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John Temple already won my heart.
But it’s too late when I realize he only did it to ruin me.
I might be going mad, but this sounds vaguely familiar. I swallow hard at the name of the new novel,Sharki.
This is just a coincidence, I tell myself.
A fucking coincidence.
I jump to the intro where the main heroine tells the story of how John Temple saved her from an attacker on the street one dark night. My stomach turns at the words.
As promised, John comes back the next day.
In the daylight, he looks different. A little older than me, with dark eyes, messy hair, and glasses.
Wait a second…
His hoodie and jeans are black. An unlit cigarette hangs between his full lips. His dark gaze pierces me as he stands in the hallway of my apartment and doesn’t even look around like he’s not interested in the room he’s about to rent. Like he came herefor me.
Why does it make me nervous?
Why do I like it so much?
“Rent is $3000,” I tell him.
“Deal.”
Oh, man…
I close my eyes and recall our conversation when I rented my room. I repeat it in my head, open my eyes, and read the next line.
“No parties. No smoking inside. I don’t like smoke.”
Yep, that one.
My heart stalls for a moment.
“Deal.”
“Please, take off your shoes—”
“—by the door. I don’t have a cleaning lady”—I remember every fucking word she said.
“I hope we get along,” I say.
A tiny smile curves his lips. “We’ll get along just fine, Miss Aberdeen.”
He tosses his bag onto the floor.
“And cleaning is part of the deal,” I say, glancing at the bag.
“Yes, ma’am.” He finally looks around. “Is it always so hot here?”
Since you got here, yes.
Our eyes meet.
He reaches behind him and pulls his hoodie over his head.
