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“Excuse me?” Sleeping with him on a random Sunday is one thing, but moving in with him is a whole other situation I’m sure I’m not ready for. I moved in with Brandon on a whim too, and look how that turned out.
“My other townhouse,” he corrects like he read my mind. “Next door to mine. It’s big. The family who used to live there had kids, dogs. They were louder than hell. The second the for-sale sign went up, I called the realtor and bought it. I was going to resell it. When I’m at home, I prefer peace and quiet, so I left it empty. You don’t have kids or dogs, and are fairly quiet unless I’m having sex with you against a countertop—”
I slap my hand over his mouth. He licks my palm, and I jerk my hand away. “Gross! What are you, fifteen?”
“All guys are fifteen on the inside.” His easy smile is less blinding than before, but no less captivating. He’s relaxed. Happy. I feel happy and relaxed too, and after the day I’ve had, that is a stone-cold miracle. “So what’ll it be? Am I making a condom run? Are you coming home with me tomorrow? Will you be moving into my spare townhouse?”
I shake my head at his audacity. Also, at the idea he has a “spare” townhouse. I can barely afford the apartment I rent, and I split payments with my sister. I can’t fathom purchasing a home and leaving it empty simply for peace and quiet.
“Well?” he prompts.
“Do you need answers right now?” I squeak, my nerves jangling. On one hand, I need a job, and he’s offering. On the other, moving away isn’t a decision easily made while cocooned in his warmth. I’m tempted to say yes just to earn more of his smiles, kisses, etcetera. He’s potent.
“I can wait on the last two, but the condom issue needs your immediate attention.”
Before I can address said “condom issue,” I hear keys jiggle in the knob, the front door open and close, and a pair of voices.
“My sister is home,” I tell Archer.
And she’s not alone.
