Page 99 of The Pucking Wrong Man

CHAPTER 18

ANASTASIA

An alarm was ringing. Who set an alarm that annoying?

I blinked blearily, staring up at the ceiling. It was still dark outside. Why was the alarm going off when it was still dark outside?

Glancing around the room, I finally realized that the alarm was coming from the nightstand next to me; that fancy phone Camden had given me was buzzing and making the racket.

I had been the one to set the alarm.

I pressed random buttons on the phone until it finally stopped, and then I flopped back onto the bed, tempted to try and go back to sleep.

Okay, no. I’d set this alarm because I wanted to workout before Camden woke up. Rise and shine it was.

Sitting up wearily, I winced as pain shot through my leg. I hadn’t stretched enough yesterday after class, and I was definitely feeling it. Leaning forward, I reached toward my toes, trying to push away the ache.

Ringggg. Ringggg.

I almost fell off the bed when the alarm started up again, the shrill noise piercing the silence of the house like a knife through butter, slicing through the tranquil morning air. It was as if a banshee had taken up residence within the walls, her wailing cries echoing off the pristine surfaces and reverberating through me.

I growled at the phone as I poked a different button than the one I’d pressed last time. I really needed to learn how to use this thing...even if it was just temporary. As soon as I got my feet back under me, I was going to get one of those prepaid phones, and I’d give this one back to Camden.

I didn’t even want to guess how much the thing had cost. It was like a spaceship.

Dragging myself out of bed, I quickly changed into a sports bra and leggings, then headed out of the room, inching the door open so I could listen for any signs of life.

Was it ridiculous that I was checking to see if he was out there? Yes, yes it was. But since I could barely form words around him when I was fully awake, I was hoping to avoid any awkward encounters when I was half asleep.

I made my way through the penthouse, shrugging off the awkwardness I felt as I passed through it. It still didn’t feel real that I was staying here. The opulence of his home was overwhelming, each room perfect and pristine. I was never going to stop feeling out of place here.

And when I moved out...soon...it was going to be painful. Because now I was going to compare every dingy and decrepit place I lived in to this place.

Just like I was going to compare every man I met for the rest of my life to the perfection that was Camden James.

I was quite sure that they would also be...lacking.

The hallways stretched on for what felt like miles, the sound of my footsteps echoing around me as I crept through the silent penthouse. Sunlight was starting to filter in through the windows, casting long shadows across the polished floors.

Where the crap was the workout room? He’d shown me the other day, but it felt like there were a million rooms in this place.

As I turned a corner, the sound of music caught my attention, a pounding rhythm that reverberated through the walls. Intrigued, I followed the sound, my curiosity getting the better of me as it took me right to...the gym I’d been looking for.

I found myself standing outside of the glass double doors, gaping at the sight in front of me.

Camden was on a bench, shirtless. His perfect chest glistening with sweat, his muscles rippling with each movement as he lifted a bar stacked with weights. The room was filled with the sound of rock music, pounding as he worked out with single-minded focus.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, the sight of his chiseled chest and sculpted arms sending a rush of heat pulsing between my legs. It was like something out of a dream, a fantasy come to life before my very eyes.

He hadn’t noticed me, too intent on his workout to look up and see my reflection in the glass. Although my brain was screaming at me to scurry away...I couldn’t get the rest of my body to listen.

I hovered in the doorway, unable to tear my gaze away from him.

I was used to men’s bodies. While growing up, there were always quite a few male dancers in my classes, and their leotards left very little to the imagination.

But they had not prepared me for Camden. This was a man.

And oh my gosh he was beautiful.

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