Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Seventy-one? That’s oddly specific.” He reached for my beer again. “How about I drive you back to Houston’s.”
“Ohhh, noooooo.” I recoiled in horror. Fuck, I’d kinda forgotten I was staying with him until I found a place of my own. “I’m not going back to Houston’s. That’ll just give him ammo to mess with me or say I’m not taking this seriously, which I am.” Ramsey arched a brow as if doubting the veracity of my assertion, which was fair, considering beer sloshed from my mug as I said it. Ramsey snatched the drink from me and set it down as I frowned petulantly. “I’m just gonna find someone to go home with.”
“Oh yeah?” Ramsey plunked an elbow on the table, seeming interested. “You have any prospects?”
I ticked my chin toward the corner, where the table of hot guys had been earlier. “Those sexy dudes.”
“All of them?” Ramsey squinted, then gave me the same narrow-eyed look. “I didn’t realize you had a thing for huge age gaps. Or orgies.”
“No, it’s…” I looked again at their table. Sometime between beer five and eleventy-three, the hot guys had been replaced by a trio of white-hairs. “Shit,” I muttered, then shrugged. “I’ll find someone. It won’t take long.”
Ramsey shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“I’m not going back to Houston’s, dude. Not tonight.”
I guess I said it so vehemently that I gave Ramsey pause because, after a couple of beats, he exhaled a long-suffering sigh and said, “You can crash at my place.”
My lips twisted in a smirk, but before I could say a word, he frowned sternly at me.
“Whatever you’re thinking? No. You’re not doing anything but going to sleep.”
“That doesn’t mean no action can happen.” I waggled my brows. “Pornhub says so, and I give you my explicit consent to have your way with me.”
“Jesus Christ.” He stood and gestured for me to do the same. “Don’t make me regret this.”
“Literally the same thing the last guy I took home said to me.” I grinned as Ramsey groaned. “He didn’t regret it, though.”
“I’m already regretting it. Get your ass to the car.”
“Damn,” I said, as we walked through the door of Ramsey’s Cedar Grove pad thirty-five minutes and multiple Journey and Gaga songs later—my request. “This is pretty sweet.” It was a mansion, no doubt, but not ostentatious. I noted lots of windows and a contemporary vibe. The muted colors gave it a lived-in feel I dug immediately. “It is lacking a floor compass to tell me where the bathrooms are.”
Ramsey shut the door behind me and locked it. “Down that hall and to the far left. That’s also where the guest room is.”
“Gotcha. Who’s staying in the guest room?”
He rolled his eyes at me. “I’m gonna grab you a couple of bottles of water and some vitamins.”
I waited for him to tack on, Don’t touch anything, but he just gave me another amused up and down, then turned and walked off.
I went down the hallway, used the bathroom, located the guest room, and then wandered a little farther, peeking in doorways. There was a staircase to the second floor, so I figured I should explore that too. I found what must have been the master and checked it out while I was at it. Bed neatly made. Did he have a housekeeper? I was betting he did.
I ran a hand over some furry throw at the end of the bed that was softer than anything I’d felt in my life. I wondered if Ramsey liked a soft or firm mattress. I should find out for myself. I lifted my arms and free-fell face-first onto the mattress. Fuck, it was perfect. Firm, but not too firm. Soft, but not too soft.
I closed my eyes, deciding I’d just rest there a second.
“Hey.”
I cracked one eye. Had a second passed, or had it been longer? “Sleeping. Go away,” I mumbled into the plush comforter.
“Yeah, in my bed. Get your ass up. I put some water bottles on the bedside table in the guest room, which is where you should be heading now.” Ramsey nudged the back of my leg, and I rolled over, offering him a bleary smile. Jesus, beer goggles just made him exponentially more attractive than his baseline smoking-hot status. Especially when he was standing over me at the end of the bed. Too bad he was still wearing all his clothes and staring at me sternly.
“Sure you don’t want me to just stay?”
It was a testament to how drunk I was that, for a second, I could’ve sworn Ramsey was considering it. Then he shook his head with a chuckle.
“You’re a hot fucking mess, G. Now get your ass out of my bed.”
“Fine.” I heaved myself upright and focused on moving toward the bedroom door with as much grace as I could manage, but slowly enough to give him time to change his mind.