Page 16 of Resisting the Running Back

“Call the butler?” I interrupt, and he laughs.

“No, nothing like that, but I have considered hiring a personal chef to prepare my meals.”

I raise my hand. “Let me earn my keep. I can be your personal chef.”

“And my fiancée?” he teases.

I blush as I scrunch my nose up in apology, and I’m about to tell him how sorry I am about that whole mess when he narrows his eyes at me.

“Since when can you cook?”

“I'll learn for you.”

“I think you have yourself a deal, but If I need to prepare my last will and testament, just let me know.”

“Shut up.” I smack him in the arm as we both laugh.

He helps me unpack the car and once again offers to get me anything I could possibly need. I really only took the essentials from the apartment I shared with Tyler, and maybe someday I'll go back to collect the rest, but I'm not worried about it right now.

All I’m worried about now is getting back into my manuscript so I can finish the book I’ve been working on since this is my full-time job now.

CHAPTER 8: Miller Banks

Page Six

“He stuck hiswhatinto herwhere?” I ask as I saunter up behind my new roommate, who is busily tapping away at her keyboard in my kitchen.

She slams the lid to her laptop shut, and she whirls around, embarrassment in her eyes as her cheeks redden. “Don’t sneak up behind me! Especially when I’m writing a sex scene!”

“I’m sorry!” I hold up both hands. “I wasn’t sneaking, I swear. I just walked in to get dinner started.”

“I thought I was your new personal chef,” she says, pursing her lips.

“Oh, sorry. Did you start dinner?”

She rolls her eyes. “No. I’ve been writing.”

I laugh. “Okay, then let me get dinner started.” I open a drawer and pull out the takeout menus that they staple to the bag when I order food. I only keep the menus for the places I like, and this is an easier method than trying to remember restaurant names and locate their menus online. “What are you in the mood for?”

She lifts a shoulder. “I don’t know. What’s good around here?”

“There’s a good sushi place not far, Italian, seafood.” I flip through the menus. “We have it all, though fair warning, the Mexican is better back home.”

“What about shrimp tacos? I really want shrimp tacos.”

I pull out the menu for my favorite seafood place, and sure enough, they have shrimp tacos on the menu.

“Let’s go out and celebrate your first night in town instead of ordering in,” I suggest, and she nods.

She glances down at her black leggings and T-shirt with a stack of books and a cup of coffee on top, and something about those leggings makes her ass look absolutely phenomenal. “Let me just go change my clothes.”

I chuckle as I glance down at my black San Diego Storm collared shirt and the khaki shorts I paired with it. “Don’t do it for me.”

“Give me five minutes.” She takes her laptop with her, and I’m tempted to tell her she doesn’t have to. After what just happened with her ex, I don’t blame her. But I want her to know she can always trust me. I wouldneverdo something like that to her. I wouldneverdo anything to hurt her.

I’m sure she knows that after all these years. I’m sure she’s just being a good roommate and cleaning up after herself.

But the thought still crosses my mind that there’s a bit of psychology behind it for her.

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