Page 102 of If Our Hearts Collide

I see the girls out and close the door behind them, already feeling the pangs of loneliness from being here all by myself.

20

PENNY

As a way to celebrate being in my new place, I order a bunch of my favorite appetizers for dinner with extra ranch—the runny kind. I don’t do thick ranch.

I guess the good thing about being here alone is that I don’t have to share my food, and I can double-dip these boneless chicken pieces into my sauce—guilt-free.

Yum.

Grabbing the remote control, I scan through the show options and settle on old game show episodes that were probably popular when my parents were my age.

Maybe that’s why my parents are obsessive when it comes to family games. Perhaps they watched too many of these types of shows. They are fun and relaxing to watch.

I play along with the contestants, enjoying the taste of comfort food.

When a commercial cuts in, I skip off to the kitchen to peruse my newly stocked fridge, settling for some lemonade to quench my thirst.

I move back into the living room, happy that I found my coasters earlier during some unpacking of the boxes.

“Well, hello, Sunshine!”

My body jerks around, as my hands clutch at the fabric of my shirt, covering my heart. “What the hell!”

The tall drink of muscular man-flavored water takes three steps toward me, swaying his hips in such a way that tingles run up my spine. Holy hotness. And just like that, he is forgiven for scaring me.

I watch stupidly, as he takes several more steps toward me.

Why am I not retreating?

I mean…the only thing that looks threatening about him is his attractive appeal. He probably has women passing out over his appearance.

I cannot be one of those ladies… No. I cannot.

Reaching out his hand, he looks expectantly at me.

“I don’t bite.” His eyes trail down my clothing, and suddenly I am questioning everything about my wardrobe selection. “Hard.”

“I, um…” My hand extends to meet his, submitting to the slight shake. “You must be—” I bite my bottom lip, stumbling back a step, until my butt collides with the wall. “You are?”

“Luke.”

“Luke?”

“Yes, Luke. Your new roommate.”

I shake my head. “No.” He must be one of those delivery guys that probably needs me to sign for a package or something. Having hot men carrying boxes is all the rage right now. People drop a lot of money to have some eye candy during a move.

Luke’s hand scratches at the back of his neck, along where his dark hair curls upward, under a ball cap. “No? Is that any way to greet your new roomie?”

My jaw unhinges. “You are female.”

His laugh fills the room, booming from his lips. “Did you look?”

“No.”

“Notyet,” he corrects, making a blush run up my body.

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