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This is just how I want the night to wrap up; kicking back after grading papers with crap TV and a nice cheap glass of wine spells perfection to me. After my sleepless night last night, I was ready to get off my feet for the evening and just empty my mind of everything.
My mind has been overloaded since Chase walked out of my classroom with his family. Him coming into my room was the last thing I expected. I was ready to give him a dress down when he changed his tone.
Then there was that kiss.
Rolling my eyes, I down more of theNew Agewine I picked up on my way home. I needed this. While some women shop or eat copious amounts of chocolate to settle their nerves, nothing calms me quite like a few glasses—or a bottle—of wine. It’s something I inherited from my mom and grandma. After I turned twenty-one, buying my own and having a glass by myself was nice rather than constantly going to either of them.
No, they didn’t let me drink all the time. We would share a glass at family dinners or on special occasions, and I was always cut off after half a glass. But when I became legal, it changed. Now, I try to keep a bottle in stock all the time.
Sighing, I cuddle under the warm blanket I’m wrapped up in.
“I can’t believe I said yes to him.” I groan, wishing Lorelei could be here, but the man her mother is forcing her to see had her busy with some fancy dinner his upper-class family does.
I’m a glutton for punishment regarding matters of the heart and Chase. How many times do I have to go through the hell he puts me in to finally get the picture?
I was doing just fine before he came home.
He’s already proving he hasn’t changed. I’ve been home for two hours, and there hasn’t been a call—albeit, he doesn’t have my number in the first place—and he hasn’t stopped by. Reasons like he’s busy working on the ranch and other excuses like that flicker through my mind, but I’ll remain skeptical until he proves me wrong.
Turning down the volume because the last thing I want is my neighbors getting angry with me for listening to the TV too loudly, I’m interrupted by a gentle yet strong knock on my door.
Looking over into my open kitchen, I strain to see the time on the microwave mounted over the stove. It’s nearly nine at night. Who could possibly be here? Grandma should be on a winning streak at cards, and Mom should be doing the same thing as me.
“Hello?” sings a very masculine voice, one belonging to the man I was just thinking about.
Shit.
It may be getting cooler out, but the heat from my downstairs neighbor keeps my entire apartment warm year-round. Saves me on my heating in the winter, but I make it up in the summer by trying to keep my place cool.
It also means I wear minimal clothing when I’m at home. My wine sours in my stomach when I remove the blanket from around me to reveal my silky loose top and tiny matching boxers that don’t really cover anything.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Hopping up, I run into my room to find something else to throw on.
“I know you’re in there. I can hear the TV, and your truck is in the parking lot.” Chase continues to sing.
“Just a moment!” I hop around on one leg as I pull up a pair of sweats and then grab a hoodie before rushing to the door. I nearly fall on my ass when I slide over, but I recover and manage to open the door before he knocks again.
“Hi.” I’m breathy from rushing.
His hand drops, and a very attractive grin spreads over his face as he takes me in. I feel lazy in my pajamas next to him. His worn blue jeans are dirty but not too badly that I won’t let him in my clean home. His jacket hangs open, giving me a small glimpse of the straining black fabric of his shirt trying to keep his muscular chest covered.
I can’t help but blow a hot breath out.
He’s hot and here.
“Hey.” His voice reminds me of butter melting on a baked potato.
And now I’m hungry.
I really need to remember to eat while I grade papers. I’m horrible at getting food into my system when I’m absorbed in work.
“W-What are you doing here?” I need to rein myself in. If only I could get rid of the effect he has on me every time I try to talk to him.
“I told you I would talk to you later. I just finished with work and ran to the store before they closed to get a few things.” He lifts his other hand with three grocery bags in it. It looks like there’s a lot of food stuffed into them.
“Okay.” I nod, a little confused why he would bring his groceries here instead of take them home.
“Is it too late for dinner?” As if my stomach has a mind of its own, it growls in response to his question. His grin turns into a full, beaming smile. “I take that as a no?”
