Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Either he doesn’t hear what I say, or he chooses to ignore my comment, because he doesn’t grace me with a response other than a small smirk. Having a conversation with this guy is like getting blood out of a stone and once more I find myself wondering what his story is. I reach up to get a mug from the cupboard before trying again but he beats me to it.
“Trouble sleeping?” he asks, indicating to the mug in my hand.
“It’s been a hectic week. My mind can’t switch off.”
“I hear a good cup of hot chocolate can help solve insomnia,” he tells me and if I’m not mistaken, I detect a hint of a smile in his voice.
“Good to know, but this girl likes to eat healthy, so I’ll stick to warm milk and honey for now.”
Kyler doesn’t respond and I wonder if this is a breakthrough in this weird strangers-in-the-night relationship we seem to have, or whether it’s just another one-off conversation lasting more than five minutes. Either way, he doesn’t make an effort to continue, and leaves me to make my drink and to try and get something more out of him.
“I’m glad you eat what I leave for you. I mean, I assume you don’t go without food, but it’s still a relief to know you’re getting at least one meal a day.” And now, I’m blabbering for the sake of filling the awkward silence.
“It’s really nice of you Thea, and don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, but you don’t have to cook for me every day.”
“It’s no trouble,” I tell him, “I’m cooking for the others, so I might as well make a bit extra for you.”
“No, please,” Kyler continues, and the tone of his voice has me turning around to face him. His meadow-green eyes meet mine, and for the first time, I notice the exhaustion in his demeanor. Gray circles under his eyes, eyebrows drawn together, his body slumped as he rests his arms on the counter—he looks as if he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“I can’t . . . I don’t contribute to the grocery bill, so it’s not fair to include me in meals.”
“Surely you contribute in other ways?” I ask, curious as to how on earth Jude, Devon and Nolan agreed to become roommates with this guy.
Kyler shrugs and takes a gulp from the glass of water sitting next to his plate. “We have an arrangement,” is all he says by way of explanation.
“Well, maybe we should come to our own arrangement,” I counter, hoping he’ll take the bait.
Kyler stands and takes his now-empty plate to the sink, rinsing it under the faucet before placing it and his glass in the dishwasher. Closing it, he leans against the counter and crosses his arms, and my eyes are instantly drawn to his defined muscles straining against his shirt.
“What kind of arrangement?” he asks, and I feel slightly triumphant because his curiosity seems to be piqued.
“I continue making you a plate of food,” I say slowly, giving myself time to come up with something that will work for him. “And . . . you pay me back in kind with this ‘good cup of hot chocolate’ you’ve told me about.”
Kyler laughs and the change in him is startlingly obvious. A brooding Kyler is one thing, but a laughing one is a sight to behold. His body relaxes, the stiffness in his shoulders falling away. His face transforms into a stress-free version of the one who has been constantly scowling during the few times I’ve seen him, and he looks like a younger, more relaxed version of himself. I immediately make it my mission to try and make him laugh more often.
“What happened to being the girl who ‘likes to eat healthy’?” he asks, using air quotes with his fingers as he repeats my own words back to me.
I take a leaf out of his book and shrug my shoulders as I reply. “Maybe she likes to live life on the edge every once in a while.”
Kyler laughs once more before he walks toward the hallway, pausing before he leaves the room. “Oh hey, Thea? You should be careful about some of the guys on the hockey team. They’re not all as nice as Jude, Devon, and Nolan.”
“Okay?” I answer, but it comes out more as a question, given I’m not sure where this conversation is heading. It also doesn’t escape my notice he left his own name out of his statement.
“All I’m saying is, make sure you have your roommates’ numbers saved in your phone.”
“Well, I already have Devon and Nolan’s, so I guess I just need yours . . .” My reply leaves me wondering how he’ll handle the fact I’ve effectively asked for his number.
Kyler reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone, tapping on the screen before continuing. “Here,” he says, holding his phone out to me. “Send yourself a text and then you’ll have mine.”