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)
My apartment has one bathroom outside the bedroom, and so I wait until I hear him come out before heading in to wash up and change into a pair of light blue sleep shorts and a matching tee shirt, making sure I don’t glance his way when I exit. The last thing I want to do is catch him shirtless, because the guy has a freaking fantastic chest. All hard muscle and lean abs that felt so amazing against my hands, my belly, my entire body when we came together.
With a groan, I shake my head of those thoughts or else I’ll never be able to get to sleep tonight. Once back in my room, I notice my phone has a text from my best friend, Ivy Jameson. A web designer, she works from home and has been busy on deadline or else she’d have been all over coming with me to my stylist appointment earlier today.
Ivy: So? Loaded with designer duds?
I type in my reply. You have no idea. Gorgeous stuff.
Ivy: Bodyguard show up yet?
I told Ivy about the plan to provide me with security.
I reply immediately. Again, you have no idea.
Oh, Ivy knows all about my past. We had too many girls’ nights for us not to know all about each other. But nobody could have anticipated my new bodyguard being the man from my past.
Ivy: Is he hot man candy?
Summer: Yes.
And that one word does not accurately capture all that is Ben Hollander. It isn’t just his exceptional good looks, it is his presence, made even stronger by that hot body. Muscles bulge from beneath the tee shirt and the weapon I know he carries that is there to keep me safe. And even though he is obviously still angry at me, that brooding thing is sexy, too. I am so screwed, and not necessarily in a good way.
Ivy: One-word answer? What aren’t you telling me?
Just that he can make my panties melt with one searing look.
Summer: It’s Ben. And before you ask, yes, that Ben.
Ivy: OMG. Second chances and hot summer sex?
I wish. He’s still angry and bitter. He’s not speaking to me much beyond doing his job.
Ivy: His job is to guard your body. Show it off and you’ll be fine.
I brush a strand of hair off my face and lower myself onto the bed. If only the solution to Ben and me was that easy. We have a lot of unfinished business between us that only talking about will help, but he doesn’t seem like he is in the mood to listen.
I turn my attention back to my friend and type.
He’s staying here as part of the security detail.
Ivy: Perfect. Use the time to make things right. You know you want to. Then see what happens between you.
I reply, We’ll see… XO, and put my phone on the nightstand.
I think about what Ivy said, at least about making things right. He didn’t want to take my calls after he was fired, but we have forced proximity now. He’ll have to talk to me if I push the issue. I don’t know if I can melt his icy exterior, but I can ease my conscience. Not that I was at fault, but he obviously thinks I was. And that bothers me.
I climb into bed and try to sleep, but thoughts of the man in the other room keep me tossing and turning. An hour later, with no sleep, I decide maybe a cup of hot tea would help.
I walk out of my room, surprised to find a small light on and Ben sitting upright in the bed.
“Hey. What are you doing up?” I ask.
“Couldn’t sleep. You?”
“Same. I thought I’d make myself a cup of tea. Can I get you some?”
“No, thanks.”
I head for my kitchen and turn on the stove to boil water, then I take a mug from the cabinet, my thoughts on what Ivy said.
Make things right.
Talk to him.
Maybe it is time.
* * *
Ben
I am tossing and turning when Summer walks out of her room. It isn’t the bed that is the problem. I’ve slept in more awkward accommodations on assignment. It is the woman in the next room and how uncomfortable things are between us. Not to mention the fact that I find her as desirable now as I did then, more so because she’s developed an air of confidence as she matured, and I find it fucking sexy.
She turns on the light in the kitchen, and one glimpse through the pass-through window reveals her ample, braless breasts, visible through the thin cotton. I press a hand against my aching dick.
“I called you, you know. More than once,” she says as she goes through the preparations of making her tea, turning on the stove top and putting a bag in a mug.
I don’t pretend not to know what she is referring to. I saw her calls. Ignored them. I’m not proud of it, but I was humiliated by the experience and furious with myself for knowingly putting myself in a position to be fired.