Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“Okay, how many?”
“As much as fits. This is a frat house, we’re supposed to have beer.”
“Never know who’s going to stop by,” Grant added.
“And the other fridge?” I desperately wanted this conversation to be over. Even marching up the stairs holding heavy bottles seemed better than this. I needed to catch my breath. It felt like I’d been holding it since I first looked up and saw these two towering over me.
“You can ignore it for now,” Bennett said, as if he was granting me a special favor.
“It’s mostly used when we have parties,” Grant added.
“I see.” I stepped around them, a bit like you would a snarling dog. “I’ll go get the beer now.”
“Downstairs and to the right,” Grant reminded me as I opened the door and started down the stairs. Hopefully, the basement would be quiet and devoid of super tall frat boys with problems respecting personal space.
I kind of got my wish. The basement was much quieter, but there was a hum of a machine and a steady pounding sound. I turned to the right and immediately came to the door of a gym, which had free weights, treadmills, rowing machines, and large exercise equipment with weights and barbells. It was better equipped than the local gym in my hometown.
The sound was coming from the treadmill in the corner, where a shirtless man jogged steadily, his shoes hitting the moving belt at an even pace.
I couldn’t see his face, just dark hair and tan skin. But what really caught my eye was the tattoo on his back. It was full of intricate designs and patterns, and it made me curious to see more, but I couldn’t exactly go over there and ask him if I could take a look.
I continued on and came to another room. Turning on the light revealed a storeroom with lots of shelves, most of which contained cases of beer. There were also shelves stocked with party supplies. Red cups, napkins, plates, and more. On the far wall was a cabinet of some kind. Stepping closer, I saw it was filled with bottles of wine, all lying on their sides, the cork end facing out. There had to be nearly a hundred bottles. These guys sure took their drinking seriously.
With a small sigh, I located Grant’s beer first. It was in a sturdy cardboard box with more of the foreign language on it. I couldn’t read a word. The box was heavier than I thought, but it seemed like it would be easier to carry the beer in it.
After that, it was just a matter of seeing which types of beer were already in the fridge, finding them downstairs, and carrying them up.
Except that got pretty tiring after a while. I took a breather to break down the boxes in the kitchen, but I couldn’t figure out where to put the recycling. I’d have to ask the next time Bennett and Grant materialized over me.
By my sixth trip, I was flagging. Holding a six-pack in each hand, I trudged out of the storage room and nearly ran into the man leaving the gym.
“Whoa,” I yelped, coming to a stop in front of him. He’d been wiping his forehead with a towel, and when he lowered it to peer at me with light grey eyes, I saw it was Theo.
“Hi, Hailey.” He had an easy smile even though his face was a little flushed from his run. “Fancy running into you here.”
I smiled because we had almost run into each other, and also because he’d used my name. I had a feeling that, to Bennett and Grant, I was just the help. “Hi.”
He glanced down, ignoring the stain on my shirt, and spotted the beer. Slinging his towel over his shoulder, he immediately took them from me. “They’ve got you filling the beer fridge?”
“Yes,” I said, rolling my aching shoulder.
“Just the kind of glamorous task you were expecting when you signed on, right?”
“Something like that.” It was hard not to stare at his body, still glistening with sweat from his run. He had tattoos plastered across his sculpted pecs. On the right side was some kind of timepiece, like an old-fashioned pocket watch. And on the left side was writing in yet another foreign language. Was nothing around this place in English?
He caught me looking. “Want me to translate?”
I blushed. “No, I was just… I can carry those.” Not meeting his eyes, I nodded at the beer he now held.
“So can I.”
“But it’s my job.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t. Come on.”
He was halfway up the stairs before I was composed enough to follow. I had a good view of his calves, a body part I hadn’t spent a long time studying in the past. But his were nice. Tan. Strong-looking. And lightly covered in dark hair.