Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“I didn’t even know we had all this stuff to make this,” Derek says before shoving another mouthful of food in. “Incredible.”
“I picked up more things at the store last night when you were asleep. I was out of energy drinks.”
He sets his fork down with a clatter and pins me with a firm stare. “About those things. You know they’re bad for you, right?”
“So is living off protein powder, but somehow we’re both still alive.”
The snark in my voice cuts like a blade and I immediately regret it. His entire demeanor seems to close up when I just got him to open a little. Me and my stupid mouth.
“Okay,” he says finally. “You got me there.”
I whip up my head in shock. “I do?”
“I know it’s a shitty routine.” He wolfs down another bite before saying, “I was spoiled to my mom’s cooking when I laid low with her and Dad for a few months. The protein kept me full, so I figured it was fine. I sure as hell couldn’t come up with the meals she did.”
“Oh, Dere-Dere.” I playfully nudge at his bare foot with mine under the table. “I’m going to keep you fat and happy.”
His lips curl into a cute grin that has a dimple popping out one cheek. Oh my God. How sexy is that?
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Riko.”
A flash of heat burns up my neck and settles on my cheeks. Are we flirting? Impossible. I’m not sure Derek would even know how.
“Also,” he says with faux annoyance. “Don’t call me Dere-Dere.”
Well now, obviously, I have to always call him Dere-Dere.
Derek polishes off his food and then goes for seconds. This pleases me to no end. The way to this man’s heart is through his stomach. Noted.
“I saw you got roped into babysitting Linda’s monsters.”
I frown at his back. “Topher and Eloise aren’t monsters.”
He turns around, shock on his face. “Are we talking about the same two kids?”
“They’re cool, man. They love soccer like me. We played for a few hours, but now I’m regretting it.”
I absently rub at my burning thigh. I can feel the heat of the inflammation through my basketball shorts.
“I knew you liked soccer, but I didn’t know you still played it,” Derek says as he sits back down. “I feel like there’s a lot we don’t know about each other.”
That’s because you spent all week hiding from me, Dere-Dere…
“Soccer is my life.” I sigh heavily, the spaghetti roiling in my stomach. “Was my life. Injured my hamstring and it fucks up every time I overuse it. Playing so hard today was a bad idea.”
Please offer to rub it out for me.
Derek doesn’t take the hint because, next, he says, “My ex could probably help you. Want me to reach out?”
Yeah, sure, Dere-Dere. I totally want your ex to rub all over me instead of you. Not.
“Thanks, but I have my own sadist. I’ll call up to the clinic tomorrow and get an appointment to see my PT tormenter.”
Derek motions around the house with a casual flick of his wrist. “When exactly do you go to college?”
I try not to grimace but end up doing it anyway. “I dropped out. Sorry I lied.”
His eyebrows furl together as he studies me. “Why did you drop out? No judgment. I fucking hated the one semester of college I did. Just curious.”
“Stupid leg,” I say bitterly. “Was there on a soccer scholarship but I can’t fucking play soccer anymore without immense pain.”
“I’m guessing you come from money, though. You probably didn’t need the scholarship to go. For someone who doesn’t appear to work, you have a nice-ass car and an unlimited amount of funds it would seem.”
“Trust fund baby.” I shrug my shoulders. “My parents are pissed that I’m not doing college or soccer. They can afford to pay for it without the scholarship. I think they just want to control me. It’s fucking stupid.”
Derek is quiet for a beat and then excuses himself. A few minutes later, he returns with a small blue box.
Not Tiffany’s-engagement-ring-small. Shame.
He thrusts it at me. “Maybe this will make you feel better.”
Curiosity has me ripping it open. Inside are two snickerdoodle cookies. My heart stumbles over itself.
“Just so we’re clear,” he says with a crooked, one-dimpled grin. “Cookie is not a euphemism for a blowjob. It simply means cookie. And you earned your reward.”
I beam at him, touched that he brought me cookies. “So, you’re saying I’m your good boy?”
“Something like that.”
This man doesn’t even know he’s flirting, but he totally is.
And me, I’m falling. Hard.
Derek
I’m not kicking him out.
This morning, I was fired up and ready to, but throughout the day as I went on my delivery route, I calmed back down. Riko isn’t a bad guy. He’s loud, messy, and annoying at times, but he’s also funny and a great cook. I’m glad I thought to grab the cookies on the way home. Even though I wasn’t expecting much, I wanted to apologize for being snappy toward him.