The Roommate Switch (Insta-love Standalone) - Page 3

“Right, your sister. And where is she exactly? She told me was going to be here yesterday.”

“You haven't talked to her?”

“No. I tried to call her, but all I got was her voice mail. I just figured her phone died or something.”

He takes a small step forward, looming over me like a sexually charged wire . The temperature feels like it's rising. My hands are clammy and sweat is beading up on the back of my neck.

Why is it so damn hot in this apartment?

“Betty got hurt. She's in the hospital—”

“Oh my God! Is she okay? What happened?”

He holds out his hand and pats the air. “Don't worry, she's okay. She got in a car accident. Some asshole wasn't paying attention and rear ended her while she was stopped at a red light. She's pretty beaten up. Her leg is broke, and she got a decent gash on her head.”

“But she's all right?”

“She's fine. Trust me, that girl is tough. I've tried to get rid of her since we were kids, it hasn't worked yet.” He chuckles, giving me a thick smile that makes two dimples crease at the corners of his mouth.

I'm in awe. He's beautiful. I know that's not usually how most would describe a hot guy, but this guy isn't just hot, he's fucking gorgeous. My belly swirls into knots as he relaxes his arms and lets them hang at his sides. Every muscle ripples as he moves, like waves in the ocean.

“So, until she's back to one hundred percent, I'm your roomie for now.”

My jaw falls open and I open my eyes wide. “What did you say?” I didn't hear him right. He must mean something else.

“That's right, you and me. I'm going to live here until she's back on her feet. Literally.” He grins again, those damn dimples popping on his cheeks making my heart skip a beat.

“You and me?” I ask, pointing between us.

“That's what I said.” He turns to his left, and points at a door. “That's your room. I'll be right across the hall. So, if you need anything—anything at all, don't hesitate to ask.”

“I won't need anything. I don't ask for help. I can do things on my own.”

“Whoa,” he says, holding up open palms. “Calm down now, I'm just being polite.”

Polite is one thing, but I don't want him thinking that just because I'm here, that I'll become his friend with benefits or something. I know how men think. And I know by the looks of him that he's a guy who knows he's good looking and might be used to getting what he wants.

I'm not that kind of girl. Drawing the line in the sand now is best for both of us. He needs to know upfront.

“Well, even so, don't go getting any ideas. We're roommates.” I slice my hand through the air, making sure he gets my point. “That's it. So, you better behave yourself.”

2

Dash

“So, let me get this straight. You're saying that you might not be able to control yourself around me? Am I getting that right?” I hold my smirk, giving her a deadpan stare.

Anna scoffs, her pretty green eyes exploding open. “What? No! That's not what I'm saying at all.” Her cheeks flush the sexiest shade of red, and her hands are wrangling each other at her waist.

“I'm pretty sure that's exactly the point you're making,” I say as I walk past her, purposely brushing the side of her arm with my shoulder. “I mean, honestly, I can't be responsible for what you try to do.” I open the fridge, completely aware of the shock and embarrassment on her face.

She's staring at me like I'm insane for even mentioning this, but I saw the way she looked at me when she came through that door. We both know what she was and is still thinking.

She wants me. I can see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice.

The way she's all flustered and her skin is blushing. That doesn't happen for no reason.

Not that I'm some kind of angel. Her auburn hair, braided into a long rope against her back, would be perfect to wrap around my hand and tug. Her big emerald eyes and plump glossy lips caught me instantly.

She has a small beauty mark on her right cheek, and curves that would drop any man to his knees. Anna's wearing a jean skirt and cowgirl boots with a flowy top that sits just high enough on her waist that when she lifts her hands as she speaks, I get a nice peek of her belly.

But her accent. . . Fuck, that accent is hot as hell. Southern twang, the kind that just bleeds sweet innocence.

I pull out the jug of milk, take a giant gulp, and lean back against the counter. She looks like a deer in headlights. Her eyes are big as saucers and her mouth is partially hanging open.

Tags: Penny Wylder Romance
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