kind of trade, although you’re hot as fuck, and I wouldn’t complain.”
I’m pretty sure my jaw just hit the floor. Zeke thinks I’m hot?
“I was thinking that maybe you could put a hold on the nagging while I offer you my hot water.”
“I don’t nag.”
He laughs and rubs his fingertips into his forehead like he’s completely frustrated.
“You nag more than my grandmother, and that woman could have won an Olympic gold medal if it were a sport.”
“What do I nag you about?” I prop my hands on my hips and narrow my eyes at him.
“What don’t you nag me about?” He shakes his head. “’Turn the music down, Zeke. Stop laughing so loud, Zeke. Jesus, Zeke, when was the last time you checked your mail? It’s overflowing in your box. Zeke, you parked like crap again.’ I’m telling you, I get real sick and tired of my name.”
I can only blink at him. Do I really sound like that? Do I bitch at him constantly?
“Well.” I sound stiff as a board, but I can’t help it. I’m mortified. “I will stop doing that. Thanks for bringing it to my attention. And thank you for the offer, but I’ll pass. I can go to my parents’ house. I appreciate your help tonight. Have a nice evening.”
He frowns. “Now, you just sound like you have a stick up your ass.”
“What do you want from me?” It comes out in an exasperated shout. “Christ Jesus, Zeke, have you ever considered that I nag because you do those things all the goddamn time, and it’s inconsiderate? No, I’m sure you haven’t. You just think I’m a tight-ass bitch who likes the sound of my own voice, not a human being who has jobs and responsibilities of her own. But it’s fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut from here on out and suck it up. I’ll invest in some noise-blocking earbuds and park in the visitor parking so I don’t have to deal with your shitty parking jobs. I really do appreciate you being so nice to me tonight. It was a pleasant surprise, but I won’t expect it to continue. See you around.”
“God, you’re so damn exasperating.”
“Same goes, Zeke.”
We just stand there for several seconds, breathing hard and glaring at each other, and then the next thing I know, Zeke closes the gap between us, cups my face in his hands, and kisses me.
Like, kisses me.
It’s hot and demanding, as if he’s been thinking about doing it since the minute we met, and he has months-and-months-worth of pent-up sexual aggression to get out.
And, surprisingly, I don’t mind at all.
Because as much as he makes me want to scream, he makes me feel. He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my life, and now that his hands are on me, his mouth on mine, I don’t want him to ever stop.
I press against him, chest to stomach, and invite more.
And he gives more.
Takes more.
It’s the hottest kiss of my damn life.
Zeke growls—like, literally growls—and reaches down to cup my ass. He picks me up like I weigh nothing at all, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he sets me on the kitchen counter.
“How is it possible,” I mutter as his mouth does incredible things to my neck, “that we can dislike each other so much and want to tear off each other’s clothes at the same time?”