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)
I gathered the binder and what remained of my dignity as I clandestinely observed Val’s assistant and my roommate chuckling over the mess he’d made. He was tall and handsome and she was petite and pretty. They looked cute together. She was probably his type, and Ezra was everyone’s type, so…I needed to snap the heck out of it.
No more kissing, for crying out loud. This had to stop.
“Well done,” Ezra exclaimed, pulling the robe off with a flourish before yanking the billowing white shirt from the breeches. He stepped aside, flashing a winning smile at Presley. “Thanks for the help.”
She lowered her lashes flirtatiously. “Anytime. Welcome aboard, Ezra. I’m so glad you’re part of the fair. It’s super fun. Val’s wife is my godmother. She roped me into this gig, but I’m loving it so far. I think you will too.”
“Thanks. See you next time.” Ezra pivoted to me. “I’ll be ready to go in two minutes, Shakespeare.”
“Uh…where?”
“Home. You’re my ride.”
Oh. Right.
“I can take you,” Presley volunteered.
“Thanks, but Holden needs to grab some things for his costume anyway and…we’re roomies.” He gave a friendly wave and strode purposefully toward the dressing partition, leaving me with a starry-eyed Presley.
“He’s your roommate? Lucky you.” She nudged my arm before disappearing behind the curtain.
Yes. Lucky me.
I sucked in a deep breath, raking my fingers through my hair as I bemoaned my foolhardiness. I was a respected intellect with an impressive résumé and an equally impressive education. I wasn’t just book smart either. I understood enough about the human psyche to know I was in the midst of an inexplicable attraction that was taking me down a bad path. A pheromone issue, perhaps?
I wasn’t sure, but I did know this…men like Ezra belonged with girls like Presley and the red-thong culprit. Or with men who weren’t me. I couldn’t be part of his bisexual journey. I’d been there and done that, and it hadn’t ended well.
New plan. I’d take him home and reset boundaries. And we’d to go back to being…normal. That meant no kissing. In fact, no touching at all.
None. Zilch. Nil. Zero.
We listened to a pop radio station and made idle conversation about some of the cast members on the short trip across town. It was basic easy chatter…no sarcasm and no bite. The sizzle of awareness was still there, though. For me, anyway.
A little distance would help.
I moved past him into the kitchen, intending to grab a quick bite to eat before heading back to practice. Ezra followed me.
“No one’s home,” he commented, typing something on his cell.
I opened the refrigerator and stared blankly at the contents. I wasn’t hungry anymore. That fluttering feeling in my stomach returned with a vengeance. I closed the door and reached for a banana from the fruit bowl instead.
“That’s nice. Um…thank you for today. Everyone is excited to have you. I’ll mention your suggestions to Val and let you know what she says.” I raised my banana like a white flag and stepped toward the doorway. “And, uh…I’ll see you later.”
“Hold up.” Ezra dropped his cell on the table and stepped in front of me, blocking my exit. “We need to talk.”
“About what? I mean…yes, I know what you mean. Kissing. We should talk about kissing,” I babbled.
“Right. So…kissing is good, yes?”
“No, it’s bad. For me and you…it’s not good. No bueno.”
The corner of his lip lifted slightly. “I disagree.”
“That’s because you started it.”
“Did I? You participated.”
“Y-yes, but you kissed me first and I, um…felt like I had to return the favor,” I stammered.
Ezra snorted. “Return the favor?”
“I didn’t want to be rude.”
His smile grew till it looked like it might crack his face in half. “I bet, but I also think you’re full of shit. And also…you kissed me first. You want me.”
The nerve.
How dare he correctly assume that I was attracted to him?
I stabbed my forefinger at his rock-hard chest. “You have an inflated sense of your sex appeal, Ezra Marsden. Don’t for one second think that I have libidinous designs on you or—”
“Liar. And you know how I know you’re lying?” He tapped the tip of my nose. “Your nose is twitching and the next time you open your mouth, you’re gonna hit me with a four-syllable gem from Webster’s that no one under thirty has ever used in the twenty-first century. Go on…”
I gritted my teeth. “Poppycock!”
He lifted his hands in the air and shrugged. “I rest my case, your honor.”
“Wrong! First of all, poppycock is three-syllables, not four, and secondly…”
I had no idea what I was going to say. Ezra’s unabashed amusement and lackadaisical attitude were infuriatingly endearing. I was having a heck of a time reminding myself that I didn’t like him. He was brash, coarse, contumelious, audacious, and shameless. Not to mention annoying.
But he was also charming and kind and funny and—