I need this apartment. It’s clean, safe, and I think both Kent and James aren’t all that bad to live with as long as I can get past Kent’s couch-capades.
Kent’s smile is wide and appreciative. He reaches over and touches my cheek with his thumb, wiping off a stray crumb of pizza crust from my face. “The goal tonight is sex. I don’t like the eager ones. I appreciate a good chase. Find me a girl I can chase and you have a place to stay.”
I take a deep nervous breath. “Sex. Chase. Got it.”
He winks at me. “I knew we were going to work out great, wingman.”
I blow out that same breath in disbelief.
What am I doing?
Chapter Two
The second Kent mentions the word ‘party’ James gets up with a pizza box and leaves. I stare after his back despondently. I thought he’d be the one to keep me company. I don’t find the idea of being left alone with Kent comforting.
“Don’t look so afraid,” Kent teases. “I’m the one doing all of the heavy lifting tonight. Well, me and the couch, but the couch is a supporting character. I’m the lead.”
I groan and roll my eyes at his grinning face. “Do you really only have sex with girls on the couch?”
His eyes narrow at my insulting comment. “It isn’t simply sex. I’m taking them to outer space. Be careful or I’ll give you the tour. I hear Earth looks great from up there.”
My cheeks blaze. “No thanks. I’ll enjoy the sights from down here.”
His black eyes twinkle. “I’m making you uncomfortable. Why?”
“You said be careful or you’ll do me on the couch. How am I not supposed to be uncomfortable?”
“I was kidding. I meant what I said to James. I didn’t let you live here to sleep with you. I get enough ass for free. I don’t need to scheme for it. So don’t worry. It’s not going to happen between us.”
I should be comforted by his words. He’s trying to convince me that he won’t do me on the couch. It seems fairly simple. But the way he says it, like there’s no way he could ever want me, hurts my ego. I swallow my bite and hope I don’t choke on the offended lump in my throat.
“Great to know,” I manage.
He nods, gladdened by my response. “Anyway, you should change your clothes if you’re going to be my wingman tonight.”
I finish my second slice of pizza and wipe my mouth on my napkin. “How exactly am I going to do that?”
“You’re going to hang off of me all night. You’re going to claim me, rub up against me, and make every girl in the room jealous.” He looks excited by this new kind of chase.
“I thought you don’t scheme.”
“I’m not scheming. I’m plotting.” He gives me an exasperated look. “As my new wingman I expect you keep up with me.”
“Can I be your wing-woman instead?”
“Fine. Whatever. Now go change. Wear something sexy. Something that makes those pretty hazel eyes stand out.” He gets up and dusts crumbs off his black jeans. “I’ll make the calls. If you know anyone and want to invite them, go for it.”
He thinks my eyes are pretty? I frown at his back as he heads toward his bedroom with his cell. How much of a jerk can he be? It’s not going to happen between us, he’d said. Saying my eyes are pretty feels like saying my teeth are rich in calcium. What’s the damn point? He doesn’t even really think I’m attractive or I’d be who he wanted on the couch tonight.
“Do you hear yourself?” I mumble in angry shock.
I don’t want to be on his disease-infested couch. I look over at the long sectional and glare in disgust.
How many women has he done on it? And why won’t he take them to his bedroom?
I decide to take a shower. The sweat from earlier has dried on my body and I feel gross and sticky. What kind of wing-woman would I be when I smell like an animal who does in fact have wings?
I hope Kent won’t mind if I use his soap. I lather it all over my body, surprised to find it’s mild and clean. I won’t smell like car freshener like so many men at the bar do. I cringe thinking of work. It’s not that I dislike my job. My boss, Wayne, isn’t a bad guy. He took a chance on me when I came in looking