CHAPTER TEN
REID
I wasn’t one of those guys—you know, the type that knew how to comfort other human beings well. I did the typical rough pat on the back and chin nudge. When I broke up with my last girlfriend, I patted her ass and said, “Good game.”
It may have been because I was breaking up with her while watching SportsCenter, but she cried. Hard. Then shrieked and asked why she even put up with me in the first place.
I wasn’t sure if it was a rhetorical question, so I ignored her.
Which just pissed her off more.
So tears—the kind I was about 99 percent sure were going to start flowing freely from Jordan’s eyes—freaked me out.
“Er.” I looked frantically around her sparse living room. Where was the wine? The chocolate? The cuddly teddy bear that I could chuck in her general direction to distract her enough so I could make a run for it?
“I’m homeless!” she wailed, wobbling on her legs. I took a tentative step backward and covered my nether region, in case she wanted to take out her bad day on the entire male gender, and not wanting to be the one she made an example out of.
“There, there.” I coughed into my right hand while the left kept its protective goalie-like stance. “It will be all right.”
She blinked her big brown eyes up at me. “If you pat my head, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
Good thing she warned me, because I was just about to pat her head—like a dog—and possibly scratch behind her ear and ask if it made her feel better. I might be really good at flirting and getting a girl to fall for me, but I was shit at real emotions. I didn’t cry over women—they cried over me. Plain and simple.
“So.” I licked my lips. “It seems your hands are full here, so I’ll just . . . keep in touch? Maybe we can do lunch tomorrow?”
“Do. Lunch,” she repeated, her eyes widening into an expression that looked a hell of a lot like the beginnings of a toddler meltdown.
“Yeah.” I gulped. “Food always makes me feel better, so . . . you know, now you’ll have something to look forward to.”
Somehow I was making the situation worse, if the red on her cheeks was any indication.
“Reid, I have no home. I have to move out of my apartment while trying to keep your sorry ass out of a media firestorm, and you expect me to do all of that how? If I lose my job and my home—” She blanched. “Oh my gosh, I can’t, I can’t lose my job!”
“I think you’re overreacting,” I said dryly.
Jordan flashed me another terrifying look that had me taking a step closer to the door. Almost there. Freedom. So close. I reached for the doorknob just as she said. “I know!”
My entire body felt like it had just been electrocuted. Looking back on this moment, I’d recognize it for what it really was—somehow she’d channeled whatever superpowers Max possessed and shifted the universe, deciding my future, my destiny, without ever asking my opinion in the first place.
“You.” Jordan stalked toward me. “You have an apartment.”
It was the perfect opportunity to lie. Really, I was an actor. I could make her believe I’d sold my penthouse within the last twenty-four hours because I wanted to live on the streets.
In a box.
Or a cart.
Hell, I could have said I was renovating, right? Joined the circus?
But her face.
I was always a sucker for a pretty face.
And hers was more than pretty; it was pathetic pretty. Large brown eyes blinked up at me, their innocent trust making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Damn it! I needed to look away.
But I couldn’t.
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
She put her hands on her hips, which drew me in more, because damn, did the girl have some delicious curves on her. What was that smell? Her perfume? I was falling . . . oh, no, it was happening . . . she was using her feminine wiles on me. And I was a powerless bastard.
I needed someone to hit me over the head with a cement block.
Instead, she fluttered her eyelashes twice.
And I hung my head and muttered, “Grab a suitcase.”
“Yes!” Jordan jumped into the air, then launched herself into my arms, nearly sending me flying backward. Her legs wrapped around my waist and suddenly she was kissing me on the mouth, then hopping down before my body had time to register that the gorgeous woman had all but pressed her goodies against mine. “You’re the best!”
Wait! My body tightened. I should at least get sex out of the deal, right?
As a thank-you?
“At least first base,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Pardon?” Her eyebrow arched, making me feel ten inches tall.
“Just, uh . . .” I scratched my head. “Sorry, it’s a sports metaphor, you know, pass first base, the hardest base, and you’re home free!”
“Oh.” She shrugged. “For a minute there I thought you were asking for a sexual favor.”
“Never!” Hell, yes, I was. Instead I broke eye contact and rubbed my hands together. “Let’s grab your shit and go.”
Jordan rolled her eyes and disappeared into the bedroom while I shakily leaned against the wall and wondered what the hell I’d just agreed to.
“Ground rules,” I stated once we were riding the elevator up to my apartment. I was holding a suitcase and a plant she’d refused to leave behind because she’d kept it alive for three freaking years. Another mark against her, considering anyone who could keep a plant alive that long needed to get laid, or just find a hobby, any hobby that made their life look less pathetic. Checkers. I’d have more respect for her if she was in a checkers club.
But no, my new roomie-slash-shrew fake girlfriend had a plant fetish.
And she wasn’t the only one having a rough day.
Otis let out a pitiful moan.
“Shh, Otis.” Jordan rocked the small shih tzu back and forth like it was an infant, then kissed its head. “We’re almost there.”
I cleared my throat just as the doors opened, revealing the marble penthouse lobby.
“Holy crap!” Jordan did a little spin.
“Wait.” I stopped her spinning and jerked my hand back just before Otis took a giant bite out of my thumb. “Ground rules, remember?”
Jordan rolled her eyes. Her frizzy hair had yet to calm down, and if anything it had doubled in size and was cheerfully growing to the tune of “Stairway to Heaven.” Her big brown eyes were makeup-free, her complexion flushed but beautiful. Her round face only made her appear more feminine and enticing.
Which was the last thing I needed.
An attraction to my roommate.
And publicist.
And shrew.
What the hell kind of day was this?
Jordan peeked around me, her gaze on the large black double doors behind me. “Jordan, focus!”
“Sorry.” She returned her gaze to me. “Ground rules. Yes.”
I held up a finger. “One, you’re only here until we can find a place for you to live where you won’t get electrocuted.”
She nodded.
“Two.” I held up two fingers. “I like order, you know, clean lines, clean laundry, made beds, no dirty dishes—”
“Whoa.” Jordan chuckled. “Are you saying you really are gay? It makes perfect sense!” She slammed her hand against her forehead. “The need for a good publicist, the whole taming of the shrew. Who is he?” She was already pulling out her cell, ready to do damage control.
“Chill.” I held up my hand. “Not gay, just a type-A personality.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Fine.” I sighed. “I’m settling this.”
I went in, molding my mouth to hers, her protest dying against my lips as my tongue swiped her lower lip, once and then twice, before entering into the sweet velvet delicacy of her mouth.
Otis moaned.
Or maybe it was me.
Jordan wrapped a hand around my neck, pulling me closer.
“Drop the damn dog,” I hissed against her mouth.
Otis fell to the ground with a thump and started barking wildly while I picked up Jordan by her hips and held her against my body.
Barking continued.
The kissing didn’t stop. Who knew she had such talent? Her mouth was like a weapon. I was ready to suffer all the day long if that meant I’d get to taste her.
Jordan’s cell went off.
I pleaded with the universe, Just let her cell die!
“My, my,” a voice said from behind me. A very evil voice. “What do we have here?”
I jerked away and glared at Max, who leaned against the elevator doors. “You guys taking your work home?”
“Max.” I gritted my teeth. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
He tilted his head. “Oh, it’s always my business.”
Otis barked and started terrorizing Max’s feet.
“Aw, hey, little guy.”
“Otis,” I clarified.
“You guys already bought a dog?”
“No,” we yelled in unison.
“It’s Jordan’s.”
“And you, the lovely lady, and her dog are at your apartment because?”
I scratched my neck, as honest-to-God hives started popping up around the collar of my shirt. “We hit a . . . snag.”
Max eyed Jordan up and down. “I’ll say. Also, question: Is she aware that by this time tomorrow her hair’s going to be in the 90210?”
Jordan growled. “Max, what did you need?”
His grin grew. “I live here. In this building. I was just coming up to see if I could talk my brother into reasoning with me about this whole wedding situation. But now? I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. Not with you two buying a dog and cohabitating. You’ll either have sex or kill each other before the end of the week. My bet’s on both.”
“My electricity went out!” Jordan said defensively.
“You have to pay the bill, small fry.” Max shook his head at me and pointed a thumb at Jordan. “She always this dense?”
Jordan lunged.
I grabbed her by the arm just as Max stepped out of the way, laughing and holding his hands up in surrender. “We still on for dinner tonight?”
“Shit!” I released Jordan. “I forgot!”
“Bring her.” Max nodded to a very fluffy, aggravated-looking Jordan. “It seems we’ve finally found another friend we can bring around Milo.”
“Milo?” she repeated.
Max gave a thoughtful nod. “Yes, yes, I think you’ll do quite well together.”
“Me and Milo?”
“No, you and Reid.” He clapped his hands. “Keep up.”
“But—”
I put a hand over Jordan’s mouth. “Shh, don’t question him.”
“Until this evening.” Max tipped his nonexistent hat and walked down the lobby to another door.
“Tell me.” Jordan closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Tell me he doesn’t live in the penthouse next door.”
“Two penthouses in this building.” I shoved the key into the lock. “We own both.”
“Because?”
“Because we own the building,” I finished, pushing the door open. “Oh, and don’t think I’ve forgotten, we need ground rules.”
Jordan tried to push past me. I stopped her halfway through the door. “Unless you want a repeat of that kiss—the rules need to be established.”
“Fine,” she snapped. “Then can I please take a shower?”
“You’re being kind of demanding, all things considered, don’t you think?”
“No.” She crossed her arms. “What I think is that this is all your fault to begin with!”
“How do you figure!” I yelled, tossing my keys onto the granite countertop, where they slid across the smooth surface and fell on the floor. Otis barreled over and started sniffing them.
“It was a normal day for me!” Jordan’s voice rose. “I was reporting to my job, not hurting anyone—”
“—except the eyes of the poor people who had to stare at you while you whistled your way to work!”
She let out a horrified gasp, and her hair actually seemed to grow with her anger. Seriously, she needed to get ahold of that hair before it took over the world. Max would be pissed if someone ruined his plans.
“You”—her nostrils flared. It would be cute if it weren’t so terrifying—“are the reason I’ve had the day from hell! Because of you and your evil brother—”
“Thank you!” A muffled voice came from the far wall.
“How thin are these walls?” Jordan screeched.
“Enunciate!” Max yelled back. “And for the love of God, project!”
I shook my head and walked over to the fridge, pulling out two beers, both for me, and briefly contemplated hitting myself over the head with the second bottle once I finished the first.
“Fine.” I held up my hands. “You win, it’s my fault, but now that I’m sharing my multi-million-dollar paradise with you—we’re even.”
Jordan marched over to the counter and grabbed the other beer, hitting the tab off the top via the side of the granite.
She made it look cool.
Not that I would ever say it out loud, lest she never move out and make my life a living hell.
“Rules,” I said for, oh, I don’t know, the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes? “No bringing men home to my house—ever.”
“Do I count?” Max yelled through the wall.
“Seriously,” Jordan said in a hushed voice. “Who built this place?”
“Who do you think?” I nodded to the wall. “Max was in charge of this project and offered me the other penthouse.”
Jordan shook her head. “Sneaky bastard.”
“Thank you!” Max said again.
“Can we block him out?” she whispered.
“Talk louder!” Again Max.
Jordan smirked. “Oh, baby, right there.”
I choked on my beer.
“That’s it!” she screamed, slamming her hand against the countertop. “Oh, you know how to make a woman feel so good!” Otis started barking. I wasn’t sure if that was a check in my favor or not as far as Max’s listening was concerned. “Oh, oh, yes, yes, yes, yes!” Bonus points for screaming, and suddenly I appreciated her hair and the wild way it seemed to bounce with every scream. I could definitely be down with that . . . oh, I could do a lot of things with that. I squeezed the bottle harder, blood pumping to all the wrong areas.
“Yes!” She slammed her hand against the counter again. “You’re so—”
Silence.
And then. “Guys?”
Otis barked.
“Guys?” Max yelled. “What happened? Since when has Reid ever gotten a girl to scream?”
“All the damn time!” I yelled back.
“Please,” Max replied. “I live here.”
“Really wish you didn’t!”
“You love me!”
I turned to Jordan. “It was a nice try . . .” This time I patted her hand. “Really, you had me believing I was a magic orgasm-giving unicorn.”
Jordan giggled, the beer teasing the edge of her lips. I wanted to take a step forward. Instead I backed up, nearly colliding with the fridge. “So, I guess the only rules are . . . don’t bring any guys back here. Ever. Keep it down until Max gets married and moves somewhere else, and well, try to keep the apartment clean.”
Jordan set down her beer, and her teeth teased her lower lip as she slowly held out her hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
“Oh.” I tugged her closer to my body. “And another thing?”
“Yeah?” she said breathlessly.
“You need to take a shower before dinner. I refuse to claim you and that thing on your head.”
She stomped on my foot and walked down the hall.
“Second door to the left,” I yelled. The door slammed.
It was worth it to see the fire in her eyes. “Well.” I nodded to Otis. “What do you think, boy?”
His answer?
To lift up his leg and pee on my keys.
Fan-freaking-tastic.