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I’m a dumbass.
That’s the only excuse I have for inviting her to be my new roommate.
Sierra Lane is an itch I’ve been struggling to scratch for years.
The first time the barely legal eighteen-year-old snuck into my bar, I owned it less than a year. I had been stressed about pouring all my savings into a business I wasn’t sure would survive. On top of that, an employee pulled a no-call, no-show. I was headed to my office to find a replacement, and there she was.
I knew her. Everyone did. Her parents showed her off at every town event.
The first thought when I saw her shouldn’t have been how gorgeous she was while I followed her path. I wasn’t sure of her age, but I knew it wasn’t old enough to be in a bar. When we got face-to-face, I took in her every feature. Her face was slightly sun-kissed, and the only hint of makeup she wore was red lipstick. A sprinkle of faint freckles scattered along her cheeks, and I loved that she didn’t cover them up.
She stared at me with wide, innocent eyes. I knew she was used to getting her way as she tried to talk me out of not kicking her out. I’d wondered if I was the first person to tell her no—though technically, I hadn’t done that either.
As much as our cat-and-mouse game pisses me off, it also entertains the fuck out of me. And since then, every time she’s stepped into my bar, my heart speeds up. It’s more than arousal that crashes through me when she plops her pretty ass onto a stool. She pushes my buttons and never fails to make me laugh, and nothing is more attractive than seeing her possessiveness come out when other women flirt with me. I hold myself back from telling her I don’t want them, that I wanther.
The issue is, I shouldn’t.
She’s too young for me, we come from different backgrounds, and it’d never work. We’re infatuated with each other—and that’s how it’ll stay. We’ll never pass that.
“Care to explain why Rebel Barbie is dragging an expensive-looking suitcase up to your apartment?” Liz asks, storming into my office.
There are two entrances into the apartment—an entrance on the other side of the building with stairs that lead straight to the apartment and another at the back of the bar. I’ll remind Sierra to use the side entrance for more privacy.
Liz is scowling at me when I look up from my paperwork, prepared to hear her bitch my head off. For unknown reasons, she doesn’t like Sierra. Liz said she doesn’t want me to get hurt even though I’ve made it clear that my relationship with Sierra is strictly platonic.
I lean back in my chair and rest my arms behind my neck. “She left her husband, had nowhere to go, so I offered the guest bedroom until she figures it out.”
“Have you lost your fucking mind?”
I shrug.Yes. Yes, I have.
“She has money, and her family is royalty here. She can find a rental in a day,orI’m sure she has friends or family who wouldn’t mind her staying with them.”
“Her parentshave money, not her, and she doesn’t want to stay with anyone else.” I rub the back of my neck. “Why are you concerned? Do you plan on moving back in?”
We grew up in the apartment above the bar. Every childhood memory I have is there—good and bad. My dad moved to Florida after signing the bar over to me, and Liz and my niece left a year later. Now, it’s just me—not that I’m complaining. I’ve declined all rental offers until Sierra. Hell, hers was an offerfrom me.
I was shocked when I threw out the invitation. I enjoy my space and privacy since I’m surrounded by people all the time. Customers love nothing more than coming to the bar and venting out their sad songs to the bartender. It’s a motherfucking cliché.
“Negative,” she answers. “My concern isyou.”
“You have no reason to worry about me.”
“I made it clear she was bad news when she playedLittle Miss Helper, and it’s an even worse idea to play house with her. If she’s too busy having brunch and manicures with her friends, I’ll gladly look up rentals for her.”
Shit.The wrath of my big sister has never been pretty.
“Be nice to her,” I warn.
She pinches her lips together. “I’lltryto, but I won’t keep my mouth shut if it goes south.”
“Nothing is going south.” Except for my hand to my dick plenty of times while masturbating to the thought of Sierra in the other room.
“Yeah, yeah. Now, we have another order of business.”
“What’s up?”
“I’m visiting Dad.”
