Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 53466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
“Really? Aren’t you at work in the morning?”
He laughs. “Yeah, but I watch the entertainment shows at night. You’re becoming famous. Pretty soon you’ll be moving out of this place and taking a bigger, swankier apartment befitting your status.”
She rolls her eyes, blushing at the compliment. “I’m perfectly happy here. So how’s work?” she asks.
“Doing well. I got a promotion.” He straightens his shoulders, and I am surprised he isn’t beating his chest. “So when are you going to put me out of my misery and go out with me?” Greg asks, playfully nudging her with his arm.
I grind my teeth waiting for her to answer.
Summer glances away. “Greg, you know I like you, but my life is way too busy right now to commit to dating.” She closes the top of the laundry machine, presses a few buttons, swipes her credit card, and the hum of the machine begins to sound.
“How about after things quiet down?” he asks, not giving up.
“Maybe,” Summer says, her cheeks still pink from his earlier compliment.
I don’t care if she said it to pacify Greg, I don’t like that she agreed to possibly see him some undetermined day in the future.
Greg moves in closer. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says, just proving my unspoken feelings. That he is a smarmy ass, too slick for a woman like Summer.
“Greg—” She hesitates just long enough, giving him time to chime in.
“How about I just ask you again next time we run into each other?”
I’ve had enough of their chitchat. She’s finished her laundry, and as far as I am concerned, we can go back to her apartment.
I clear my throat. The sound comes out sounding more like an annoyed growl. “Time to go,” I say, telling myself I am rescuing Summer from an uncomfortable situation. Whether she wants to be rescued or not.
“Who is that guy?” Greg asks. “I didn’t realize he was with you.”
“That is my bodyguard,” Summer says, glancing Ben’s way.
I can’t read her expression, don’t know if she is grateful I gave her an excuse to leave or annoyed I interrupted her time with Greg.
“You need security? Is everything okay?” the other man asks.
“None of your business,” I say to the nosy man. I glance at Summer. “You’re finished here, so it’s time to go.” I know I am being a jealous dick, but I can’t bring myself to care.
Now Summer does shoot me an annoyed glare before turning to the neighbor. “Everything is fine. It’s just precautionary, but I do need to get going,” she murmurs. “It was nice seeing you.”
I grab the basket in one hand and Summer’s elbow in another and escort her out of the room, into the hall, and straight for her apartment, closing and locking the door behind us.
* * *
Summer
I let Ben lead me back to my apartment without argument only because I don’t want to make an embarrassing scene in front of my neighbor.
Once we are inside and the door is locked, I turn to him. “What the hell is your problem? That was beyond rude behavior!”
Ben places the basket down on the floor. “He was a pushy, annoying asshole,” he mutters, but his face flushes a deep red, telling me he isn’t all that thrilled with his own actions, either.
I raise my eyebrows, recalling the way he watched me during my interaction with Greg, the obvious scowl and the rolling of his eyes, things he probably wasn’t even conscious of doing.
Realization dawns at why he reacted so strongly. “Ben Hollander, you were jealous. Greg asked me out, and it bothered you!”
“He wouldn’t take no for an answer, and that bugged me.”
I fold my arms and step into his private space. “I. Don’t. Believe. You.” I poke him in the chest. “Admit it. You were jealous.”
“It’s not jealousy. It’s that everywhere we go, guys are looking, leering, hitting on you, and you’re damned oblivious!”
“No, they aren’t! Name one place.”
“Starbucks. The guy practically has your order ready the second you walk in the door.”
“Kevin?”
“You know his name?”
I roll my eyes at his absurdity. “Of course I do. I practically live there, which is why he memorized my order and probably everyone else’s who is a repeat customer.”
“The gym.”
“Jason is my trainer!”
“How about the man who scans your ID card when you walk in and asks if you’ll be his date for Thursday night Bingo?”
“Mel is old enough to be my grandfather.” I choke back a laugh.
“Okay, then, the guy who makes your protein shake and has an eye on your boobs the entire time?” he asks, voice rising.
“Mac flirts with everyone!”
“You know all their names!”
I blink at the serious tone in his voice, unable to believe that he notices whether guys take an interest in me. That it bothers him is at odds with the man who dictated the terms of our relationship as bodyguard and client or just friends.