Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 86596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Dude. I’m trying to work, and you don’t seem to possess boundaries.”
I don’t seem to possess boundaries? I AM THE KING OF BOUNDARIES!
I INVENTED BOUNDARIES.
“Yeah but…but…” I stutter. “That doesn’t mean you should zap me with your taser.”
The brows shoot up farther. “Doesn’t it?”
“Okay, fine. Point taken.” I step back a few feet. “I came up here for a reason, and it wasn’t just to hide, although I’m definitely hiding. My sister, Kate, made me come because she doesn’t think I socialize enough with normal people, but her girlfriends are hounding me. I didn’t come here to pick up chicks.”
“Chicks?”
Oh shit. Bad choice of words.
“Er, I mean—young women. Women. Er, a date. I didn’t come here to find a date.”
Shit. I’m fucking this up so bad, and I can see by the glint in her eye that she’s the type that would shoot me in the ass with a tranquilizer dart on a lark the first chance she got.
“Get to the point.”
I thought I had. Multiple times.
“I heard you tell the blonde—uh, Claire—that you’re not a wingman. And I watched how you fended her off, and I thought to myself, “Eli, you need a girl like that in your life.”
“Girl?”
Ugh, fuck. “Young woman,” I amend. “Female. I need a female like you in my life. You would literally be the best wingman—er, woman—I’ve ever had. I need you.”
“For what?”
“To fend off women like Claire and the other one.” I motion with my thumb toward the stairs. “And possibly one or two more who were in the kitchen undressing me with their eyes.” I don’t tell her this, but one of my sister’s friends actually groped my ass when I was passing through the kitchen to get to the food in the dining room—which I’ve had happen at bars, but never in someone’s home. I pause. “What’s your name, by the way? It feels rude going on and on and asking you for a favor when I don’t know your name.”
Her head is a slow shake. “You’re in my house, and you don’t even know my name?”
“Forgive me?” I plead.
“You’re in my house, you don’t know my name—and you’re asking for favors. Tsk, tsk.”
“My name is Elias.” I don’t bother sticking out my hand for her to shake it because she’d just smack it away.
She shifts on her feet on the other side of the threshold. “I know.”
I pause, disconcerted. She’s got me feeling a bit off my game, or—self-conscious even.
The woman sighs heavily. “I’m Molly.”
I don’t bother giving her my megawatt smile—the one that wins hearts from coast to coast and men and women alike—because I already know she’s nonplussed and unimpressed by me.
“Hold on one second.” When she disappears from sight into the room, I try to get a peek inside. It’s an office, alright, with a large desk and bookshelves lining the walls and two computer monitors glowing from within. “I’m hungry.”
I glance down at the offering—the plate that was once laden with food has now mostly grapes on it and a handful of almonds.
Her gaze is expectant, arm extending the plate as I pluck a grape off and pop it in my mouth.
Chew.
Molly stares.
“What?”
She has a poker face that reveals nothing. “Would you be a doll and grab me more cheese?”
“You want me to fetch you more cheese?”
Her head tilts. “And maybe some more bread. I know I said I wasn’t going to eat carbs this week, but I’m under a lot of pressure.” The plate gets thrust through the crack in the door farther, her eyes leveling mine with a hard directive. “And you did want me to consider that favor…?”
Slowly, I take the plate.
“Thanks.”
Then the door clicks closed.
three
molly
Smirking, I go back to my desk, the look on Elias’s stunned face the perfect end to a semi-productive night.
It’s almost impossible to accomplish anything with the noise from downstairs, but I’ve been giving it my best. And the last thing I expected was for some random guy to come sniffing around where he wasn’t invited—the upstairs of the house—so putting him in his place feels amazing.
This isn’t a fraternity party, dude, I wanted to say. Stay where you’re welcome.
And he’s not welcome up here.
This is private—especially my bedroom and office.
“I wouldn’t just wander around someone’s house that I was invited to!” I mutter, stalking back to my desk and flopping down in my chair. “Freaking rude.”
Still. He was eager to fetch me more food, and it worked out rather conveniently having him arrive at my door, as intrusive as he is.
Elias Cohen isn’t a man woman often turned down—that much is obvious.
I mean—downstairs, Claire and Alexa couldn’t keep their eyes off him and even wanted help approaching him. Who is this guy?! A sports agent, that’s who.
In front of me, my computer comes to life when I scroll around the mouse pad with my hand, typing in a search engine and “Elias Cohen agent."