Just One Year - Page 7

“My room?”

“No. The washing machine in the basement. In England, we do laundry in the kitchen.”

“Oh, that’s weird. What about the dryer?”

“We don’t have one. My mum just lines the clothes up outside.”

“I can’t imagine that.”

“What, you can’t imagine your knickers flying in the wind for all the world to see?”

I chuckled. “Pretty much.”

He scratched his chin. “You’re very conservative, aren’t you?”

I probably should’ve responded to his question. Instead, I let my eyes travel down his chest, noticing the way his shirt clung to the sweaty muscles. I felt far from conservative right now.

I shook my head. “Why do you say that?”

“The way you dress—always covered up quite well from head to toe. Also, the way you reacted when we met in the men’s room at the university. You were mortified at the prospect of me thinking you were responsible for that smell.”

“Let’s not bring that up, please. We’re doing so well.”

He chuckled and wandered over to the bookshelves, which housed dozens of my old books. I hadn’t bothered to move them downstairs because I didn’t have as much space.

Brushing his index finger along some of the spines, he said, “Nice collection, by the way.”

My brow furrowed. “Is that sarcasm? I can’t tell.”

“No. You have some interesting books here. Eckhart Tolle. Deepak Chopra. It’s like self-help central. I take it you’re all…helped? Totally zen? No issues at all?”

“Not quite.”

He picked one out of the lineup. “Ten Secrets. What’s this one about?”

“It’s a self-help book,” I deadpanned.

“You don’t say.”

“The gist is that everyone is hiding at least ten secrets that keep them from truly progressing in life.”

“Ten? Is that right?”

“Yeah. Sometimes we’re not even aware we’re suppressing them.”

He looked down at the cover, then over at me. “I’ve got at least one, but I’m not sure about ten. You?”

“Of course. We all have secrets, things that fester.”

He flipped through the book. “Tell me one of yours.”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret.”

He pointed to the pages. “Yes, but according to this book, your secrets are holding you back.”

“I’ll live with the risk.”

Caleb snickered. “I have a secret you’d be interested in knowing, one that pertains to you.”

My heart fluttered. “Really?”

“Yup.” He raised his chin. “Want to know what it is?”

“Yes, I would, if it pertains to me.”

Caleb put the book back on the shelf and rubbed his hands together. “My secret is…”

He paused.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, I said, “What is it?”

“You’re definitely gonna want to hear this,” he murmured.

I laughed. “Okay…then tell me.”

He took a few steps toward me and leaned close to my ear. Chills ran through me as he said, “I know for a fact it wasn’t you who made that smell in the loo.”

I looked him in the eyes. “How?”

“Because I’d been in the men’s room earlier that morning, and it smelled exactly the same.”

“Why didn’t you say that at the time?”

“Because it was too much fun watching you squirm.” He winked. “It’s a good thing I’m living here. I’ll have a lot more chances to do that.”CHAPTER THREE* * *TEAGANLater that day, I nearly fell off the chair I’d been standing on in the kitchen when Caleb came up behind me.

“Need some help?”

I trembled as I slowly climbed down. For some reason, I’d assumed he’d left the house.

It was late in the afternoon. My father was still at work, and Maura and Shelley had left for my sister’s cheerleading practice. Classes didn’t start at Northern until the following Monday, so apparently Caleb had nothing better to do than hang here. I suppose that shouldn’t have annoyed me since he lived here now, but it did.

With Maura out of the house, I’d figured this was my opportunity to raid the candy shelf. I’d seen her stashing some bags up high the other day. She had been cracking down recently on Shelley’s and my dad’s eating habits, so I assumed she’d been hiding the sweets on the highest shelf in the kitchen. But because our ceilings were so tall and our cabinets so high, I’d underestimated the ability of this chair to get up there. Caleb had appeared in the midst of my botched effort.

“Trying to reach something?”

“Yeah, actually.” I could feel myself breaking a sweat.

He pushed the chair back to the table and scratched his chin as he looked up. As tall as Caleb was, he couldn’t reach the cupboard either.

To my shock, he knelt in front of the counter and pointed to his shoulders.

“Get on.”

“What?”

“I’ll give you a lift to get what you need.”

He wants me to get on his shoulders? “That’s okay.”

He insisted. “Hop on.”

I swallowed hard and did as he said, sitting on his shoulders and wrapping my legs around his neck. The feel of his hard muscles pressing against my clit was interesting, to say the least—pretty sure this was the ultimate cheap thrill. He rose slowly, and when he reached his full height, I was exactly where I needed to be to open the forbidden cabinet at the top.

Tags: Penelope Ward Romance
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