Page 111 of Time Stops With You

I block the memories before they have a chance to bloom fully.

The point is, I’ve been happy despite not having time to date. I worked like crazy and now I can provide for my family. I can send money back home to my mom in Belize. I can afford to take care of my little brother and help him get through school.

I have everything I need.

And guess what Idon’tneed.

A man.

Even if I can still feel Ronan’s wiry but strong arms binding my body flat against his. Even if I can still see the flash of white teeth as he smiled at me.

He’s…infuriating.

He’s insane, actually. On day one, he asked me to marry him. And now, he thinks he can justannouncehis intentions to sleep with me while being very aware that I despise him.

Does he think I’m easy? Is that why he keeps flashing those silver eyes and acting like it does something to me?

Well, it doesn’t.

I’m completely unaffected.

Launching to my feet, I stomp to the door of the laundromat before I remember that I don’t have my laundry with me. Even worse, I hadn’t closed the dryer door.

Tucking my tail between my legs, I slink back to the dryer and twiddle my thumbs until the cycle ends.

I’m on my way back home with clean sheets and no more online shopping attempts when I see Jenna climbing out of a car in the parking lot. I’m already in a funky mood and the sight of her doesn’t exactly turn that around.

Please don’t let this woman talk to me.

I intentionally slow my steps so Jenna and I don’t cross paths. At first, my plan works. That is… until a voice calls out loud enough for an alien in a spaceship flying over Mars to hear.

“Nardi! Hey, Nardi!” Asad quickens his stride to approach me.

I cringe when Jenna spins around and spots me too.

So much for going incognito.

Asad hustles forward, gripping the strap of his book bag. I stare at the shorter man. Not to generalize, but Asad looksexactlylike a programmer. He and Cullen might have different skin tones and heights, but both men are the same, for all intents and purposes.

They’re both on the scrawny side.

Super book smart.

Quiet.

Non-confrontational.

Zero swag.

Aka not my type.

Hear that, brain? Cullen isn’t my type so you can stop with the imagining him in my bed thing.

“What happened to your arm?” Asad asks, stopping in front of me, his eyes wide with concern. “How did you get hurt?”

“It was just a little accident. Nothing serious.”

“Did you go to the hospital?”

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