“Fuck, Harley, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear my name on your lips as I bring you pleasure.”
No man has ever said anything close to that to me.
My heart constricts.
He said that in the heat of the moment. Nothing more. Nothing less.
I know better than to get feelings for my grumpy on the outside and kind-hearted on the inside roommate. I shouldn’t be clinging onto the one man that took me in so I wouldn’t end up living in the streets. Still, that neglected side of me that’s yearning for someone to care for her—to love her—relishes in having a successful man like Kaz say those things or look at me the way he does.
I wish I was worthy of a man like Kaz.
I wish I could be real girlfriend material.
I wish I was more than a girl with a trailer trash family.
My fucking trailer trash family.
I rub both hands over my face.
He saw the name flashing on my screen.
Kaz is going to have a thousand questions today, and I’m going to have to find a clever way to skirt every single one of them.
I hate lying, stretching the truth, or resorting to avoidance, but I don’t have a choice?—
Loud music reverberates on the other side of the door.
I frown.
It’s seven-thirty on a Sunday morning, is he watching an action movie this early?
The epic soundtrack is louder now.
Overlaid on top of it, a strange sound resonates.
Whack.
Whack.
Whack.
Whack.
What the hell?
I pull the sheet off and slide out of bed.
I slip my feet into my slippers and make my way to the door.
The music is so overwhelming, it’s like sitting in a movie theater with surround sound. I go to the bathroom, take care of business, brush my teeth, and wash my face. I grab an elastic and pile up my bed hair on top of my head.
I exit the bathroom, determined to find out what’s going on.
I follow the sound to Kaz’s home gym, located on the opposite side of the top floor, since the wall near his workout sanctuary is made of glass, I stand there dumbfounded.
Kaz is a masterpiece, wearing nothing more than navy-blue sport shorts.
Mother of God.
