Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Alone.
And yes, I was slowly going mad.
That had to be why I’d stooped to hiding his food to get back at him for eating all of mine. How the mighty have fallen, I grumbled to myself.
“Milk? What milk?” I asked, blinking innocently.
“The milk I bought yesterday, Shakespeare.”
“Ah, I see. And did you remember to buy eggs and blueberries to replace the items you pilfered from me?”
“Pilfer? Christ, did I wake up in the wrong century?”
“It means steal, Ezra. You stole my food. Again.”
He straightened and gestured between the open fridge and his coffee on the counter. “I’m begging you to take pity on me. I’m un-caffeinated and that single measly cup is going cold ’cause I can’t drink it if there’s no fucking milk in it.”
“You do realize that coffee cools when you add milk, right?”
“Where is it?” he glowered.
“I’ve never liked milk in my coffee or tea. Or by itself. I’ve never liked milk at all.”
“Holden.”
“I think I might be mildly lactose intolerant. I can eat ice cream, but only in small doses. Too much makes me—”
“Gassy?” Ezra held his hand up and fixed me with a serious expression that made my knees feel weak and wobbly. I couldn’t tell if I thought he was scary or God help me, sexy at that moment. Don’t judge. I was under-caffeinated too. “Whoa. I can’t appreciate fart jokes until I’ve had my cup of joe. And I can’t drink the fuckin’ coffee without the fuckin’ milk. So where is it?”
I sighed heavily. “Check the vegetable drawer.”
He opened the drawer and cast a dirty look my way before rescuing the half gallon of milk.
“What happened to the rest of the coffee? Did you hide that too? And please tell me…who does shit like that anyway? Are you trying to yank my chain?” He poured some milk into his coffee and scratched his nuts as he ambled toward the table.
“I hid my coffee. If you’d like a pod, I’ll sell you three for ten dollars.”
Ezra’s mouth fell open. “That’s highway robbery and totally goes against all bro codes.”
“What are you gonna do? Sue me?”
“No more.” He put his finger to his lips. “You’re a little too loud this morning.”
It was my turn to gape. I flopped onto the chair across from him to give maximum glare. “Me?”
“Yeah, you.” He sipped his coffee and tilted his chin. “What’s with the priest robe?”
“It’s a Tudor robe. I have an HRS meeting this morning.”
“Hmph. Have fun.”
“I will. And what are you doing?” I asked, adding in a pleasant tone, “Besides going to the store to buy coffee and replace the items you helped yourself to?”
“Bite me.” He helped himself to a banana in the fruit bowl on the table. “Can I have this, or are you gonna jump down my throat?”
I shrugged. “It’s not mine. It’s probably Tommy’s or Cole’s.”
“Then I’ll take my chances. They’re nicer than you.”
“Bite me,” I countered with a tight smile.
Ezra chuckled and peeled the banana with his knees spread wide. I averted my gaze when it strayed to the banana in his briefs and— Whoa!
What was wrong with me? It was unseemly to lust after our resident exhibitionist.
I was actually used to this odd aspect of his personality. Ezra was happiest wearing a minimal amount of clothing. I’d never witnessed anyone strip out of office wear at the end of the day faster in my life. He began by unbuttoning his oxford shirt on his way to the kitchen and by the time he’d drunk half a gallon of OJ from the container, the shirt was gone and his pants were unzipped.
He’d given me quite a start the first time I’d bumped into him guzzling juice in his boxers with a tie draped around his neck. I hadn’t been sure what to think of him. I’d never met anyone so unabashedly uninhibited. It was…different.
I suppose I should have been thrilled he wore a T-shirt this morning. A very snug light-blue tee that hugged his prominent abs and pecs and—
“Text me a list of whatever you need,” Ezra said, interrupting my R-rated reverie. “I’ll swing by the market on my way home from work.”
I huffed. “Don’t act like you’re doing me a favor. You shouldn’t have taken anything that didn’t belong to you in the first place.”
“Quit bustin’ my balls, dude. I’ll make it right.”
“Mmhmm.” I pulled my phone out and scrolled through messages, intending to ignore him. His absent stare made it difficult to concentrate. I narrowed my eyes, which only made him smile. And that was the other problem with Ezra. He was annoyingly…friendly. Ignore, ignore, ignore. “Why are you working on a Saturday?”
“I’m paying my dues. We’re in the middle of a big case, and my boss is leading the prosecution. Endless fucking research for me.” He sighed and took another swig of coffee.