Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
His laugh is still barreling through my chest when I enter my apartment quicker than I left it.
I’ve only just braced my back onto the door when the pounding of my heart switches to my back. My sluggish brain only clicks to the fact it is someone knocking on my door when a male grumble sounds through the warped wood.
“Just a minute.”
Confident it’s Caleb seeking clarification that I have a guest over, I toss around my pillow fort for one to make it seem as if it was made for two before racing into the shower to switch on the faucet.
By the time I make it back to the front door of my apartment, the sweat on my face is genuine. But just in case, I scrub at my lips to make them ruddy, then slap the back of my hand over my cheeks.
Once I’m certain I look as flushed as I feel, I curl my hand over the doorknob, then pull open my door. “I’ll join you in a minute.” I stop faking a conversation when the man on the other side of the door isn’t who I was expecting.
It is not Caleb.
It is the building supervisor.
“Lou… ahh… is everything okay?” I tug up the low neckline of my shirt to cover the snippet of my bra I wanted Caleb to see before peering past Lou’s wide shoulder. “Are you here to replace the fire extinguisher?”
That was the last time I stood across from him. When I requested for the defunct fire extinguishers on each floor to be replaced. Six. Months. Ago.
“You know the rules, Jessmina. No guests.”
When he barges past me, I push out with a grunt, “Guests?” I wave my hand around my empty living room. “What guests?” As quickly as my confusion rose, anger surfaces. “And what do you mean I can’t have guests? This is my apartment. I pay the rent every month—”
“On a rent relief apartment for one.” He holds his index finger in the air to amplify his point. “You were only given a two bedder because there were no studio apartments available. If you have someone staying here regularly, you need to place them on the lease.”
“Then it’s lucky there is only one person staying here, isn’t it?” I swallow my attitude when Lous’s eyes sling my way. He only charges me for a studio apartment even with me having double the floor space of his crash pad, and he also doesn’t deserve my wrath. That right solely belongs to the imbecile living above me. “I was preparing for a shower when you knocked, hence the shower being on, but if you need to search my apartment to take my word, go head, Lou. I have nothing to hide.”
I don’t know if it is the disappointment in my tone that gets me over the line or the low hang of my mouth. Whatever it is, it sees Lou leaving after only the slightest warning. “Make sure the fire code is always upheld. We don’t need another visit from the department chief.”
I grumble under my breath that he’d get the chief off his back if he’d replace the extinguishers, but since he’s walking to the door, I keep my mouth shut. “I know the rules, Lou. A couple of hours is okay, but over three nights is classed as permanent.”
I hide the bile burn my comment caused to the back of my throat when Lou pivots to face me. “I don’t want to be a killjoy, Jessmina. I know how important it is for young ladies like yourself to let the wind rustle through your hair on the odd occasion, but rules are rules. They’re as sacred as—”
“Marriage vows?” I suggest through twisted lips.
Lou looks ill.
Good.
That’s what should happen when you’re an adulterer.
After showing him out, I say, “I promise I’ll save my hair-winding activities for outside my apartment.” I choke over my poor choice of words. The last time I let my hair down was in the alleyway bordering the very apartment block we’re discussing. It wasn’t exactly a carefree, innocent exchange.
Lou dips his chin before shuffling to the stairs. I watch him like a hawk, my feet only moving when I can no longer hear his boots hitting the scuffed wooden floors. My breathless lungs should make my second climb of the stairs between my apartment and Caleb’s super slow, but I make it in record-breaking time.
Uncaring that he could be in a compromising position, I burst through the front door of his apartment like his personal space is my personal space.
“Don’t mind me,” I murmur, stopping Caleb mid-hump of a dining room chair. “I figured since you’re responsible for Warren’s head knock, you won’t mind losing a handful of items from your first-aid kit to fix it.”
Really, Jess? Out of all the names in the word, you had to go for a familiar one.