How to Marry Your Frenemy - London Casey Page 0,21
Misha said. “It’s fate. You’re taking over, Callie. Just like you wanted to do. You’re getting the promotion. And then the apartment. Well, the apartment came first… you know what I mean. You’re infiltrating his life.”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s get a drink and keep talking about that.”
I had way too much wine.
I swayed as I walked.
Misha sat on the couch and barely had a sip.
I had a feeling she was trying to get me drunk so I would pass out and she could just leave.
Smart bitch.
I waved my wine glass around.
“That’s what I’ll do,” I said. “I’ll mess everything up for him. Knock him off his game. Not that he has any. It’ll be… boom… right?”
“That’s right,” Misha said. “Just go with it, okay? Don’t worry about the apartment thing. This is your home.”
“I love this place,” I said. “I freaking love this place. Woo!”
Oh, I hated the way I sounded screeching a woo but it just happened without me trying.
Misha laughed and stood up. “Okay, Callie. You need to get some sleep. Let me tuck you in. No more wine. Drink some water before bed or else you’re going to feel like hell in the morning.”
“I don’t get hangovers,” I said. “I’m too tough for that.”
Misha groaned and stripped my hand of the wine glass. She put it on the table and walked me to my new room.
I had some stuff to unpack still.
Actually, all of it.
Misha had been there to help me unpack and I spent the entire time complaining about Jackson and drinking wine.
I fell to my bed, still in my dress.
“I can’t wear a dress to bed,” I slurred.
“Yes, you can. Tonight you can. I’ll stay too, okay?”
“Misha, no,” I said. “No way. Go home. I ruined your night.”
“You didn’t ruin my night, Callie.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “I just wish I could get into your brain for a minute. To see where all of this comes from.”
“Don’t say that,” I said. “It’s a trap. You don’t want… oh, shit… did I pay the car loan?”
“What car loan?” Misha asked.
I laughed. “Never mind. Of course I did. I did it on the ride home.”
“You don’t have a car,” Misha said.
“I know that. It’s for Mom. She’s a mess… like always. Just don’t tell anyone.”
“You really need some sleep,” Misha said.
I put my head to the pillow and that was it for me.
Lights out.
Sort of…
I was in and out of sleep as I heard Misha move around the bedroom.
When she left, I felt warm and comfortable.
My right hand started to travel down, trying to find the bottom of my dress.
I fell asleep before I could even try to touch myself.
Way to go, Callie.
When my eyes opened, it was an hour later.
Misha put two bottles of water and aspirin on the nightstand. There was a bowl on the floor with a washcloth too.
I threw off the covers and sat up.
I was still very much drunk.
But my little non-orgasm cat nap had me energized.
I was angry.
And there was nobody there to diffuse it for me.
Beyond that, I was… horny.
Okay? I’m horny. I’m a woman. I have needs. Wants. Desires. Pleasures. Fantasies. And lately it’s been…
I growled and charged toward my front door.
Callie, what are you doing?
Sometimes my body acted faster than my mind. And my mind acted faster than my heart. Or sometimes my heart acted faster than my mind.
I wasn’t sure which was which tonight.
I blamed it on the wine.
I left my apartment door wide open and walked to Jackson’s door.
With a fist, I pounded on the door like the building was on fire.
I didn’t stop pounding either.
At least not until Jackson opened the door and I stood face to face with him.
He was shirtless.
Wait… more than shirtless…
He was in…
“Callie?” he asked. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Why are you naked?” I asked.
“That’s my business,” Jackson said.
He was naked.
His right hand cupped over his goods so I didn’t get much of a good look.
What I could see was just endless toned muscle that blended together like a renaissance painting where you’d have to buy a ticket to see and then stand behind a velvet rope to take pictures.
I was officially a tourist of the hottest body I’ve ever seen but can’t touch.
I pointed to his chiseled stomach. “Did you buy those abs?”
“Yeah,” Jackson said. “With a monthly gym membership. I got the biceps free for committing to a one-year contract. Any other questions?”