Page 71 of Just My Type of wrong guy

He’s mad — really mad — but he doesn’t yell.

With one hand resting on the doorframe, his bicep looks even more defined. His chest rises and falls with tense breathing, and even now, he doesn’t bother putting on clothes.

“Nothing,” I whisper, forcing myself to look back at his face, framed by a samurai bun that would make me drool — if I didn’t prefer to die than admit he looks ridiculously hot in that stupid hair and underwear combo.

“Nothing?” His eyes widen, and he takes an involuntary step back.

“You kicked Brittany out and caused all that drama for nothing?”

“That’s right, A.J. I justreallyfelt like blasting music.”

“Baby Shark? You felt like blastingBaby Shark?”

“Look, A—”

“No,youlook!” he cuts me off, his voice low and rough, but laced with irritation.

“I barely slept last night, worrying about what might’vehappened to you out there. I was going insane, and I needed to unwind after everything.”

And now this ismyfault.

“A.J., I’m from Rio. Born and raised in the North Zone,” I snap. I’m not about to let him blamemyouting forhisshameless behavior.

“If someone tries to rob me in New York, I’ll be the one going home withtheirstuff and tossing them into the Hudson. Wake up.”

He’s still calm.

I’m the one yelling now.

“I know I’m here as a favor, but it would’ve been nice if you’d warned me about your… guest. That way, I would’ve gone out instead of staying here listening to you moaning and grunting like a—”

I don’t finish the sentence.

Because he moves.

A.J. tilts his neck to the side and swallows hard, and the movement of his Adam’s apple throws me for a second. Then his tongue slides slowly across his bottom lip.

And just like that, my lungs forget how to work.

He lowers his hand from the doorframe and takes a step forward.

Which makes me step back.

“So you didn’t like seeing me with another girl and decided to kick her out?”

His voice is low, hoarse, and laced with a dangerous kind of amusement. But he doesn’t stop. He keeps coming — all sculpted chest and strong arms towards me — closing the space between us.

“That’s not exactly what happened. You were making too much noise. It was... distracting.”

“Hearing me moaning with another woman made you so annoyed that you picked the most mood-killing song in the world just to make us stop?” he asks, voice low, eyes darkening as his breath grows heavier.

I don’t reply and A.J. takes two more steps, and every cell in my body lights up in alarm under his darkened gaze as I instinctively step back.

He’s never acted like that.

Never looked at me with such fire.

And I’ve definitely never felt anything like this. Despite all our teasing, there’s never been this tight knot in my stomach or this hot, buzzing sensation climbing up my skin.

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