Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Why does that not surprise me?”
He shrugs. “Probably because I’m one good-looking motherfucker.”
I hop off the stool and make my way back around the counter. I grab another glass. This time, I head straight for the alcohol cabinet.
“They’ll be here this week. I paid for express delivery,” he says. “And this is where you come in.”
“Banks, as your brother, and as their brother—”
“Oh, it’s just his brother. Just Jess. I’m not about to fuck with Foxx. And after that whole breaking into Moss’s back door thing and the thing about making him think he was getting arrested, I’m letting that sit for a while.”
“Smartest thing you’ve said all day,” I mumble.
He joins me at the liquor cabinet and takes out a glass too. “So let’s brainstorm all the places we can stick my face.” He smirks. “Besides the obvious.”
The back of my neck pinches as I pour us both a shot of tequila—never mind that we chose full-size glasses. Together, we down it.
The tequila burns as it rolls down my throat. My stomach heats as the liquid pools inside it. I close my eyes and hope it eases the stress of a very long day.
But I don’t hold my breath.
“You okay?” Banks asks.
“Yeah. It’s just been a …” My mind slips slowly through the day until it gets to the one thing I’ve avoided thinking about. “A very … unexpected day.”
Damn, she looks good.
Seeing her today did what it always does—it makes her hard to forget.
Her smile was brighter, warmer than it has been the last few times we’ve run into one another. She was rosier too. Ashley’s laughter wasn’t forced, and our banter flowed as easily as it ever has.
Of course, it doesn’t hurt that she’s downright edible. Every piece of that woman is perfection. Her eyes are kind. The way she listens to what you say is so damn attractive. The way my body flames when she brushes against me? It’s undeniable.
If she wasn’t the serious, marriage type, we could have a lot of fun. God knows I’ve had to remind myself she’s not into casual relationships a million times over the years.
“What happened?” Banks asks, his curiosity piqued.
I set the glass down and then hop onto the counter beside it. The stone is cold under my ass. “Guess who I ran into today?”
He shrugs. “Do you really want me to guess, or is this a … what do you call it? A rhetorical question?”
“Ashley,” I say, her name falling from my lips before I can stop it. “She was at LaPa.”
Banks grins, leaning against the counter beside me. “I thought it was odd that you brought home tacos. It all makes sense now.”
“I saw her car parked there on my way home, so I stopped.”
“To say hello?”
I look down at my brother. His grin turns devious.
“What else would I be stopping to say?” I ask.
“Oh, I don’t know. Ride my cock is always a good one.”
“Saying that to Ash is a good way to get your nose broken.”
Banks chuckles.
I hop off the counter. This conversation can go a couple of directions, and I’m not interested in either one of them at the moment.
He reads me correctly and walks toward the foyer. “I’m going to head over to that building you call my house and take a shower. Call me if you get bored.”
“Later.”
I wait to move until I hear the door slam. As soon as it does, I let out a huge breath and glance at the tacos. Yup, he ate them all.
Bastard.
A shadow filters through the room as a tree outside sways in the moonlight. Suddenly, the kitchen is darker and quieter than before. This isn’t good for someone trying not to think.
Ugh.
I run a hand over my head and picture Ashley sitting in the booth earlier tonight. A smile tickles my lips.
We share a unique friendship—a tight bond that neither of us works toward, nor do we prioritize. It just is. It’s my easiest friendship.
Mostly.
The only ripple in our rapport is the fact that it is so easy. We have the same sense of humor. Enjoy the same foods. Like the same hobbies, for the most part.
We have similar outlooks on life … except one.
Ashley wants what most women want. She’s wanted the whole shebang—a husband, house, baby, and dog since we were in elementary school. She wants to live in one of those books she’s always reading.
I have no interest in being the shirtless guy on one of those covers.
Although I could be if I wanted.
Serious relationships simply aren’t for me. They’re time-consuming. Both partners end up changing who they are in order to make the other one happy—then no one is happy. The sex stalls, you start arguing over what you’re having for dinner, and before you know it, the person you loved at one point is now your mortal enemy.