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Chapter Five
Ashton
Life just loved playing cruel tricks on me lately.
First there was the bullshit with Steve that I didn’t see coming. Maybe that was my own fault, as the universe gave me sign after sign showing me that Steve was a complete dickhead. All the times he ditched me to hang with his friends, hardly hearing from him when he left on “business,” blowing me off when he was home, and always coming up with some excuse to get out of spending time with me. But now it looked like the universe decided to take it a step further and bring another douchebag into my life as my roommate.
And a very sexy douche at that. Ugh.
I sat at the kitchen island with a bag of grapes, popping a couple in my mouth as I tapped my nails against the counter. There was only an hour before I was scheduled to take calls, but it would be a bit awkward doing it with O’Shea in the apartment. Sure, I’d told him not to disturb me while I worked, but who was to say that asshole wouldn’t stand outside my bedroom door listening to me?
“That’s probably something he would do,” I muttered to myself, taking a few more grapes into my mouth.
“Something who would do?” he asked, standing in the kitchen. His sweatpants from earlier were replaced by a pair of dark blue, deliciously fitting jeans and a snug grey, deep V-neck shirt. Jesus. The man was absolutely gorgeous. His shirt fit as if it were body paint, molding the muscles in his chest and shoulders. His pants encased his strong thighs, which slightly flexed as he turned in different angles to show me his outfit.
“Don’t drown yourself in drool, girl. I’m not too familiar with CPR,” he joked, his hazel eyes twinkling in amusement.
I blinked and focused my gaze on his smug expression. Even though I did think he looked damn good, he’d never know about it, the cocky bastard.
“Trust me, no one’s drowning,” I scoffed, plucking a few more grapes from the bag.
He chuckled. “Hey, I can read body language, baby. You got that ‘fuck me’ stare going on.”
“First, I’m not your baby. Second, as fucking if,” I said, bringing my eyes to the bag of grapes. I wouldn’t necessarily say I wanted him to fuck me, but…the thought wasn’t too far off.
“Seriously though, what do you think? Too casual for a bar? Not casual enough? Too tight looking?”
I snorted. “Oh, it’s tight enough.”
“So too tight?”
“Eh, it’s fine.”
“Fine?” He groaned. “Fine isn’t good enough. Now I need to go change.” He turned and headed toward his room.
“God, and I thought I was a diva,” I teased. He turned and looked at me, a slight frown settling on his full lips.
“What’s wrong with wanting to look good, Satan?”
“Nothing. I just didn’t take you to be the particular type,” I replied with a smirk.
“Well, I like to look good, especially when going to places for the first time.”
“Fair enough,” I replied. “Then it looks good, Mr. Diva.”
He grinned. “Like sexy good or ‘it’s fine’ good?” he asked, ignoring the nickname I gave him.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be so obvious in fishing for compliments.”
“Just a simple question.”
“Fine. Sexy good. Now go away.”
His grin turned into a full smile. “So you think I’m sexy then?”
I scowled. Of course he’d try to twist the meaning of my words. “Your outfit, yes. You? Still questionable.” Though it wasn’t questionable. We both knew he looked good, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
He tsked and shook his head. “You’re ice cold, A.”
