Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I wring the mop out and put it out on the deck that leads off the kitchen. When I close the door, I walk back to the sink to wash my hands.
“Is he okay? Physically, I mean,” Simone asks.
“Yeah, I think so,” I tell her as I pour a generous amount of dish soap on my hands. I fucking hate vomit and I feel like it’s all over me.
As I’m scrubbing my hands, Simone says, “Thank you for taking care of him.”
Her words punch into me…straight through me at the soft gratitude in her voice. It’s a far cry from the sassy talk, overt flirting, and sexual come-ons she’s been dropping like bombs all around me. It’s definitely not the same woman who whipped her shirt off so shamelessly four days ago. I hope to fuck she never finds out I’ve been jacking off to the thought of her amazingly fantastic tits since then, or she’ll never leave me alone.
Christ, I didn’t want her in my head, but she’s firmly planted there now. How could she not be when she’s always in my face, taunting me and then showing me her delectable body? When Lucas has been staying nights at Stephanie’s, Simone prances around in a tight T-shirt and little boy-short panties. I don’t hide my eyes because I’ll never give her the satisfaction she’s getting to me, but I do put on my blandest, most bored expression when I look at her. In turn, this frustrates her and she’ll usually stomp off and hide in Lucas’s bedroom.
But I appreciate her gratitude toward me. Simple words of thanks and not a single fucking thing in it for her. She’s truly sharing her appreciation for the friendship I extended to Lucas tonight, and nothing more.
“Not a problem,” I respond curtly, hoping that doesn’t encourage her to talk further.
“What happened to the wall?” she asks curiously as I nab a few paper towels to dry my hands.
I turn to look at it and smile wryly at her. “Your brother took exception to your lasagna. Hurled it in a fit of anger.”
“Oh,” she says as she stares at the pathetic attempt I’d made to clean it.
Her expression is clearly troubled, so I feel compelled to add, “I started to clean it up, but then he got sick. I’ve been nursing him on and off.”
“It’s okay,” she says distractedly, still staring at the wall. “I’ll scrub it tomorrow.”
I’m not liking this Simone Fournier. She stands before me now looking all lost and helpless, and there’s something unfurling inside of me that wants to make that better for her. The smart-ass but extremely sexual creature who I’ve been subjected to these past two and a half weeks is hard as hell to deal with. She’s not just hard to handle, but she’s dangerous to some extent, and not just because she’s offering sex. I can get that anywhere, on any given day, and have been on several occasions since she’s moved in.
So what if I’m thinking of her while banging some other chick.
But this young woman who is genuinely worried about her brother strikes a chord within me for some reason. I think perhaps it feels a little similar to the way that Etta cares for me and vice versa.
“He’ll be fine,” I tell her, and she finally turns her head to look at me.
She gives me the faintest of smiles and a nod of her head. “Yeah. Sure.”
I nod back at her, not sure if I like this stoically sad Simone. I’d almost rather have her come on to me right now, but I don’t dare think that. Karma is a mean bitch.
Turning away from me, Simone heads out of the kitchen without another word. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why I have this overwhelming urge to run after her and ask her, Are you really okay? Because you don’t seem okay. This isn’t the rotten little deviant trying to get into my pants and it’s freaking me out.
But I don’t.
I let her walk quietly into the bathroom, where I can hear her start the shower. I’ve been awake on some nights when we’ve had home games, and I’ve heard her shower when she comes home from work in the early morning hours. She apparently has some job bartending or something like that.
Or at least that’s what I think Lucas told me, but I didn’t really listen all that closely to him. I was trying to keep all fucking interest in his sister to an absolute minimum.
Yes, I often hear Simone come in at night because I’m a light sleeper and because just her soft steps in the hallway irritate me. That irritation burrows deeper within me when I hear that shower start, and then I turn it inward when I start to get aroused at the thought of her in that shower.