Dirty (Unexpected Lovers #3) - J.B. Heller Page 0,40
loudly, and I can’t keep ignoring them.
I knew this would be hard for her, but if she loves me the way she says she does, it shouldn’t be such a big deal to be seen with me. I can’t wrap my head around her reluctance. It’s not like it’s unheard of for athletes to date their agents.
After rolling out of bed, I pad to the shower. I’m so fucking tired I can’t see straight.
I stand under the scalding-hot spray, thinking about the look on Lennon’s face when I walked away from her.
It was a dick move. But one I can’t bring myself to regret. I’ve pursued her with everything I’ve got, inserted myself into every aspect of her life in an attempt to show her just how easily we fit together, how right we are for one another.
I gave her my heart on a silver platter, and she couldn’t even handle one night out with me.
Maybe it’s time to back off.
Maybe it’s time for me to move out . . .
I’m woken by the . . . Jonas Brothers . . .
What in the ever-loving fuck?
Prying my eyes open, a dark comforter comes into view. A moment later, last night’s events hurtle to the fore. Archer. A lump immediately forms in my throat. He didn’t come home, and I fell asleep in his bed.
Slowly, I push onto my elbows, glancing at the alarm clock on his side table. It’s nine. I sigh then slide out of bed and pad toward the door. The music gets louder with each step I take.
My brows furrow as I walk along the hallway, pausing in Bates’ open door. His room is spotless, bed perfectly made. There’s not so much as a dirty sock on the floor, which is super weird. He’s not a complete slob, but he’s no clean freak either.
Then I hear it—a woman singing along to “What A Man Gotta Do.”
I scurry toward the sound and come to a screeching halt at the sight of Tia, Bates’ old housekeeper, scrubbing the kitchen sink.
“Uh, Tia?” I say.
Her head bobs as she sings her lungs out—surprisingly well—and scrubs at what must be a particularly tough spot.
“Yo, Tia!” I yell.
She jumps, her sponge flying into the air as her hand grasps at her heart. Her big, brown, Bambi eyes land on me, and she sighs, her body relaxing. “Lennon . . . you scared the crap out of me. I didn’t know you were here,” she says, grabbing the remote to the sound system and lowering the volume.
I quirk a brow. “I live here. What are you doing here?”
She frowns. “Umm, cleaning . . . That is my job.”
“But . . .” I close my eyes, rubbing at my aching temples. “How long have you been cleaning here?”
“Ah, since Bates moved in,” she says, eyeing me cautiously.
I smile and shake my head. Of course she has. How stupid of me to think Bates would actually tidy up after himself. “Such a man-child,” I grumble, stalking into the kitchen to retrieve some Tylenol and a bottle of water.
Tia snorts. “You got that right. I swear I’ve never met anyone as helpless as that man in my life.”
I nod my agreement. “He’s a work in progress. I taught him how to do his own laundry the other week, so that’s something.”
Her eyes widen. “No shit? I was wondering who was doing it for him.”
“I told him it’ll get him laid,” I admit, shrugging. “Just call me the Mr. Miyagi of the laundry world.”
She chuckles, then a crease appears between her brows as she eyes me. “Are you okay? You don’t look so great.”
I knock back the pills then lean my butt against the edge of the counter. “It’s just a headache. I didn’t sleep well.”
She grimaces. “Sorry I woke you. I wouldn’t have had my music so loud if I knew you were here.”
“It’s all good. I should have been at work an hour ago. Looks like I’m pulling a sickie today,” I say, waving her off. After unscrewing the cap on my water bottle, I take a long drink then smirk, asking, “The Jonas Brothers, huh?”
She grins wide. “Hey, don’t hate.”
I give her a half-hearted smile in return, shaking my head. “I’ll catch you later, Tia. It was good to see you.”
When I’m back in my bedroom, I collapse face-first on my bed then slap a hand around my nightstand until my fingers curl around my cell. I shoot Clay a quick message, telling him I’ve