Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
He’s a couch surfer! Oh no…
Alone, I slide into bed and shake my head at myself. I promised not to be judgmental, but I work so hard for everything, and I have this specific hang-up about slackers.
He’s not a slacker. He’s traveling and staying over. No big deal, right? The irony is I’m more than a little disappointed he fell asleep. He’s supposed to be this famous kink guru, fulfilling women’s fantasies. So while at first I felt uncomfortable about doing new sex things, now I feel bent out of shape because he didn’t want to do them at all.
In any case, I’m going to ask him point-blank tomorrow why he’s really here. Is he into me, or am I just a place to stay in between road trips?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Early the next morning, I wake to the sound of whirring and clanking. Foggy-brained, I stagger out to find a shirtless Carter in the kitchen. Where’d he get a blender?
“Good morning,” I say.
He glances up with those bright blue eyes. “Hey, good morning! Sorry about passing out on you last night. Guess all that jet lag caught up.”
“No problem. What’s all this?” There has to be a dozen shopping bags on the counter.
“I woke up early for a run and then went to the store. Hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed your car.”
What? He just took my freaking car without asking? Well, at least he took his shirt off to cook, so I suppose that’s sufficient payment. The guy is seriously ripped. “It’s fine.”
My eyes scan the various open containers on the counter—muscle booster this and protein that. “Looks like you went all out.”
“Oh, yeah. You didn’t have much in the way of vegan proteins, so I stocked up on a few things. Also got you a blender for smoothies.”
“That’s a nice housewarming gift. Thank you.” I lean over the counter to get a better look at the stovetop. “Whatcha cooking up?”
“Vegan scrambled eggs with soy cheese. The smoothie is almond butter and kale.”
I try not to grimace. “Yum.”
“You’re going to love it, Mila.” He shakes the spatula at me.
“So I guess you don’t eat like this when you’re traveling.” I remember that he took me to a seafood place in Jamaica.
“No. I eat native. Whatever the locals and indigenous people of the lands eat—fruits, bugs, fish, monkey, whatever—I eat. I want the full immersion, yanno? When I’m stateside, this is my diet.”
Monkey? Bugs? That’s just not right. “Um, Carter, I wanted to ask you something about—”
He snaps his fingers. “Coffee! I forgot to make you coffee.” He grabs my kettle and goes to fill it up from the tap. “Hey, after breakfast, I need to run some errands. Do you mind if I borrow your car for an hour or so? I’d rent one, but I’m only here for a few days, and I hate the hassle of going through all that.”
Dude, there’s Uber. “Uh, sure. But, Carter, I want to ask you something.”
“Anything.” His phone beeps. “One sec.” He holds up a finger and answers it. “Bob. Hey, man. How’s it going? Any news?” Carter looks at me and points to the food. “Help yourself,” he whispers before stepping out the back door to take his call, leaving me standing there.
I scratch my head. Well, at least he made me breakfast.
I go to the frying pan, pick a piece of the fake eggs, and pop it in my mouth. It tastes like warm Play-Doh. “Nasty.”
I make myself some coffee and grab a protein shake from the fridge. I’m not much of a cook, so this is my usual routine. After thirty minutes, Carter pops back inside.
“Everything good?” I ask.
“I gotta run to see Bob. He’s helping me with the presentation to land this guy who’s interested in backing me.”
“Oh, that’s exciting.” I’m about to ask who Bob is, but I don’t get the chance.
“You don’t mind cleaning up, right?” Carter pecks my cheek. “I gotta hop in the shower.” He saunters off.
I stare at the mess he’s left in the kitchen. All the goodwill points he scored yesterday are burning up quickly. In fact, I’m not really sure I want him here. He doesn’t seem to have much respect for me.
Mila, he made you breakfast—shirtless! And he apologized for passing out. I reach deep for some patience. He admitted yesterday he was trying to turn over a new leaf, but is he worth the wait? ’Cause this man is far from the goal line.
I clean the kitchen and put the food away. Carter comes out of the shower with a towel around his waist. “Hey, Mila? You got any lotion?”
“It’s under the sink in the bathroom.”
He tilts his head to one side, a sly look on his face. “Think you can put some on me?”
I freeze. Is this a come-on? I’m not sure. “Uh, okay.” My mind races. He does like having things slathered on him, so maybe this is his way of flirting?