Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 123672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
My cheeks flush, and I mentally slap myself across the face. I am not that girl who gets all flustered and blushes because some guy is noticing just how thin her tank is. “Ahh, so New Neighbor Dude is a dirty perv,” I comment with a teasing grin. “Good to know.”
He laughs. “Ahh, and New Neighbor Chick likes to evade questions. Equally as good to know,” he throws back at me, that same teasing grin gracing his full lips. “But in case that mace is shoved somewhere you can’t quite reach, just know that I’m the kind of neighbor who will happily lend a hand when in need, especially when it comes to all of those hard-to-reach places.”
I adjust my hamper against my hip, narrowing my gaze on his and trying not to notice just how tall and wide he is, not in the same way that Viper is though. No, this is the kind of guy who looks as though he spent years as a professional athlete. His body is practically cut from stone, and judging by the deep summer tan, I can only assume he spends plenty of time outdoors.
My gaze slowly drags back to his face, taking in the almost jet-black hair that’s kept messy and falling into his eyes. Add that to the stubble along his sharp jaw and he looks perfectly uncaring, but something tells me that’s exactly what he was going for.
I hold my hand out to him, my gaze lingering on his. “I’m Kyah.”
“Kyah,” he says, testing out the sound of my name on his lips. “I like that. I’m Alex.”
“Well, Alex,” I say. “It’s been a pleasure meeting my new pervert neighbor, but there’s a washing machine down in the basement calling my name.”
His gaze shifts to my full hamper. “That looks like a full load,” he says slowly. “Perhaps two full loads.”
“Uh-huh,” I murmur, narrowing my gaze, wondering where the hell he’s going with this.
“There’s only two washers in the basement,” he comments, gripping his hamper a little tighter. “And yet, between us, three loads.”
I inch away from my door, putting myself a step further down the hall, understanding him clearly. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if one of us was made to wait?”
He nods, his gaze narrowed to slits as he inches toward me, following me slowly, creeping down the hall. “You should know, I’m not a very patient man.”
“Then perhaps you should know that I don’t like to lose.”
He holds my stare a moment longer, the tension in his body like a coiled-up spring, ready to bounce forward at any second. But there’s no way in hell I’m about to give up now. Hell, had he not made this sound like such an intriguing competition, I would have happily put my second load in after he was done, but now I’m fighting purely out of spite. Then before he gets a chance to get out in front of me, I turn on my heel and sprint for the stairs, gripping onto my hamper like my life depends on it. “THOSE WASHERS ARE MINE, ASSHOLE!” I call over my shoulder.
“We’ll see about that,” Alex calls, bounding after me.
I squeal as he hauls ass, his long legs quickly catching up to me, and as I hit the stairs, I grip the railing and fling myself down two at a time, positive I’m about to fall. Something flashes out the corner of my eyes, and I gape, realizing Alex just launched his hamper right over the edge of the staircase. With a slack jaw, I watch as he grips the railing and launches his body right over the side. Only, unlike his hamper that fell the full three floors, Alex’s big body drops down only one flight of stairs, easily putting himself in the lead.
Fucker.
Hell, he’s given himself enough time to stop and glance back at me with a wicked grin. “Gonna have to be faster than that, Mace,” he teases, and with that, he takes off like a bat out of hell.
A thrill shoots through me at the way he calls me Mace, but I don’t get a chance to linger on it as I fly down the stairs after him. Though I don’t know why I’m bothering, it’s clear I can’t win this one. But playing along? Shit, I don’t want to miss this for the world.
Hitting the basement floor, I sail right through to the laundry room to find Alex hovering over one of the washers, in the middle of dumping his clothes in, not bothering to separate the colors, but I’m not one to talk. I’ve never separated the colors, and so far, I’ve lived to tell the tale. “Shit, where have you been?” Alex smirks, making a show of glancing at his watchless wrist. “Stop for a break along the way, did ya?”