Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 104766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
“Dude. WHO is in the bedroom?”
“Drew.” I mouth the word as clearly as I can so I’m not forced to say the name out loud. Miranda is being so damn loud.
“Wait. Back the fuck up. You have Drew Colter in your room, and you’re wearing that?!” Her eyes roam my body. “If you’re wearing that, what the hell is he wearing?”
I shrug, water bottles in my hands beginning to condensate. “Boxers?”
“Oh my god, whose boxers?”
I shrug again. “I don’t know, Zero’s?”
“Are you fucking serious? He put on Zero’s shorts?” Her head shakes in disbelief. “I have to see this.”
I grab her arm when she tries to stalk toward the bedroom. “Don’t you dare!”
“Please. I have to look. There is no way that guy fits in my boyfriend’s boxer shorts. No fucking way.”
“You’re right, he doesn’t fit in Zero’s boxers,” I hurriedly say. “And I doubt he’d want you to stick your nose in there.”
“But this is my place, and what kind of hostess would I be if I didn’t say hello?”
“Um, you’re drunk, and I doubt he wants you oogling his naked body.”
“HE’S NAKED?” she shouts. “SHUT UP.”
I shush her again. “Shhh, oh my god, he’s wearing boxers. We just talked about this. We’re just watching TV, okay? Calm down. Nothing is going to happen.”
“Are you insane? Seriously, are you literally insane? You should see your tits in that shirt. I’m straight, but I’d go gay for you in that shirt.”
She reaches out to touch one, but I slap her hand away with a laugh.
“Nothing is going to happen.”
“Tess, I love you.” Her hand goes to my lower arm somberly. “So hear what I’m about to say ’cause I’m only going to say it once. If you do not fuck that guy, it’s over between us.”
CHAPTER 20
DREW
MY LEVEL OF FLIRTING IS FINDING SOMEONE ATTRACTIVE AND PRAYING THAT THEY’RE BRAVER THAN I AM.
I hear laughing from the kitchen which means the roommate is home—but it doesn’t sound like that boyfriend of hers is with her and if he is, he hasn’t uttered a peep.
“HE’S NAKED? SHUT UP!”
I stifle a smile, reclining against the headboard, waiting patiently for Tess to come back with our water.
I strain my ears to hear what they’re saying, and they do not disappoint.
“Shhh, oh my god, he’s wearing boxers. We just talked about this. We’re just watching TV, okay? Calm down. Nothing is going to happen.”
“Are you insane? Seriously, are you literally insane? You should see your tits in that shirt. I’m straight, but I’d go gay for you in that shirt.”
Miranda isn’t wrong. Tess and her tits look hot in that shirt, and I’d go gay for her too if I wasn’t already straight.
Wait.
That makes no sense…
“Nothing is going to happen.”
“Tess, I love you. So hear what I’m about to say coz I’m only going to say it once. If you do not fuck that guy, it’s over between us.”
Welp. At least they didn’t have the decency to whisper. And if anything was said after that last part, I didn’t catch it because Tess comes through the door breathlessly, as if she’s run a marathon, back leaning against the door after she closes it behind her.
“Um. Hey. Sorry that took so long.”
“If you do not fuck that guy, it’s over between us.”
I can see her nipples through the shirt. The silhouette of color, the hard nubs, the outline of her areolas.
Shit.
I’m a boob guy.
I’m a leg guy.
I’m an ass guy.
“Nothing is going to happen.”
“If you do not fuck that guy…”
“Hey, I’m back!” Tess is cheery in the doorway, her eyes betraying nothing of the conversation she was having in the kitchen.
How is she able to act normal?
I’d be blushing, red from head to toe.
But Tess just stands in the doorway watching me with two bottles of water, one in each hand, before strolling in and closing the door behind her.
“Miranda stopped by. She’s spending the night at her boyfriend’s and wanted to grab her skin care stuff.”
Oh.
Skin care stuff…
I half expect her to tell me she’s going to move to her friend's room and give me my privacy, but instead, she hands me a water bottle, crosses the room, and sinks to the bed on the other side.
The mattress dips.
The door flies open, and Miranda sticks her head in. “Oh my god, I am soooo sorry.” Not. Her eyes are darting around the room. “I’m heading out now, but I wanted you kids to have this.”
She tosses a book at us, and it hits my calf.
“Whoops. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Her head disappears, then pops back in. “Actually, do some things I wouldn’t do. Live a little, go crazy.”
The door slams.
Tess sits frozen on the bed, water bottle halfway to her parted lips, eyes wide as if she were petrified. Or horrified, both different and the same.