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I think I would know. “I’ve been around her for almost two weeks. She’s not like that. Fix it.”
“But, Reid, if you’ll just—”\
“Now.”
And then I hang up, shoving my car door open and striding up to Hollyn’s porch. She opens the door within a minute’s time, and I’m not ready-never seem to be with this girl.
She’s in these short-as-hell, rose-pink shorts and a little top with thin straps. It only hits right above her belly button, showing off her tits, the curves of her hips, and a flat torso.
I’m here uninvited, and she just—
“Do you always answer the door like that?” I practically snarl out. Brows already knitted because, fuck me, what the hell?
Does she really not know how fucking sexy she is? That any man with very bad intentions and a vivid imagination would love to be looking at what I am right now. The kind of shit they would do to her if she’d just spread her pretty legs and give them what they wanted.
“Did you not want me to answer the door for you, Reid?” she asks with a lifted brow. “I saw you on my security camera, soooo…”
Right.
You’re a moron.
“I need to ask a favor,” I profess, ignoring that conversation altogether. “My rental here is swarming with the press thanks to Wells. I need to crash on your couch.”
“Sure.” She shoves the door open just like that.
No hesitation.
No multiple questions.
Nothing.
Passing the threshold, the house smells like lemons, and Hollyn gestures for me to step deeper into her living room.
I’ve obviously been here before, but I showed myself in that night. I didn’t spend too much time taking notice of anything. The condo is smaller, but Hollyn makes up for it by adding a bunch of color to the room—royal blues, greens, and grays, from the sectional couch to a bookshelf that takes up one wall on its own. Hollyn has throw pillows contrasting the gray couch, a large coffee table with a mug of coffee, and more books.
A fake fireplace tries to give the place a homey feel, and it feels like Hollyn.
Simple, small, quaint.
Home.
“Can I get you something to eat?”
I glimpse over my shoulder at her, and she doesn’t cover up. I’m really going to need her to throw something on for the sake of my sanity here. “I’ll order you a pizza for the intrusion.”
How about the putting on the clothes thing?
And screw this chance up of eye-fucking her whenever I want to?
Looking back to the room, I stride for the couch and bid my civil war to shut the hell up.
Pizza.
Eating.
Sleeping.
That’s all I’m doing here. Nothing more, nothing less.
