Page 13 of Hard to Take

My lips tip up, intentionally casual despite the hammering of my heart. “Garrett?”

His grip on me tightens. “Yeah.”

“Watch me.”

I use surprise to my advantage and slip his grip. I run to the door and open it to find a startlingly attractive guy.

“Hey,” Hunter says, grinning a blindingly white smile.

“Hey, Hunter! I’m Brooke. So nice to meet you in person. Let me give you a tour.”

I start to show him the kitchen. It’s going fine until the hairs on my neck lift. I feel Miles at my back before I hear him.

“She snores,” comes his voice from behind me.

My eyes shut briefly as Hunter laughs. When I blink them open, he’s casting a wary look between us. “I can take it. Are you the boyfriend?”

“No. He’s a friend,” I say firmly, using Miles’s word. “Was a friend. Whether he’s still a friend will depend very much on the next few minutes,” I add under my breath.

I motion past Miles, and Hunter comes with me.

“This would be your room. I’m getting things out of the closet,” I say.

“It looks great.”

Miles leans an arm pleasantly and a little threateningly against the doorframe.

“How tall are you, man?” Hunter asks.

“Six-four. And a half.”

“And a half,” I mutter to myself.

“Your room’s on the other side of this wall?” Hunter says.

“Yeah. I’ll try to keep it down.”

“No worries. You can keep me up anytime.”

“Excuse us, Hunter.” Miles grabs my arm and drags me to my room and into the walk-in closet.

It all happens so fast I don’t have time to hit the light switch, and when he shuts the door, we’re in blackness. He crowds my space, forcing my chin up even though I can’t see him.

“He’s not moving in with you.” His breath is gentle on my face, but his tone is seething.

“Hunter is great,” I say cheerfully.

“He wants to fuck you.”

The tone sets my teeth on edge.

“Just because a pleasant, attractive guy wants to move in doesn’t mean he wants to fuck me.”

I start to reach for the light switch by the door and trip over something. Miles grabs me in the dark.

I’m momentarily grateful—until, instead of releasing me, he drags me closer—close enough my breasts brush his hard, ribbed stomach.

“You sure about that?” His voice is irritated and possessive at once.

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