How To Evict a Hot Jock in Three Weeks - Anyta Sunday Page 0,8
you got for me?”
Logan looked down at himself like he’d just realized he’d started stripping. He jerked back into his sweaty T-shirt, his accent roughened. “Why, I gotcha a gift.”
He ducked into his closet and stepped out with a wrapped, double-palm sized parcel. He flashed a dimpled grin as Alexander took the heavy gift.
“You shouldn’t have.”
“It’s your birthday. That can’t go without celebratin’.”
Alexander nervously ripped into the wrapping.
Logan leaned closer, hot breath tickling his ear. “I hope you’ll be likin’ that. Took me ages to decide which ones to git.”
Alexander blinked at a set of heavy steel balls in his cupped hands.
He had no idea what to say. The devil himself would struggle to procure a single word.
“Truck Nutz!” Logan said with almighty enthusiasm. “For your wheels. I can attach ’em for ya tomorrow.”
“My SUV is fine without, thank you.”
Logan pouted.
Deep breath. Alexander could accept graciously.
Truck Nutz weren’t—would never be—his thing. But they existed in the world, and he could acknowledge that.
“It’d be . . . quite something to have these dangling from my ride.”
“Really?” Logan cleared his throat. “I mean, yeah. Quite something alright.”
Alexander stared at the balls. If he wanted to win the challenge, he needed a plan.
Wake up earlier, for starters. Blast CNN before Logan joyously scrolled Breitbart online news.
Ohh yes, Alexander could be a preachy bastard and set Logan on a new path of liberal enlightenment.
Purpose.
Brilliant.
For now, his sense of purpose lay elsewhere—birthday dinner guests were arriving. “I need to clean the place up.”
“Let me help.”
Alexander got ahold of the music before Logan—thank God—and turned on Bach.
While Alexander slung the vacuum and mop around, Logan attacked the stove and fridge.
Alexander frowned at Logan’s unexpected thoroughness, and Logan quickly shut the spotless fridge.
Alexander stowed his mop away and started at Logan lounging by the closet door. For fuck’s sake. Warn a man.
“What’s next?” Logan asked.
“Dust the handrail.”
Logan gave a charming grin and dashed up the stairs. “On it.”
Alexander followed him to the base, waving a can. “The polish is—oh, God.”
Logan settled his ass against the handrail, winked at Alexander, and slid down, hands wide like it was a ride at an amusement park.
Forget the path to enlightenment.
Alexander would call his brother immediately and tell him he’d changed his mind. He’d be alone forever, and the happier for it.
Logan picked up speed. The glee on his face transformed to oh fuck.
The dismount.
Why was he looking at Alexander like that? Did he expect Alexander to catch his large, hurtling body?
Alexander stepped back, shaking his head. Logan flew off the end, arms whipping toward him.
Alexander gasped as Logan flew into him and they were a bundle of arms and legs toppling to the floor. Wind escaped Alexander’s lungs. Logan lay sprawled on top of him, heavily beating chest to heavily beating chest, Logan’s thigh snug at Alexander’s crotch. “Oh hell, sorry.”
Logan planted his palms either side of Alexander’s head and pushed up an inch, easing the pressure. Nose to nose, worried brown eyes bored into his. “My shorts. They were slippery.”
His voice was soft; a concerned Logan scanned Alexander’s face, searching for hints of pain. Logan’s warm body soaked through Alexander’s thin polo, and his heart kicked up a gear.
Apparently almost getting killed didn’t stop his body from singing.
“You okay?” Logan asked.
Again with that gentle voice, but this time it caught.
Alexander gritted his teeth against the urge to inhale his sweet, woodsy scent and stared into Logan’s deep brown eyes.
God played cruel tricks. So straight, so painfully stupid, so gorgeously heavy atop him.
Alexander resisted the urge to squirm under those tight muscles. “We have to talk.”
Logan’s chest heaved, as if the man held his breath. He scrambled onto all fours, still caging Alexander with his arms and legs. “That rail is shining now.”
Alexander bubbled out a laugh. “Yes, quite glittering with your ass germs.”
A satisfied glint danced in Logan’s eye. “Darn it, have I gone too far?”
Alexander pressed both palms to Logan’s firm chest. “Too far?” Definitely. Days ago. He pushed Logan back and sat up. “No. Not at all.”
Logan stood, feet planted either side of Alexander, and frowned while extending a hand.
Alexander took it and swiftly found himself once more face to face with Logan.
Alexander could survive two more weeks. For the home he loved, he would survive that.
“Forget cleaning. I’ve got to head to Essence.” He needed to slink away from these unwanted shivers.
“Thought you had the day off?”
“I . . . forgot to wrap up some important deliveries. They’re for the summer showcase. I have to store