Hate to Date You (Dating #4) - Monica Murphy Page 0,12
about to be left in the street. No cheap apartment living in downtown Carmel for me.
But I never heard a single peep out of Stella after that conversation. Caroline didn’t come to me with questions I didn’t want to answer either. I held my breath for what felt like twenty-four hours every time I got a text or a phone call, afraid it was going to be bad news.
Neither woman said a word. And now here I am. It’s move-in day, a Sunday, and Caroline sent me a text first thing in the morning, reminding me that I needed to come over to the apartment and move my things in.
Like I’d forget. She’s turned into a major mother hen.
Since I left all my furniture and most of my belongings in storage down in Los Angeles until I found a place to live here, it’s a fairly simple process. A couple of boxes, a suitcase, and a traveling garment bag filled with three of my favorite and most expensive suits are all I’m bringing to my new apartment.
I shove that garment bag into the farthest corner of the tiny closet that now temporarily belongs to me, then glance around the room. It’s not huge like my old bedroom, or even the suite I’ve been staying in at Alex’s hotel, but it’s bigger than I thought it would be, so that’s a pleasant surprise. The window is large and faces out toward the street, which offers a fantastic view of Ocean Avenue and beyond that, the ocean itself.
Caroline left her bedding since she doesn’t need it at Alex’s, promising me it would be washed and the bed remade. I stare at it now, wishing she would’ve warned me that the sheets were a pale pastel pink and the comforter was a silvery gray with faded pink and white flowers dotting it. There’s a thick, fuzzy blanket draped across the end of the bed, the same pale pink of the sheets and flowers, and I reach out, smoothing my hand along the buttery-soft fabric.
“She left you the good blanket.”
I turn at the sound of Stella’s voice to find her standing in the doorway of my new room, wearing a sports bra and a pair of tiny shorts, her thick, dark hair pulled into a high ponytail. She has AirPods nestled in her ears, and I swear her skin is covered in the faintest sheen of sweat like she’s just been exercising—running, maybe?—which is sexy as hell.
She is sexy as hell. Having her back in my stratosphere is reminding me of that on a daily basis. Even when she’s mad at me, I find her attractive. Clearing the air and apologizing to Stella was the tactic I should’ve used a few nights ago. Asking her if we could forget what happened in the past and start over was a mistake. Clearly I was talking out of my ass.
How the hell am I going to be able to resist her while living with her?
I’m not sure if it’s possible.
Realizing she’s waiting for me to respond to her now forgotten question, I end up playing stupid. “What are you talking about?”
“That blanket.” She nods toward the very one I was stroking not a minute before. “It’s my favorite. We’d snuggle up together in it at night and watch movies on the couch.”
I’d suggest we could do the same thing, especially if she’s wearing the sports bra and tiny shorts getup, but I don’t say that at all. I value my balls and would like to keep them intact. “It is a nice blanket,” I say almost tauntingly.
She crosses her arms, plumping up her breasts, and I can’t help but stare at the black sports bra, hoping for a nipple shot, though I’m reaching. I don’t stare too long, though, and when I lift my gaze to meet hers, the disgust on her face tells me she caught me checking out her tits. Oh well. “I hope you enjoy it,” she practically spits out.
I frown, already lost in the conversation again. “Enjoy what?”
She throws her hands up in the air. “The blanket. God, you can’t even follow a simple conversation. Or you say things that sound overtly sexual.”
Whatever I’ve said since she’s made her appearance, I didn’t mean to make sound sexual whatsoever. I can’t help it that when I see her, I think about the time we actually had sex, and how great it was. “Maybe you’re the one turning everything I say into something sexual.”