Hand on the doorknob, she peeks at me over her shoulder. “Text me when you figure out a name for the cutie.”
“I will.”
She wiggles her fingers at me and slips out the door.
“Guess it’s just you and me now, princess.” The kitten snuggles into my hand, purring like crazy as I rise from the couch and head into the kitchen. Her purrs grow louder like she knows what I’m saying to her. “What do you want your name to be, huh? Any ideas? How about Sweet Pea?” I shake my head. “Nah. What about Angel? Because you look like an angel when you sleep, huh?”
I pull a box of cheese crackers from the cabinet.
“That’s a terrible name.”
Sutton snatches the box from my hand, popping it open before sliding it back my way.
“Thanks,” I mutter, ignoring the sparks that zing through me when our fingers accidentally brush.
I put distance between us, leaning against the counter opposite him. Ever since he bandaged my foot, I’ve done everything in my power to avoid touching him. My body just never seems to get the message that I hate him.
I watch as he grabs a jar of peanut butter from the cabinet, then a spoon from the drawer. He twists the peanut butter open and digs out a scoop, licking at the spoon.
“Are you seriously eating straight from the jar?” I say. “That’s disgusting.”
And not at all hot. I definitely do not enjoy watching him lick the spoon. Nope. Not one bit.
“Name it something normal.” He goes on like I didn’t even speak. “Not something tacky like Baby Cakes or Princess Sparkles.”
“Well, do you have any suggestions other than what I shouldn’t name her?”
He recaps the peanut butter and tosses his dirty spoon into the dishwasher before making his way to the front door. He grabs his shoes, then plops down on the chair that was delivered with the couch yesterday.
I’d eyed the piece at the furniture store for nearly half an hour before deciding to just go with the cheaper option.
I was shocked yesterday when it showed up.
“Artemis.”
I snap my head to him. “Like the Greek goddess?”
He nods, slipping his foot into his shoe. “She was a badass. Judging from the scar on this little one’s face and the nip taken out of her ear, I’d say she’s been through some shit. Seems fitting for a warrior like her.”
The thoughtfulness behind his words surprises me.
But I guess it shouldn’t after this last month of living with him.
He might put on this mean front, but he’s not as awful as he pretends to be. I see how patient he is with the older people in the building. How kind he is to noisy kids in the diner.
I’ve known Sutton for a long time, but I’ve never heard him speak with such gentleness before.
“What?” His voice is gruff when he notices I’m still staring at him.
“Nothing,” I answer, shaking my head, returning to my spot on the couch. “She was attacked by a dog at her last home when she was just a few weeks old. The owners decided to re-home her and keep the dog, and she’s been at the shelter since. There was some damage to her back leg, so she walks with a limp, but other than a few scars, she’s perfectly healthy.”
I scoop the kitten into my hands and lift her to my face. Her tired eyes peel open, her little mouth opening in an adorable yawn.
“Artemis.” I test the name out on my tongue. I like it. “I think it suits her.”
“You’re welcome.” He finishes tying his laces, then pushes to his full height. “I’m going to head out. You need anything from the store?”
Again, I’m shocked by his kindness.
“A few things. I’ll come with you,” I say, setting Artemis down on the couch cushion and standing up. She doesn’t mind the shuffling and curls back up against the pillow.
“I actually have a date beforehand, so…”
“Oh.”
I don’t know why it surprises me so much, because it definitely shouldn’t. Sutton’s never been one to shy away from dating. It’s just…I don’t know what I thought. I wasn’t expecting him to start dating so soon when he just moved to town.
A smirk pulls at his lips. “That a problem, Holland?”
“Why would it be a problem?”
“Your face fell when I said the word date. You jealous?”
I scrunch my nose. “Of your poor, unsuspecting date who has no idea what a complete ass you really are? Far from it. If anything, I feel bad for her.”
“She already knows I’m an asshole. She loves that about me.”
“Well, bully for you.” I turn away from him, stomping into the kitchen. The sarcasm in my voice is clear, but I’m hoping he doesn’t hear the anger lacing it.
Which is really damn ridiculous. I have no reason to be upset that Sutton is dating.
It makes no sense at all.
I yank open the fridge and pull out a Diet Coke, cracking open the can and taking a hefty drink, all to avoid the way he’s staring at me.
He’s always fucking staring at me.
“What?” I bark, annoyed.
“Yeah, you don’t seem jealous. Not at all.”
“Trust me, Sutton, I’m not. I’m happy you finally found someone to put up with you. Remind me to send them a card expressing my condolences.”
He laughs. “You know, one of these days you’re going to realize that all this hatred you toss my way is just a coverup for your underlying sexual desires for me. Then you’ll be begging for me to give you what you truly desire.”
“A life without you? I could only be so lucky.”
He shakes his head, grinning as he pulls the front door open. “I’ll be back late. Don’t wait up for me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He chuckles again as he closes the door, and for the first time since he moved in, I find myself wishing he hadn’t left.
I waited up.
It wasn’t intentional, I told myself.
I wasn’t waiting up to see if he brought someone home, I said.
It meant nothing, I vowed.
It was nearly eleven thirty when he slipped into the apartment.
As I lie on the couch with Artemis curled against my feet and Schitt’s Creek playing on the TV, the key slips into the door and I slam my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep.
Sutton tiptoes quietly through the apartment, and I swear I smell beer and cookies.
My mind instantly drifts to what they did on their date.
Did they go to a bar? Did they dance, letting their bodies writhe together on the dance floor? Did they grab ice cream on their walk home? Did Sutton pull her close as he kissed her goodnight?
He moves around the apartment, trying not to make any noise, but I still hear him.
Just when I think he’s for sure gone back to his bedroom, I feel it.
His eyes are on me.
I will myself to stay calm, to keep my breathing even. Beg my body to not react as his gaze caresses me from head to toe.
I have no idea how long he stared. No idea how long I lay there pretending to sleep before I actually drifted off.
When I wake up, there’s a blanket wrapped around me…and a sleeping Sutton in the chair.
10
Sutton
Holland was jealous.
There is no doubt in my mind that she didn’t like the idea of me going on a date.
And I don’t know why, but I liked seeing her all riled up over it.
In fact, I thought about it all night.
I wonder if she’d be relieved to know it wasn’t the kind of date she was thinking of.
Alma called while I was at the gym and asked if I wanted to have “a wild night out with an old broad.”
I couldn’t turn her down.
Imagine my surprise when she had me drive her to bingo and then begged me to stop for drinks at a gay bar afterward so she could spend more time with her friends.
I’ll never tell her this,
but it was one of the most fun nights of my life.
When I woke up this morning, Holland was gone, and I was relieved because I had no idea how I was going to explain to her that I’d fallen asleep watching her sleep.
I didn’t mean to do it.
Hell, I don’t even know why I sat down and watched her in the first place.
But she looked so beautiful lying there. So peaceful. That scowl she’s always wearing when she looks my way was gone. And damn if she didn’t look adorable all curled up with that cat who, despite my allergies, had no problem sleeping on my feet this morning.
I wanted to bask in that for a moment longer for a reason that makes no sense to me.
I’ve been trying to figure it out all morning, but all I’m coming up with is that maybe I’m starting to enjoy my time with her more than I’d like to admit.
We’ve settled into a routine of sorts.
She’ll parade around the apartment in barely there shorts and a tank top her nipples are always poking through. I’ll wear nothing but a pair of sweatpants—the kind that really show off my cock—and stare at her until she can’t stand it anymore and hides away in her room.
It’s a battle of wills, and so far the competition is dead even.
By midmorning, I’m still thinking about her, and in an effort to distract myself, I decide a swim is just what I need.
The moment I push open the door to the rooftop pool, I regret my decision.
Lying on a lounge chair on the opposite side of the pool deck, there she is.
Her head is thrown back mid-laugh as she chats with the older woman sitting next to her, who I recognize as Lucy. Her long legs glisten in the sun, hair tossed up in the same bun she always puts it in as soon as she gets home, and sunglasses cover her face.
But that’s not what really draws my attention.
It’s her body that’s barely covered by a tiny-as-fuck red bikini, the bottom of her tits hanging out of it, that has my eyes nearly popping out of my head and my dick twitching in my swim shorts.
I’m torn between marching over there to toss my towel over her and stripping it from her body.
Wait. No. No stripping.
I do not want to touch her.
I do not want to touch Holland.
I’ve been good with my thoughts these last few weeks, keeping images of her out of my head. Not since that day in the diner have I thought about her in any sexual positions.
Mostly because I’ve kept my distance, but still.
I don’t want to think about her. I don’t want to have these thoughts.
But I know just how soft she feels beneath my hands. How sweet her lips taste. And it’s damn hard to forget that.
As if she can feel my stare on her, her head whips my way, and I don’t even have to see her gaze to know she’s glaring at me from behind her sunglasses.
I paste on a smirk, shaking all naughty thoughts of her away, and make my way over.
“Thanks for saving me a seat,” I say, claiming the chair next to her. I swear I see steam coming from her ears.
I ignore her, peeking around and sending my new building manager a grin. “How you doing, Lucy?”
I haven’t seen much of her since we moved in, but every time I do, I make sure to be extra sweet to try to woo her.
I think it’s finally beginning to work because for the first time, she smiles back at me.
“You can cut the shit, kid. I know you two ain’t dating. If you think for a second that I ever believed it, you’ve got me all fucked up.”
She laughs at the shocked expression on my face. I’m not even sure if I’m more surprised by the fact that she knew we weren’t dating or the words coming out of her mouth.
“Don’t look at me like that. My body might be old, but my mind is still young. I can pick up on things just fine.”
Holland snickers, and I turn my icy eyes on her. “Did you know she knew?”
“No, but I find it hilarious that you actually think anyone would believe we’re dating. We clearly don’t like one another.”
Lucy makes a noise like she doesn’t believe Holland but doesn’t say anything.
“You like me just fine. You just don’t want to admit it.”
She pulls a face, sitting forward to adjust her swim top, and I try very hard to not notice how her tits jiggle. “Have you spoken to your doctor lately?”
“What? No. Why?”
“I think you should. Clearly you’re imagining things.”
“Ha. Very funny.”
“On that note, I actually do have a doctor’s appointment,” Lucy announces. “I’d better get going if I want to shower beforehand, and I really do because I don’t think the gynecologist will appreciate me smelling like chlorine.” She tips her head to the side. “Or maybe he will.”
“I’d say have fun, but those appointments never are.” Holland shivers.
“They aren’t so bad when you have a cute doctor.” She bounces her brows up and down. “Let me know how you like that book.”
“I will. I appreciate the recommendation.”
“More porn?” I tease.
Lucy lifts a brow my way. “I bet she gets more pleasure out of that romance novel than you could ever give her, boy.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” I slide my eyes toward Holland.
Under my gaze, she sits up straighter, her nipples poking against her swimsuit top, thighs clenching together, likely remembering just how much pleasure I can give her.
Lucy tucks her lips together and lifts her brows in interest. “That sounds like a story I definitely want to hear.”
When neither of us says anything, she chuckles.
“Another time, then?” She tosses us a wink. “I’ll see you kids later.”
When Lucy is out of earshot, Holland turns a fiery gaze my way.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you say that in front of her? You know the next time I run into her she’s going to drill me for details, right?”
“That sounds like a you problem.” I shrug. “And what’s the big deal anyway? Are you embarrassed by our past?”
“Yes!”
It’s a single word, yet it stings so much.
And just like that, all the warm and fuzzy feelings I was starting to have toward her turn ice cold.
She’s embarrassed by me? I’m a Barnes, and she’s nothing but a wannabe princess.
Dropping my towel to the chair, I stand and take a running leap into the pool, trying to create the biggest splash I can.
Even underwater I hear her shriek.
When I reemerge, the glare she’s giving me is deathly.
She’s soaking wet…and not in the fun way.
“No wonder your family doesn’t want you around. You’re an asshole.” She gathers her things and stomps back into the building.
That night, she doesn’t come out of her room.
“Everyone, gather around, please!” Jessa claps her hands in an effort to gain our attention.
It’s Friday, and after our incident at the pool, things have been strained between us in the apartment. It feels like it did when I first moved in. She and Artemis stayed in her room all weekend while I spent most of my time in the gym.
I’ve been glad for the distance. It’s snapped everything back into place for me.
Sure, Holland is gorgeous.
But she’s still Holland.
Still nothing but a money-hungry brat.
“It’s come to my attention,” Jessa starts as I hit save on my report, “that there have been some…relations happening in the office.”
She doesn’t look at anyone in particular, but it doesn’t stop Holland from whipping her head my direction.
I have no idea why. I’m not dating anyone, in this office or otherwise.
“I’d like to take this moment to remind everyone there are rules in place against that,” Jessa continues. “I know some of us are new and may not have read the employee handbook too closely, but
this is the final warning I’ll give anyone about it. Understood?”
Nearly everyone nods, a few people sending curious glances around the room, trying to figure out who is sleeping with whom.
“And, Ms. Evans? A word, please.”
There are a few surprised gasps, and multiple mouths drop open.
I don’t move.
I watch Holland rise from her chair, and I’m not sure anyone but me would notice the way her hands are shaking and the way her breathing has picked up. Her cheeks are turning redder by the second, her chest rising and falling faster and faster with each tentative step she takes.
She disappears into Jessa’s office, and I alternate between watching the clock and the closed door for the next twenty minutes.
Finally, the door peels open and Holland slips out.
Her gaze meets mine for just a moment. Her olive eyes are rimmed red, her mascara a mess from her tears.
But I see it.
The fury—and it’s aimed at me.
She darts down the hall, and the urge to follow her is strong.
But I wait, not wanting to draw any attention to myself.
One minute.
Two.
Then three.
Three and a half.
Fuck it.
I shove out of my chair and follow the path she took.
It’s not hard to find her, the crying giving me a good idea of where she is.
I push open the door to the supply closet and slip inside.
With no light on and just two small clerestory windows that don’t let much light in, it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but I can make out her shaking shoulders from across the room.
“Holls?”
She stiffens at the sound of my voice. “Go the fuck away, Sutton.”
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong. What did Jessa want?”
She whirls around, her face scrunched in anger. “Are you seriously asking me that? You know exactly what she wanted.”
“I assume it had something to do with her impromptu reminder about the office fraternization rules. But—”
“Assume? Assume?” she hisses. “This is all your fault!”
“My fault?”
“Oh, don’t act innocent.” She shakes her head, lip curled in disgust. “Is this finally your revenge for leaving you at the diner? Because this is way worse than making you late for work, Sutton.”
Tempt Thy Neighbor (Roommate Romps) Page 9
