So many abs.
I force my gaze back to my phone and swipe right for shits and gigs. “Oh, look! We matched!” A zesty little thrill tingles in my stomach.
His dark eyebrows slam down. Unfortunately, so does his shirt. “How is that possible?”
Okay, at first, I was skeptical, but now I genuinely think Elliott might not have been behind this dating profile. Am I disappointed? Sure. Not as disappointed as I am about the abs being gone. Wonder if he’d notice if I screen-shotted this picture…for posterity.
“Maybe August went through and liked everyone. I bet you have a ton of messages.” If I came across his profile, I’d think he was too good to be true. Yeah, showing off the abs is a little douchey, but those abs would be worth at least a first date.
His gaze flies up to meet mine. “Really? Shit. How do I find out?”
The eyes, Loren! Don’t look directly into his eyes!I drop my gaze back to my phone. “You’ll need to log into the account.”
Man, would I love to peek behind the curtain at what women send to men like Elliott. I mean, I know the kinds of messagesIget (unsolicited dick pics are gross), but hopefully the fairer sex has a bit more class.
Elliott slides his phone from his pocket. “That fucker. I’m going to get him back for this.”
Maybe it’s because I’ve been duped recently, but I have to ask, “You really didn’t make this profile?” Why would anyone go through the hassle of creating a fake profile, even as a joke, especially since Elliott had no idea it was even there?
He looks appalled. “Absolutely not. And mint chocolate chip? I fucking hate mint chocolate chip.”
“You could probably press charges. I’m pretty sure making a fake profile is illegal.”
“And make the holidays awkward? My mom would never forgive me. No, this calls for something better.” The wicked curve of his lips sends my stomach into a nosedive. “Revenge.”
CHAPTER 34
ELLIOTT
Chaos
How much mint chip do you need?
One of themain reasons I never considered finding a roommate was because I wanted to avoid awkward situations in my own home.
Now I’ve walked right into one of the most awkward situations of all.
Loren left her phone on the counter, and I happened to be walking by when her friend texted. It’s not my fault she has no privacy settings in place so that any random pair of eyes can read whatever messages come in.
So here I am, standing in the middle of the kitchen, spoon of peanut butter in hand, not knowing what the hell to do with myself until she gets out of the shower.
Great. Now I’m imagining her in my shower. Naked. Water cascading down her?—
Nope. Nope.Nope.
Let’s see what I need to get from the grocery store. I shove the spoon into my mouth and throw open the fridge, scouring the groceries Loren bought earlier this week.
Still pretty stocked up, so this distraction was a bust.
Now her phone is lighting up again, and I’m not a saint, okay? I’m a man with flaws, and I need to know what it says.Boom. Another text from her friend Meg.
God, how does this woman have so many notifications? Don’t those little red numbers drive her insane?
2,567 unread emails?
I am living with a psychopath.
The bathroom door finally opens, and Loren slips out in a fuzzy purple robe, reminding me of that dinosaur that used to be popular with kids way back when. Her head stays down, but when I call her name, she freezes.
