Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 15210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 76(@200wpm)___ 61(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 76(@200wpm)___ 61(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
A thought occurs to me as I park in front of the modern apartment complex. In my haste to get home, I totally forgot to order myself dinner. Shoot. I grumble at myself over my blunder, but it’s too late to worry about it. It looks like I’ll be eating crackers and pepperoni again tonight.
Taking three flights of steps up to my apartment sucks, but I refuse to take the elevator. The death closet is too small and way the heck too slow for my taste. I step into the brightly lit hallway and lean against the wall, trying to catch my breath. I really need to hit the gym once we get Gatsby Books up and running.
A brown paper bag sitting on the floor in front of my door catches my eye, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Allie came to the rescue yet again and ordered my dinner. I have the best partner ever.
After dropping the bag on my breakfast bar, I kick off my shoes as the smell of Chinese food fills the room, causing my stomach to growl. Pulling open the white plastic containers, I find my favorite Sweet and Sour Chicken and fried rice. Allie saved my life.
I’m finishing up my dinner when there’s a loud banging on my front door. I have no idea who could be knocking this late. I don’t know anyone in town except Allie and London. Glancing down at my black yoga pants and concert t-shirt, I wince. After a long day working in the dusty bookstore, I look like something the cat dragged in. This isn’t the time to meet new people.
“Hi.” I take a deep breath and throw open the door, nearly swallowing my tongue when I see the incredibly hot guy standing there glaring at me. Holy momma. Dirty thoughts bombard my mind as his masculine scent wraps around me.
The anger in his dark brown eyes suddenly turns to heat. I barely resist the urge to squirm as his gaze moves over my body. Goosebumps erupt along my spine, and I nearly melt into a puddle of goo. “Did you enjoy my dinner?” He leans close to whisper.
“Your dinner?” I gasp as my mind fights to function. Oh boy. In my hungry state, I never even looked at the name on the bag. Oops. My bad. “Oh no. I thought my friend had sent me dinner,” I ramble on. “We were so busy today, and I didn’t have a chance to eat.” I take a deep breath, seeing the doubt and confusion in his dark brown eyes. “I had no idea they delivered it to the wrong apartment.” My tendency to babble when nervous takes over. “I’m so sorry I ate your dinner. I’ll pay you back.” I blow an errant curl out of my eyes and hold out my hand. “I’m Maddie Martin.”
He rubs his bottom lip while his eyes roam over my body. His freaking intense stare causes me to squirm. Like a bug under a microscope. I let out the breath I’ve been holding when he smiles. “Fischer Mackenzie.” His massive warm palm wraps around mine, causing my blood to heat. “I live across the hall.” He points at the apartment directly across from mine. “Well, little thief, how are you going to make this up to me?”
Holy cow. Fischer Mackenzie. Mackenzie. This is Allie’s older brother. How did I miss the resemblance to my partner? They have the same brown hair and eyes. I’m so busy coming to grips with this coincidence that I let my mouth lead the show without consulting my brain. “I could order you dinner to replace the one I ate. Or I could try to cook you something.” God. Please don’t take me up on the last offer. I don’t want to accidentally poison you the first day we meet, runs through my mushy mind as my body overheats from the look in his eyes. I’m not even upset he called me a thief. This hottie can call me anything he wants. Where are these crazy thoughts coming from?
“Not exactly what I had in mind.” He smiles down at me. “Why don’t you let me take you to dinner?”
“I already ate,” I blurt out and want to smack my own forehead. Dumb. The hottest guy you’ve ever met just asked you out and you have the lamest reply, I hiss to myself, realizing he’s flirting with me. Or maybe my exhausted mind is playing tricks on me? It doesn’t matter. No wonder I’m a twenty-six-year-old virgin.
“What about tomorrow night? Are you free then?” he asks, and I nod my head yes before my mouth has the chance to screw this up for me.
“Yes. But you have to let me pay,” I insist and realize he’s still holding my hand. When I give it a tug, his warm grasp tightens slightly, refusing to release the hold. “Since I ate your dinner and all,” I add as an afterthought.