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“One’s my office.”
AJ grins. “That still leaves two free.”
I look to my cousin for help, but the bastard is smirking at me like this is the best thing he’s ever witnessed. Probably because he’s fully aware just how much having a woman live with me would cramp my style—especially if I’m going to be knocking someone up within the next year.
“I don’t know,” I hedge, but the little blue-haired she-demon plows on like I didn’t even speak.
“It’s really a win-win. What do you think?” she asks Stacia, leading me to realize that she hasn’t said a word about this hare-brained plan.
“I…uh. Um, well.” She blows out a heavy breath. “It doesn’t seem like something West is interested in.”
My cousin’s wife pins me with a hard glare. “West. Surely you could offer up your spare room to a friend in need for a while?” Damn, this girl is good at a guilt trip.
I turn to look at the woman in question as she shakes her head in refusal. I immediately take notice of her furrowed brow and slumped shoulders. Stacia looks so fucking defeated that something in me breaks.
“Don’t worry about it,” Stacia murmurs at the same time I say, “Sure. Why not?”
AJ fist pumps the air before doing a little shimmy that leads into jazz hands, showboating like she just scored a game-winning touchdown and the extra fucking point.
“I knew you’d come around,” she says triumphantly before hooking her fingers into the collar of Brock’s white T-shirt. “C’mon, Jockstrap, let’s leave them to hammer out the details.”
My cousin lights up like a kid on Christmas morning, knowing full well he’s about to get laid for the second time this morning.
At the sound of their bedroom door closing, Stacia leaps into action. “I’ll be fine. You do not have to let me stay with you. Seriously, West. You know AJ, she gets an idea and she’s…”
“Like a dog with a bone,” I supply, and we both sport knowing grins.
“Yeah, that.” She rises from her stool to carry her mug to the sink, and my eyes drop to her ass. Never would’ve said baggy, ratty sweats were sexy, but the way hers cling to her ass, combined with the image of her wrapped in that tiny towel have me feeling some kind of way—horny, it has me horny.
It doesn’t help that I’ve been thinking about her tits for the last year or so, ever since our little back seat hookup at the river when Brock and AJ were figuring their shit out. Perky and high, tipped with tight rosy nipples, mmm—my mouth waters at the thought.
“West? Are you listening?”
Nope, I was too busy being visited by the ghost of make-out sessions past. “Sorry, come again?” I can’t help but snigger at my phrasing, because hot damn, I’d love to make Stacia Kellan come again—and again and again.
“I was saying you really don’t have to let me stay with you. It’s not a big deal.”
Her words are saying one thing, but her kicked-puppy tone is saying another. “Oh, yeah? Then what are you gonna do?”
She shrugs, trying for nonchalant, but I can see straight through her false bravado. “Get a sleeping bag? Sleep in my car? Rent a room? The possibilities are endless.”
I shake my head at her. Stubborn, sexy spitfire. “Or, you could just rent my room?”
“You’re only offering because you feel like you have to. I don’t want to cause you any problems, and I’m sure as shit not a charity case.”
“Listen, you have pride; I can respect that. But you need help right now, and I’m—begrudgingly—willing to lend it.”
She whirls around to face me, her brown eyes flashing with anger. “I don’t want or need your begrudging help.”
I’m about to rebuff her again when she stomps out of the kitchen and down the hall to the guest room, where she promptly slams the door.
I trail after her, rapping my knuckles against the woodgrain. “Stacia,” I call out but she doesn’t reply. “C’mon.” I try the knob, but she locked it.
Shit. If I don’t figure out a way to fix this, Abby Jane will never ever let me hear the end of it. However, as much as I want to press the issue, I’m smart enough to know that pushing her right now will not result in favorable results. So, I do the only thing I can—retreat to the living room to wait her out. And hey, if I slip in a game of Madden or two, no harm, no foul, right? Plus, it’s not like I have anything else to do today.
Chapter Seven
Stacia
As much as it pains me to admit it, West is right. The only thing stopping me from agreeing to move in with him is my pride. It might have been different if he wouldn’t have been so openly opposed to it when AJ suggested it—not that I blame him, because what hot, single guy would want some chick crashing at his place and cramping his style? None, that’s how many, absolutely none.
