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)
Octavia snatches the half-unwrapped burger out of my hand before I can sink my teeth into it, rewraps it, then dumps it into the bag before entering her room across from me. “They’re not for you.” She dumps the grease-lined bag onto her bed before moving to the walk-in closet. “Well, not yet. We’ve been invited to an event.”
When she pulls out a pair of shorts and a shirt from the wire rack in her closet, I spin around to face the hallway. “An event that requires two dozen cheeseburgers?” I shouldn’t sound as excited as I do, but what can I say? I’d much rather attend a party with burgers on the menu than caviar.
“Yeah. I’m not exactly sure why we need so many, but I thought, what the hell, we need to get out and meet some people, so a movie marathon seems like a great way to do that.”
I wait until the ruffling noises of her getting dressed stop sounding through my ears before pivoting around to face her. My movements are nowhere near as eager as they were when I smelled the fat laden down in her takeout bag. “A movie night? That sounds as boring as your job.” She has a diploma is business and an associate degree in business management, yet she fetches coffee for a man who doesn’t even make six figures a year. “Maybe I should sit this one out.”
When my hungry eyes stray to the bag dumped on her bed, Octavia snatches it up and holds it close to her chest. “You’re not getting one of these unless you come with me. I got my job because I threw out feelers like I was seeking a date, whereas you hid in the hallway near the bathroom like a weirdo with a fascination for public restrooms.”
If only she knew how wrong her assumption is.
“I’ve been looking for work. There just aren’t many employers willing to…” My words trail off when none of my excuses are suitable for public exposure. How can I tell Octavia I need a job that’s close enough to home I can use the bathroom during breaks? “I have an interview tomorrow,” I follow with, taking the easy route.
Octavia’s face lights up. “Doing what?”
She praises me like one of the dogs I may end up walking by handing me a cheeseburger. I tear it open and rip my teeth through it so she can renege on her offer before disclosing, “Local dog walker.”
Her shoulders slump. “You hate dogs.”
“I don’t hate dogs,” I bite back, talking through a mouthful of fat. “I’m scared shitless of them. That’s different.”
“So you’re going to walk them. Makes perfect sense.” She whizzes past me, but her steps aren’t fast enough for me to miss her eye roll. “You’re intolerable, Caleb.”
I love our banter, but my bliss doesn’t linger for long. Octavia only makes it to the entry of our apartment before the reason for our move smacks back into her. With her cheeks white and her eyes wide, she pivots around to face me. “What if they know? What if they googled me, and they’ve clicked the pieces together?”
“No one googles anyone these days… they troll them on social media.” I rush out my last sentence, but Octavia still hears it. She grips the takeout bag so firmly her nails shred the paper material while she sways like a leaf on a hot summer’s day. “I’m joking, Tiv. Why would they invite you solely to make fun of you?” I curse my stupidity to hell when I recall some of her ‘supposed’ high school friends doing exactly that.
After snatching the house key out of the fruit bowl on the two-seater dinette, I curl my arm around Octavia’s stiff frame, then guide her out the door. “If this is a snooze fest, half those burgers are mine.”
With how tense her shoulders are, Octavia’s laugh is a nice thing to hear. “And I’ll cook for a week.”
“Don’t turn a man off his food before he is close to eating it, Tiv. Jesus.”
My breathy chuckle from her ramming her elbow into my ribs turns into a grunt when she stops galloping down the stairs after only one level. I arch a brow when she breaks away from me to stride to a door as gritty and knocked about as ours. “You met a friend in our building?”
“Yep.” She pops the ‘P’ at the end of her short word, making her reply seem longer. “And I also work with her.” The smile that snuck onto her face returns stronger than ever when she murmurs, “She is really cool, Caleb. I think you’ll like her.”
I choke on my reply when Octavia’s brisk knock on the warped wood sees the door being yanked open only a second later. I not only like the girl standing on the other side of the door. I’ve fucked her—twice. Once with my fingers and the second time with my cock.