The Play Mate (Roommates, #2)

Evie

This was not a date.

I pulled a deep breath into my lungs, refusing to let my lower lip tremble like it wanted to. I shouldn’t be sad. I should be angry. And I was. But I was also confused. And hurt.

Smith was standing in the open doorway, a scowl painted on his features as he towered over me. His fingertips curled around the top of the doorframe above his head, and his T-shirt crept up an inch, flashing me a sliver of taut, muscled skin at his waistband.

“Hey,” he said on a heavy exhale after several moments of silence.

He hadn’t invited me in. Just stood there, watching me like he wasn’t sure what to do with me.

“If my being here is an issue, I have no problem turning my ass around and going home.” I had a pint of salted-caramel ice cream in my freezer, and the series I’d been bingeing on lately had just released a new season. “You asked me to come, remember?”Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

He dropped his hands to his sides, then shoved them into his pockets. “I don’t want you to leave. Sorry about my text.”

“What’s going on, Smith?”

“Come inside. I’ll explain.”

He stepped back from the doorway and headed inside, assuming I’d follow. And of course, I did.

I hadn’t been inside his apartment in a couple of years. The last time I’d been here had been when I was hanging out with my brother and we’d stopped by briefly. The place looked exactly as I remembered it-spacious for a Chicago apartment, neat and masculine. Buffed wood floors and dark wood furniture. Black-and-white photographs of his family and the city he loved hung on the walls.

Smith stopped in the dining room, placing his hands in his hair.

I should just leave now. Say fuck this and tell him to take his silent treatment and shove it up his ass. But I knew I wouldn’t do that.

I knew I’d said I just wanted to have one orgasm that wasn’t supplied by me, but that wasn’t exactly true. Because Smith had given me one. One amazing, earth-shattering, bed-clawing orgasm-with his mouth-and I still tingled at the memory, but now I wanted more. I wanted the full experience, and I was stubborn that way. Once I had it in my head that I wanted something, I didn’t stop until I got it.

As I’d dressed and readied myself for my not-a-date, I couldn’t help but let hope bloom in my chest. Knowing Smith, he probably wanted to razz me about my failed seduction attempt in person, just to watch my face flame and hear my voice tremble.

Well, fuck that. I wasn’t going to beat myself up or turn into a babbling idiot when he asked me to explain myself tonight.

The fragrant scent of chicken and roasted vegetables came from the kitchen, making my stomach grumble.

He cooked?

“If you don’t start talking soon, I’m out of here,” I blurted.

My pride had already suffered too much where this man was concerned. I might have been kicked out of his bed once already, and if he didn’t want me here, he wouldn’t have to say anything. The moment I felt uncomfortable or unwelcome, I would say peace, out and hightail it out of here.