Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
When the heavy sentiment in Angel’s eyes gives everything away, I ask, “How did you find out?”
“Danny.” A blistering smile stretches across her face. “He is still convinced joining our apartments will double their combined value. He can’t knock down walls without the owner’s permission. Isaac’s lawyer pushed through the documents to get Danny off his back.”
I scoff while pondering how often Danny has been at her apartment in the past two weeks.
He was there as often as me before my visa expired.
“Why are you scoffing?” Angel asks. “I’ve hardly seen Danny in the past two weeks. He’s too busy sulking over your absence from his life to comfort me.”
I’m torn between banging my chest like an ape and cringing. I hate that she’s missed me, but it is better than her being happy to see the back of me.
I go for the latter when she says, “He was sulking because I broke his heart by telling him you wouldn’t be interested in anything he’s selling.” She speaks as if we’re not surrounded by people. “I might have mentioned after one too many spiked eggnogs that you refuse to try a teeny-tiny little butt plug, so what chance would a full-grown man have to breach your ginger freckle?”
“Angel…”
Everything stiffens when she laughs—including my cock.
It only makes it to half-mast before she tries to hand back the gift I haven’t officially given her yet. “I appreciate the gesture, but it’s too much. I can’t accept it.”
“That apartment is your home.” Before she can interrupt me, I press my finger to her lips. “And my home is you. If anyone is getting out of this exchange cheaply, it is me.” A thousand wishes to deny my offer blaze through her eyes, but not one spills when I say, “You either accept my gift or put up with me being your landlord for the next eighty-plus years. You thought Mrs. Richler was bad.” I scoff. “She ain’t got nothing on me.”
She gives my offer too much consideration before murmuring, “I think I could handle a landlord from hell.” With her hand curled around my tie, she tugs me toward the dressing rooms. “It couldn’t be any worse than the roommate I was forced to endure last year. His bathroom habits were atrocious, and he didn’t seem to own a single shirt.” She hits me with a riled stare. “Anyone would swear he owned the place with how he helped himself to my favorite shampoo and pubic hair sweater.” I gag, and she laughs. “I doubt he’ll last a week before offloading his apartment onto another unsuspecting fool.”
Upon spotting the challenge in her eyes, I ask, “And if he does?”
Tension burns thickly as Angel replies, “Then I guess it will only be fair that I let him—”
I smile against her lips before interrupting. “Home for Christmas.”
The End!