His chest and biceps both bulge slightly, as if he works out to look hot but not enough to show off. I follow his chest up to his long pale throat, past his strong jaw, and over a pair of sculpted, soft, pale pink lips.
Swallowing hard, I finally meet his eyes. They are bottomless and black, and like motor oil, they gleam in the light.
I inhale sharply and step back further.
This guy is insanely hot. I wasn’t expecting this. A dirty creep, maybe. Not a man who looks like this.
He raises his eyebrows at me. “Can I help you?” His deep voice fans over me as he takes me in as well.
I wonder what he’ll see. I haven’t stopped to consider my outward appearance all morning. I’m sure my hair, a few shades darker than his, is matted to my scalp in a tangled mess. My eyeliner is probably smeared around my hazel eyes and I picked out my clothes in a rush this morning after my argument with Camden. I lick my lips nervously and find that the peach gloss I applied earlier is gone. I’m a sweaty, sticky mess.
He’s still staring at me expectantly.
He asked me a question. Now he thinks I’m sweaty and stupid. “My name is Raina. I’m here for the room. I’m looking for…” I look at the ad on my cell and read the name quickly. “Kent Nicholson. Is that you?”
He frowns. “You want to live with me? Did you even read the ad?”
I quickly skim over it. “650 dollars a month for one room, utilities included. Preferably college male of drinking age. Party friendly. First month’s rent up front. No lease.” My heart sinks and I look up at him in dismay. “I’m not a college male.”
His eyes slide over my body lazily, particularly my breasts. “No. You are most certainly not.”
Pig. “Can you make an exception?”
“I don’t know. You tell me. Are you cool? Are you going to be my wingman, put the seat up when I puke, or sleep somewhere else when I’m bagging someone on the couch?”
“Bagging?” I repeat, making a face. “You bag people on the couch?”
He laughs at my reaction. “I bag them all right.”
Too much information. “I need a room. If you need a wingman, I’ll be your wingman. If you puke, I’ll put the seat up. And if you’re bagging someone on the couch, I’ll put my headphones in and pretend it’s the bass from Katy Perry’s latest hit. I really need a place to stay. Please? Pretty please? Please don’t make me say please again.”
“One more time.” He crosses his arms over his chest. His face is serious, but his eyes are mirthful.
“Please, Kent?”
“No penis?” he checks, disappointed.
“Are you gay?” I guess.
His face doesn’t react. “My mistake. Let me clarify something. I bag women on my couch. Not men. Although,” he continues, eyes gleaming humorously. “I would make one incredibly irresistible gay man if I do say so myself.”
“Totally,” I agree, knowing he could say anything and I’d agree right now.
By the look he gives me I suspect he knows it too.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-one. How old are you?”
“The same. Birthday’s not too far away actually. I hope the gift you buy satisfies me.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes, not missing the double meaning in his words. “The gift I buy will satisfy you,” I promise warily.
“And you want to move in here. With me,” he stresses.
“Yes.” What is so bad about him?
He stares at me closely, trapping me in his gaze.
I prepare myself for disappointment. I’m not a wingman. I barely even drink, I can’t stomach throw-up, and I think sex is a normal part of human life but should happen behind closed doors. But I need this room. I make my expression hopeful, widening my eyes and jutting out my lower lip. It works on Becca every time. When Kent’s eyes soften, I know I’ve still got it.
He runs a hand though his messy blond hair. “You know what? I’ll give you a shot. But the first time you get in my way you’re out of here. No cock-blocking, no bitchy attitudes, and please don’t fall for me. I don’t do the sweet ones. If you can promise me that, then this should go smoothly.”
Don’t fall for him? Jerk. I raise my hand. “I promise. In fact I’ll even treat you to a free round of drinks at Oblivion. I’m a waitress there.”
He grins suddenly. The sight of his mischievous smile makes something