Nice Guys Don't Win (The Boys #2) - Micalea Smeltzer Page 0,13

I can’t get any words to form. He goes into his bedroom, the door clicking quietly closed behind him.

I take a moment to steady myself, trying to wrap my head around the insane effect he has on me. Taking a bottle of water from the fridge, I gulp down half of it, hoping it’ll help cool down my suddenly flaming hot skin.

Changing into my pajamas, I crawl into my bed trying not to think about the gorgeous man sleeping only a wall away.

“Are you seriously eating leftover pizza for breakfast?”

Cole looks up from his plate and swivels the barstool around to face me. He’s shirtless, showing off his incredible abs and the ink on his left arm and across his chest. I bite down on my lip, so I don’t whimper, squeezing my thighs together. I’m blaming the pulsing in my vagina on the fact that it’s been nearly six-months since I got laid. It definitely doesn’t have anything at all to do with my gorgeous roommate.

Did I say gorgeous?

Average.

He’s mediocre at best.

Who the hell am I kidding? Cole Anderson is runway worthy. He has the kind of face that makes you stop and look and the personality to draw you in and make you stay. It’s taken me only a few days to learn that.

“Leftover pizza is the best kind of pizza,” he argues. “Especially when it’s cold.”

I wrinkle my nose. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.” I open the fridge, pulling out a jar of the overnight oats I made the other day.

“You’re going to eat that mush when you could have this?” He holds up a half-eaten slice.

“Um, yes.” I grab some blueberries and sprinkle them on top along with a little bit of granola.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs while I take a spoon from the drawer, hip checking it closed.

Sitting on the other stool, I swivel to face him. “So, Cole, you’re a senior, right?”

He stifles a grin and finishes chewing before answering. “Yes.”

“And what’s your major?”

His eyes sparkle with humor. “Journalism.”

“And what are you going to do with that?”

This time his head falls back with laughter. “What is this? A job interview?”

“Sorry,” I wince. “I’m trying to get to know you better, but you’re right, this does sound like an interview.”

“What are you studying?”

“I plan on becoming a physical therapist. I’m getting my bachelor’s in health sciences before I enroll in my DPT program.”

“Wow. I’m impressed.”

I bristle at that. “Do I not look smart enough?” The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. I know I shouldn’t have said it, but it’s an insecurity of mine. All my life I’ve been underestimated by people because I don’t look a certain way.

He rears back like I’ve slapped him. “Fuck, no. That’s not what I meant at all, Zoey. It’s just … that shit is hard, and I know I could never do it, so yeah, I’m impressed.”

“It’s a sore subject for me,” I whisper, stirring my oats. “My … ex,” I settle on, instead of ex-fiancé, “was constantly telling me it would be too hard for a woman and require too much studying.”

“Fuck him. Or her.”

“Him,” I laugh.

A moment of silence passes before he adds, “I’m sorry he acted like you were inadequate.”

“Yeah, well,” I shrug, licking my spoon clean, “I think it’s just because he was lacking in inches, so he wanted to make me feel just as small.”

Cole chokes on his pizza and starts coughing. I reach over, beating his back. “Damn, girl,” he gasps when he’s recovered slightly, “warn a guy before you make him laugh that hard.” Recovering, he asks, “How small did he make you feel?”

I know he’s being serious, but I can’t stop myself when I answer with, “Micro-sized.”

“Oh, Jesus.” He starts laughing all over again and I smile. I like his laugh a lot. It reminds me of syrup or honey. Rich and thick. “You’re something else, Zoey. You know that.”

“So, I’ve been told.” I shrug my shoulders and finish my oats, hopping up from the chair to clean my jar. Leaning against the counter facing him it’s impossible not to miss the way his eyes dip to my chest, barely held in my tank top. I’ve always been a curvier girl and used to guys checking out my assets, but there’s something almost innocent in the way Cole does it. As soon as he realizes he’s ogling my tits, his eyes dart away and he clears his throat. “Do you really like