Cracking the door open, I cross my arms over my chest. It's bloody freezing.
He doesn’t keep me waiting for long, probably taking the stairs two at a time, but you wouldn’t think it since he’s not even out of breath. It must just be me who is seriously unfit. I’m surrounded by fit people. I believe there is only one reason to run: if you’re being chased.
But I like swimming, the last time I went was with Max and Char. Wow, I seriously need to do something about that.
“Earth to Violet.”
I roll my eyes and move aside. He smiles down, stepping past me.
“Were you mesmerised by my manly physique?” he asks.
“No,” I reply, latching the door and watching as he kicks off his trainers. Wow, he has enormous feet. And the thought makes my face heat.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t you,” I say deadpan.
“Thanks.”
I shove him forward, and I know he only moved because he wanted to, otherwise, he’d still be rooted to the spot.
He makes his way to the living room and then turns.
“Here, I got this.” He holds out a blue carrier bag. My eyes flick between it and him. “It won’t bite,” he says with a deep, sexy chuckle.
Gingerly, I take it and look inside and can’t help but smile as I place it on the table and pull out the contents.
A bottle of Moscato, a large bar of Dairy Milk WholeNut, tortilla chips, and dip. And a bottle of Dr Pepper.
“Oh, that one's mine,” he says, taking the Dr Pepper from me. “The rest is to share.”
I don’t really know what to say, but it doesn’t matter, he’s already sitting down in my spot on the sofa.
“Cool t-shirt,” he says, picking it up. “Didn’t know you were a Guns N’ Roses fan.”
Well, I’m notnota fan.
“It was my brother’s.”
He tilts his head to the side, his features softening.
“Max?”
I nod and bite my lip. “Yeah, I was at my parents’ for dinner, and I snuck in his room, or should I say shrine. Stole it from his chest of drawers.” Why I just admitted that, I have no fucking idea.
He holds it out to me with no judgement on his face.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” he says and unscrews his Dr Pepper, taking a sip. “What are we watching?” he asks, looking at the TV.
“Nothing, I was watching Nightmare Neighbours.”
He just chuckles to himself, grabbing the remote, perfectly at home.
“How did you know where I live, anyway?” I ask.
Reaching out, he grabs the bag of tortilla chips, tearing it open. “You want to get a couple of bowls?”
Making my way to the kitchen, I grab two bowls and a spoon for the dip.
“And to answer your question, I dropped Ethan here once.”
