Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
I don't recognize the guy on the other side, but I fling it open anyway.
"Hi. Can I help you?"
"Hey." The blond giant grins at me. "Is my idiot partner here? I have his key."
"Yeah, come in," I mumble, holding the door open wide for him.
He ducks into the foyer just as Noah steps up behind me.
"Elsie, this is Jackson. Jackson, this is Elsie," Noah rumbles.
"Hi, nice to meet you." I'm not sure where to look, so I stare at my feet. It's safer that way. At least I'm not staring at anyone's dick.
"Nice to meet you, too, doll," Jackson murmurs, amusement in his voice. "I have your key, brother."
"Thought it was going to be a couple of hours before you could get here," Noah says. He sounds…annoyed? Why is he annoyed? Crap. He's probably annoyed because he thought he'd be stuck here for two hours.
"Got done early," Jackson says, his voice still laced with amusement. "Figured you'd appreciate it."
"Yeah, sure."
I risk a peek up at Noah to see him glaring at Jackson, which I don't really understand. His partner is doing him a favor. Why is he cranky about it?
Probably because you were staring at his dick like he's a piece of meat, a snarky little voice reminds me. It's probably not wrong.
"I'll be out in a minute," Noah says to Jackson.
"I guess that's my cue to get the fuck out then," Jackson smirks before giving me a tiny salute. "It was nice to meet you, Elsie."
"You too," I mumble, watching him slip out the front door before I turn to Noah. "Um…I guess you're rescued now."
"Yeah," he mutters. "Thanks for dinner, sweetness."
"Anytime."
He stares at me for a long moment, something flickering through his green eyes too quickly for me to read, and then he steps forward, brushing his lips across my cheek. "I'll see you soon, Elsie."
"You too," I whisper, fighting the urge to reach up and plant my hand right where his lips just were.
He strides toward the door, only to turn back to look at me after he wrenches it open. "I'm cooking for you next time."
"I…uh, okay?"
He disappears through the door, leaving me staring after him in shock. What the heck just happened? Is he mad that I was staring at his dick or not?
For the next week and a half, I don't even manage to catch a glimpse of Noah. Either he's at work or I am. Or he's avoiding me. I'm not entirely sure which is true. But by the time the end of my first week of classes rolls around, I'm drained.
Having a never-ending parade of sex dreams is hard work. So is trying to wrangle thirty fourteen- and fifteen-year-olds for seven hours a day. Come Friday, all I want is a hot bath, a glass of wine, and my bed.
Fate has other plans. Or maybe it's karma. Either way, the Universe is not on my side because I've been coerced into going for dinner and drinks with some of my coworkers.
At least, that's the plan until I lock myself out.
"Dammit," I grumble, the toe of my shoe thudding against the bottom of the door like that's really going to make it open. The hardwood doesn't even budge.
I glance toward Noah's house and then hesitate. If I go over there, he's probably going to think I locked myself out on purpose just to spend time with him. And as much as I'd like to see him again, I'd really like not to be seen as his crazy, stalker neighbor.
For the record, I have totally become his crazy, stalker neighbor. I watch his house so much, hoping for a glimpse of him, that I'm basically on an around-the-clock stakeout. But am I telling him that? Uh, hell no. Batman himself couldn't beat that confession out of me.
"Hide a freaking key next time," I grumble to myself, stomping toward the nearest window to see if I can shimmy it open enough to crawl through it.
"I'm going to die balanced on the railing of my porch in stilettos and a micro dress, trying to heft a window," I mutter, trying to inch forward enough to shove the stubborn window up. It moves an inch, and I feel like Superwoman.
"What the fuck are you doing, Dimples?"
"Ahh!"
This is how it ends. Right here. I tumble to my death while the hot cop across the street watches. He's going to see my Bite Me panties and probably laugh while I'm taking my last breath.
My feet slip—stupid shoes—and I list sideways, grabbing for the window like it's really going to save me or my dignity.
It doesn't. But Noah does.
I don't know how he moves so fast, but before I even tumble off the side of the railing, he's at my side, hauling me back to safety. I land against his chest in an inelegant sprawl, all flailing arms and legs. The entire neighborhood probably sees my panties.