Page 1 of Just Screwing Around

Chapter One

Charlotte

Ifinally understood those ads I’d seen for full body deodorant. I was sweating from every available pore as I walked up the steps of Nick Perez’s front porch.

Nick Perez:

My brother’s former best friend.

My brother’s current nemesis.

My lifelong crush.

My soon to be new roommate.

What could go wrong?

A lot, I expected.

Things going wrong was kind of my specialty. I had wasted tens of thousands of dollars attempting to become an accountant, only to discover that wasn’t for me. Then I doubled down and spent even more going to college for baking and pastry. Then I bought a bakery and pushed my debt load into the six figures with a renovation. My new bakery was set to open in six weeks. The reno wasn’t done. I was still testing recipes, and I was down to my last few pennies.

Yep, definitely not good with money.

As a Hail Mary, I gave up my beautiful apartment in favor of renting a room from an ad I’d seen online. Springwood wasn’t a big place, and aside from moving to Vancouver for a few years tonotbecome an accountant, I’d lived here my whole life. The person who’d put the ad out didn’t mention their name, but I knew who’s place it was from the pictures.

Nick.

Fucking Nick.

Hot and scruffy. With an ass I kind of wanted to bite, which was a new impulse for me. But of course, my brother, Derek, hated the guy. Who had a nemesis when they were in their forties?

Derek did.

And Nick did too, I supposed.

The long and short of it was, Derek would freak out when I told him I was living with Nick. I was sure from his perspective I was pulling a Benedict Arnold. From my perspective? I was moving in with temptation in ripped jeans. If he accepted me as his roommate, that is. I wiped my sweaty hands on my leggings and pasted a phony smile on my face before knocking on his front door.

If I hadn’t already known he was a contractor, it would be clear just from the front of his house. The small porch had been carefully sanded and painted. Not a drop out of place, not a streak or a missed spot. He had hanging baskets filled with pink, purple and white petunias hanging from each corner of the porch. More put together than I’d expect from a single guy who probably put in a sixty-hour work week. It boded well for him being a tidy roommate. I heard footsteps approaching the front door at what sounded like a jog, and I squared my shoulders.

I’d spent most of my time at my new bakery, Oh, Beans! Even though we weren’t open yet, I was rapidly becoming reacquainted with half the town. Everyone was nosey about what I was up to and when I’d be open. I hadn’t seen Nick, though. Although with Derek doing the renovations, I wasn’t surprised.

The door swung open, and it was like injecting a shot of adrenaline into the crush I’d always had on him. He had to be six foot four. He’d played basketball all through high school. He probably could have played in college if he’d gone the traditional four-year degree route rather than into trades. Despite his height, he was still stocky. He used to be a gym rat, maybe he still was. I had no idea. Combine that with his very physical job as a contractor and tada! The result was a guy with a personality I had always gotten along with and a body I’d like to get a closer look at.

His dark eyebrows dropped before he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame. It was warm for a spring day, but still, he wore jeans and a long sleeved Henley. The forest green of the shirt looked fantastic against his tan skin and his feet were bare.

“Charlotte.” He took his sweet time scanning me from my black leggings that had seen better days, to my work out tank that had never been inside a gym. The way his eyes seemed to linger on my hips and breasts made me think he wasn’t noticing the same things about my outfit I was.

“Nick, how’s it going?”

His eyes pinged back to my face. “Same old. Look, not that I don’t love catching up, but I’m expecting someone. So, if Derek sent you, just tell me what he wants.”

I frowned.

I knew my brother was a stubborn ass, but clearly this feud between them hadn’t only lasted because of him. “Waiting for your new roommate?”

He ran a hand through his too-long hair. It was dark and wavy, curling against his neck and around his ears. “Uh, yeah actually. How’d you know?”

“I’m the one who responded to your ad.” I did a little jazz hands dance to try and lighten the mood.

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