Page 130 of Hooking a Hottie


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When I saw Tad’s big, frog-like face staring right into the camera, I almost threw up.

He waved at the camera.

He knew I was staring at him.

He pressed the button again.

Fuck.

I rushed down the stairs and opened the front door, instantly regretting not having a plausible excuse to chase Tad away.

Then again, this was Tad.

If I told him I had my period, he would rush off to the store and come back with all kinds of supplies.

Believe me, it was far from romantic when it was from someone you did not want to be involved with. Not everything is a fucking rom-com movie.

“Tad, this isn’t a good time,” I said.

“I know that, Sage. No time ever is anymore.”

“Tad, I have the place to myself. I just-”

“All alone in a big house,” he said with a smirk.

He placed his hand to the door.

Chills danced down my back.

I was more than prepared to smack, kick, and fillet Tad’s ass into mincemeat if I needed to protect myself.

I just hated to even have the thought of it.

“Cup of coffee,” he said.

“I’m maxed out on caffeine for the day.”

“Water.”

“No.”

“Wine…?”

“Tad.”

“I can’t help it, Sage. The way I care. It’s okay to push me away. Let me be your target. Let me be your punching bag through this.”

Again, not romantic at all when it’s from someone you don’t want.

I shook my head. “You don’t understand.”

“No?” Tad asked. “Who do you think got me into the business. My grandfather did. I remember as a kid working on furniture with him. That’s how we started out. Handmade stuff. When I lost him…”

Tad’s jaw tightened.

Oh, no. He can’t start crying right now. Please… don’t cry, Tad. I can’t watch this grown man weep.

My phone started to ring.

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