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A Not So Meet Cute(33)

Author:Meghan Quinn

“Why do you need those things?”

I take a step closer and tug on her old rock band T-shirt. “Not that this isn’t sexy on you, but you’re going to need something a little more . . . expensive . . . if you’re going to be attached to me.” I lift her chin up with my index finger. “I’m also going to need your ring size. My fiancée will be properly adorned with a ring.”

She swallows hard. “Fine, but I’m going to need to know your dick size before you leave.”

“Why do you need to know that?” I ask.

“Because,” she says with a smile, “I need to know if I have to act like a happy fiancée, or a truly satisfied fiancée.”

Fuck, the ovaries on this girl. When was the last time I had such an honest, forthright conversation with a woman?

The back of my neck heats up as I say, “Trust me, you’re fucking satisfied.”

She shrugs. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

She walks over to her nightstand and pulls out a pen and a piece of paper and starts writing things down. I move around her messy room and say, “If your sister specializes in organization, how come your room is a disaster?”

“She’s tried to help me, but I’m a lost cause. Be happy you’re not living with me.”

You might be a lost cause to your sister, but you could be my victory.

Chapter Six

LOTTIE

Mom: [picture] Here’s a picture of Jeff and me, naked, in the living room. Spared you with a pic from the neck up. But we’re living a free, breezy life.

“Why, Mom? Why?” I ask as I cringe and set down my phone.

“What?” Kelsey asks, fumbling with one of my boxes.

“Two hours after I moved out and they’re already naked in the living room.”

Kelsey makes a gagging sound. “I’m all for expressing your true self, but there are things she doesn’t need to share with her two daughters.”

“Agreed,” I say, while leaning against the wall of Kelsey’s small studio apartment. “And we still have to sit on that furniture when we go to visit her.”

“I’ll be standing from now on,” Kelsey says, grunting as she shoves one box on top of another.

The space here is, let’s just say . . . lacking. “Kels, I’m starting to get anxious.”

“Because of the dinner you have to go to tonight, the contract you just signed, or the fact that we’re going to have to make a box castle in order for you to live here too?”

Yup, that’s right, I signed a contract, binding myself to Huxley Cane until all contractual obligations are fulfilled.

And, yes, I’ll be acting like the doting fiancée tonight.

Not to mention, there’s absolutely zero walking space in Kelsey’s apartment. Why did I think it was bigger? Why did I think this was big enough for two people?

“All three,” I answer. “Do you think I made a huge mistake?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.” Kelsey lets out a heavy breath. “I think there are risks and rewards with everything. It’s a huge risk being contractually obligated to hang out with this Huxley guy until he secures the deal. But think about the rewards from it all—and I’m not just talking about where the business could go. Think about being debt free from your student loans.”

“Yeah, I still don’t feel right about that.”

Kelsey stacks one of my boxes of clothes on top of a box of shoes. “Think about it this way. Huxley is probably making a lot of money off this deal, or else he wouldn’t have gone to the lengths that he has to secure it, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, just treat the student loan payoff as your commission for helping him.”

“Huh, I guess I could think about it that way.”

“See?” She hoists up another box. “These will have to go here until I can figure out the perfect storage system for us.” She points to my bed on the floor. “Are you sure you don’t mind sleeping on pillows? I can trade with you every other night.”

I wave my hand at her. “It’ll be fine. And look at how cute you made the bed too. It’ll work.” I sigh. “Thanks for taking me in.”

“What do Mom and Jeff think you’re doing?”

“They think I moved in with Huxley.”

“Uh, what are you going to do when they ask to visit your new place?”

“We’ll set up a time, I’ll take over some personal effects, and then I’ll pretend I’m living there. It’s not as if they’re going to check the bathrooms to make sure my tampons are locked and loaded.”

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