Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
My heart speeds up.
That hazy feeling spreads through me once again.
I’m not prepared to analyze it. To face it.
So I do something impulsive.
I lean across the fence, and I press a kiss to her forehead.
I tell myself it’s friendly.
But the summertime scent of her hair—her perfume, her lotion, whatever it is—seeps into my senses, intoxicating me. She’s champagne, and I want to drink the whole bottle.
I pull away, rasping out a “Good night, Skylar.”
I head back into my house with my dog before I do something truly dangerous—like hauling my neighbor over the fence and asking her to come inside with me.
In the morning, I stand on my second-floor balcony, moving past the edge of the hot tub and drinking my morning smoothie—but really, I’m looking for her.
Fuck it, I’m spying. Shamelessly spying. Trying to get a sense of when she might walk her dog so I can casually join her like it’s just a coincidence.
I down some more of the kale concoction, hoping the nutrients knock some sense into me, then…finally. I spot her moving around the kitchen with purpose—possibly getting ready to walk the dog. In no time, I dart downstairs, leash up mine, and head out the front door.
Yes!
Skylar trots down her steps, a hoodie sloping off her shoulder, jean shorts on, earbuds in. She holds Simon’s leash in one hand, and the other gestures wildly with her phone. She’s entirely focused on venting her thoughts to someone on a call. “Landon sent me an email this morning! They invited me to their opening!”
I growl. Poisoning is too good for her ex.
I walk the other way. I need time to think, but it doesn’t take long, so I double back a few blocks later.
When Skylar returns home, I’m waiting on her front porch. “The store opening is next weekend?”
Startled, she stops on the stone path. “How do you know?”
“I googled new board game stores and found his,” I say.
“Oh. Impressive.”
“Not really. I’m determined.” I hold her gaze. “If you don’t want to go to it, no problem. But if you decide to go…” I pause for effect. “I’ll be your date.”
15
SEXY FROG
SKYLAR
Did my hot-as-hell, lucky-yellow-shorts-wearing, sun-saluting, stern-but-secretly-sweet, gruff-but-incredibly-giving, dog-loving, aspiring-assassin neighbor just ask me out?
“For the poisoning?” I ask, blinking…in shock, I think?
Yes, my heart is slamming against my rib cage. My skin is as hot as a forest fire. And my chest is tingling.
Wait, nope, you dumbass, that’s not shock. That’s—gasp—arousal.
Because…Ford Devon asked me on a date. Whether it’s a poisoning date or not, who cares?
“We can bring a plant. Just for fun though,” Ford adds, like he needs to keep the hitwoman in me in check. He rises from the stairs and strides closer while keeping Zamboni far, far away from Simon, who’s wiggling on his leash like his tail is a high-speed metronome.
“Right. For fun.” My head spins as I try to process this twist in my morning.
I drag a hand through my…ugh. The nest on my head. My hair is twisted into a messy bun, and I really need to remember to dress better for dog walks. Pretty sure that’s one of the rules of having a sexy neighbor. You can no longer leave your house looking like you just rolled out of bed. Mascara is a must. Brushes are your friend.
“Yes, for fun, because that would be the point. To walk into his store opening that the prick invited you to and show him how much fun you’re having without him.”
Ford has a look in his eyes like he’s ready to plow down any defenseman in his way on the ice. The idea is enticing, but my brain snags on one detail. How does he know I was invited?
Then, it hits me. “Oh! You must’ve heard me talking to Mabel when I was leaving the house.”
“You were speaking kind of loudly, so I don’t think it counts as eavesdropping.”
“You’re right. It’s not eavesdropping when somebody is ranting at their bestie. That’s fair game,” I say.
But…does spying from a catio as someone works out come under the fair game umbrella? Do I need to tell him about that? I came close to confessing last night. I nearly blurted out all my voyeuristic transgressions. Then he was touching my chin and kissing my forehead, and I’m pretty sure my brain turned to pudding.
“And it’s also fair game to take you on a date in front of your dickhead ex. Landon,” Ford says, his lips twisting when he says Landon’s name, then twitching up into a grin, as if he really likes the idea of…taking me on a date. My stomach flips in the best of ways. I think I truly like the idea too.
But I want to be sure I’m understanding him correctly. “Supposedly, there will be some press there. Well, from that neighborhood site that covered him already. You want to take me on a date to his store? Like a fake date?” I ask to clarify, while Simon tugs on his leash, desperately trying to say hi to the Shepherd Corgi.