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)
"Jesus Christ, Dimples," Noah grunts, trying to contain me before I manage to knee him in the balls for a second—or maybe a third—time.
"You shouldn't sneak up on people!" I cry, because yes, let's blame the man who just saved your life. That's real helpful, Elsie Jean.
"I didn't sneak," he says, setting me on my feet. "I walked. You were too busy doing some fucked up balance beam routine to notice. What the fuck were you doing climbing in those shoes?"
"Trying to open the window."
"Uh, you're supposed to do that from inside, Dimples."
"Igotlockedout."
"What?" He tips his head down, his green eyes meeting mine.
"I got locked out."
"Ah," he says, his lips slowly curving into what can only be described as an annoyingly hot smirk. "And you thought killing yourself trying to break in would be better than asking to use my phone?"
"No." Yes. But I'm not telling him that. Please. I have a smidge of dignity left right now. I'll fight a damn bear to keep it at this point. "I thought I could crawl through the window. I didn't know you were home."
"Right." His smirk grows. "How'd you get locked out?"
"I forgot my keys." I narrow my eyes at him. "I don't remember asking you so many questions when you locked yourself out."
"That's because you were there when it happened, and you know it was your fault."
I splutter at him, which only makes him laugh. And God, I've missed that sound. I barely even know him, and I'm already addicted to his laugh.
This is not good.
"Come on, Simone Biles," he mutters, placing his hands on my shoulders to shuffle me off to the side. "Out of the way so I can break into your place."
"Don't fall," I say. It's supposed to be helpful advice, but judging from the look he shoots me, maybe I should have kept it to myself.
Unlike me, Noah is graceful and clearly far more skilling at breaking into places. He manages to slide the window open in one push without even having to stretch for it. And then he has the audacity to wink at me before he hauls himself inside.
"Don't go through my stuff!" I shout as he disappears inside.
His laughter floats back to me.
It takes him less than thirty seconds to unlock the door for me. He opens it with a flourish, stepping aside like he's presenting royalty at a damn ball or something.
"I could have done it," I mumble as I sail past him.
"It was supposed to be locked."
Well…shit.
"I forgot."
"Stop forgetting, or I won't be the only man to crawl through your window," he practically growls, disapproval heavy in his voice. "You live alone. I'm not always home. You need to be more careful."
He's probably not wrong, and he actually sounds worried about it.
"I will," I promise softly, opting not to tease him. "I had it open earlier and just forgot to lock it back, that's all."
He grunts and then glances around. "You finished unpacking."
"Yep," I confirm.
"Looks good."
"Thanks." I shift from foot to foot, tugging the bottom of my dress down as if that'll make it longer. "Um…how have you been?"
"Busy. Been working a case."
"Oh." I guess that's why he's barely been home. "Are you still working it?"
"Nah. We found our suspect this morning."
"Congratulations."
"Thanks." He pauses. "You want to come over for dinner? I seem to recall owing you a meal."
"I…" I'd love to have dinner with him, but I can't. "I can't. I have plans."
"Oh." There's a flicker of something in his gaze that I almost think is jealousy, but then he shrugs. "Next time, then."
"Yeah, sure." I hesitate, unsure of what to say to stall him a little longer. Truthfully, I'd rather have dinner with him than go out with my coworkers. They're nice enough, but they kind of spent all week treating me like a novelty. "Um…I guess I should go then."
"You sure?" He cocks a brow at me, his gaze flickering across my face. "You seem off."
"I'm not off," I protest. "I'm just…" I huff. "Okay, maybe I don't really want to go."
"Why not? Is your date not your type?"
"It's not a date." I roll my eyes at him. "It's dinner and drinks with some of the other teachers."
"Ah," he says as if that explains everything.
"Everyone is super nice and welcoming, but I'm the new girl from Texas." I lean close to him to admit the truth. "I feel like the ape at the zoo, the one everyone just has to see because he flings his own poop at you."
He snorts with laughter before his gaze rakes down my body. "Dimples, the last place you belong is in a zoo, flinging your own shit at screaming toddlers. But if you aren't feeling it, don't go. Tell them you got locked out and have to wait for your neighbor to rescue you."