Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Annabelle disrupted my daydream. “Are you okay, Amber?”
Shaking my head to fend off thoughts of Rory, I lied. “Yeah.”
CHAPTER TWO
* * *
AMBER
I’d sent Channing the key to my place so that he could get situated while I was at work. His flight got in to Logan Airport at 10AM, which meant I wouldn’t be home to greet him.
I’d made sure the new bedding was washed and placed on his bed and cracked open a window to air out the room. I also left him a welcome note with two mints, the same gesture I afforded my Airbnb tenants.
Since the school where I worked was only a short walk from home, I decided to head over to my condo during the lunch break to at least say hello.
It was a cool, crisp day in Boston, the quintessential autumn afternoon with falling leaves and blue skies. The historic neighborhood where I lived—Beacon Hill—was known for its brick sidewalks and Federal-style rowhouses. It was definitely one of the more sought-after neighborhoods in the city.
As I approached my door, the smell of something cooking immediately infiltrated my senses. Music was blasting. He hadn’t wasted any time making himself right at home, apparently.
Channing didn’t even notice me enter.
I swallowed. The sight of him taking over my kitchen really caught me off guard. It wasn’t because he was frying something on the stove, but rather because he was doing it in nothing but his underwear.
His muscular legs were on full display forming a path up to his gray boxer briefs, which left little to the imagination, hugging his package and round ass. And he was shaking that ass around. There was no doubt in my mind that if Channing ever decided to do this very thing for a living, he’d make a killing. Homeboy could dance. He must have been listening to an old school R&B channel because Do Me! by Bell Biv DeVoe was playing. That could have been his anthem, I suppose.
This was all very Tom Cruise in Risky Business—well, if Tom Cruise had been shirtless and shredded. Taking a deep breath in, I just stared at him for several seconds. For as long as I’d known him, I’d never seen him like this.
Deciding it was time to make myself known, I called out over the loud music, “Channing!”
He turned around suddenly and began to laugh. “Oh, shit!” He immediately lowered the music.
“Meow.”
It was then that I realized what looked like a kitten was sitting on his shoulder. I hadn’t noticed it before because the right side of his body wasn’t visible. Also, because I was mostly looking down.
What the heck?
“You brought a cat?”
“Meow.”
“No.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Well, sort of. It’s kind of a crazy story. I’ll tell it to you over lunch.”
“Do you always cook half-naked?”
Was he blushing?
“Actually…yes. But I didn’t think you’d be here until later. Otherwise, I would’ve put some damn pants on.” He approached then kissed me on the cheek, the warmth of his lips and body sending shivers down my spine. A bit of his saliva lingered on my cheek.
Oh. Fuck. I’m in trouble.
Sneaking a fleeting look at his tanned, washboard stomach, I noticed a simple tribal tattoo that started on his lower abs and dipped into the abyss of his underwear line. That was intriguing and made me wonder where the ink ended.
I pried my eyes upward. “I know you weren’t expecting me. I decided to come by and say hello, since I don’t work too far from here.”
“I’m really glad you did.” He flashed his beautiful teeth. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Good to see you, too.”
All of you.
Something on the stove started to burn, prompting him to rush back over to it. The kitten managed to stay glued to his shoulder despite the swift movement. I laughed because suddenly my house had transformed into a circus.
He glanced back at me. “You can stay and eat, right?”
“That depends on whether you put some pants on.”
“No junk food for lunch. Got it. No problemo.” He winked. “Yeah, of course, I’ll get dressed.”
Stretching my neck in an attempt to see what he was cooking, I asked, “Is there even enough food? You weren’t expecting me.”
“Yeah. I always make too much.”
“Meow.”
“Do you mind telling me now where this cat came from?”
“I don’t know where she came from, actually. She found me somehow.”
“What?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. I was walking here, and she followed me to your doorstep. She found me on State Street and just kept walking alongside me all the way to Beacon Hill. I didn’t have the heart to leave her standing there on the curb while I came inside. She kept meowing at me. I figured she was hungry. I gave her a little of the turkey you had in the fridge. I’ll replace it. I was gonna find a shelter and take her there later or maybe tomorrow after work.”