The Best of Winter Renshaw - An 8 Book Collection - Winter Renshaw Page 0,481

this last year. And maybe she’s a Band-Aid or a quick fix. Maybe the cure isn’t permanent. But I kind of hope it is, because Aidy’s brought nothing but sunlight into my life since the day we met.

Scratch that.

Since the day after we met.

“Do you have Netflix?” Aidy asks, wrapping a sofa blanket around her naked body.

I’m spent, cock still throbbing and pulsing and eyes still fixated on her naked body as she stands before me, the remote in her left hand.

“I do,” I say.

“Want to binge watch something?” she asks, rattling off a bunch of show options. “There’s this new one out. It’s like an old Western but it’s scary. It’s like ghosts in the old West. It sounds insane, but I keep hearing about it, and I feel like I’m the only one who hasn’t seen it. Have you seen it?”

“No.”

“Want to watch a couple episodes?” Her brows lift and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. The blanket falls, exposing a hint of her pert, pink nipples. I could fuck her again. And again. And again. But I’m still sore from last weekend, and my shoulder is still aching. I made her ride me tonight. Made her do all the work for once. It was nice, sitting back, watching her round C-cups bounce as she moaned, breathless, her skin hot, hair sticking to her neck as she threw her head back.

“Sure.” I grab the other remote, the one that controls Netflix, and set up the show.

Aidy trails off to the kitchen, grabbing us a couple waters, the blanket dragging behind her.

“I have an appointment in three hours,” she says. “We can watch a couple shows and then I have to go.”

There’s a sinking feeling in my chest when I realize she didn’t intend to stay long.

“You going to come back after that?” I ask.

Aidy lowers herself on the sofa, curling up beside me, tucking her legs underneath her. I feel her studying me, watching my expression, but I stare straight ahead at the TV and maintain my poker face.

“We just spent an entire weekend together. You’re not sick of me yet?” she asks.

“No.” Not even close.

Twenty-Six

Aidy

* * *

“Thank God you’re still alive. I thought maybe you got hit by the garbage truck and you were lying in some alley somewhere.” This is how Wren greets me when I sneak in the next morning.

“Sorry,” I say, wincing and closing the door behind me. “I should’ve texted you.”

“Damn right.” She reaches down, swiping a pair of Enzo’s shoes and moving them to the rug beside me. “So how are things with Ace?”

My lips twist into a smile. “How do you know I was with Ace last night?”

Wren rolls her eyes. “Because you’ve been flitting around like some Disney princess ever since you got back from the lake house, and I have a feeling this is only the beginning.”

“I don’t flit.”

I sit my things down by the door and head to the kitchen to make some oatmeal. After I returned to Ace’s last night, we spent the night in bed.

Not sleeping.

And now I’m famished.

I snuck out this morning, before he woke up, and hightailed it to the nearest subway station with my big, black sunglasses on, rocking some major sex hair.

“So are you guys, like, dating now?” Wren follows me to the kitchen, hand resting on her hip and a nosy, big sister smirk claiming her face.

“No.” I crinkle my nose, tearing a packet of strawberries and cream oatmeal open and pouring it into a bowl. We haven’t had that conversation yet, and I’m not in any rush. “We’re just having fun.”

“He seemed nice,” Wren says.

“He is extremely nice. A little serious. But every once in a while I see this hint of playfulness in him.” I inhale, staring off to the side. “And he’s so hot. God, is he hot.”

“Sure you don’t want to date him?” she asks, squinting.

“It doesn’t matter either way.” I pour half a cup of water into my bowl and stir before placing it in the microwave. Turning to my sister, I shrug. “Once you and Chauncey get married, I’m probably going to move to L.A. There’s more work there, and I really want to grow our business. Plus with all of our connections, I could have a job lined up with a single phone call.”

“Wow.” Wren lifts her brows, looking down. “I mean, you’d mentioned it before, but I never thought you were serious about it.”

I nod, gaze softening.

“You’ve always been my little