Page 33 of Ella Gets the D
I’m not fast enough to snatch back the gasp that escapes into the air around us. Heat floods my body at the memory of his fingers curled around my neck, gripping my hips. Caressing my breasts. I want to etch the blush in his cheeks and the yearning in his eyes deep into my heart as a reminder to my soul that I’m worthy of adoration.
“I’m sorry I thought you were a dream.” I bite my lip at the Lance Gross look-alike. Had I met him at the bar, I might’ve worked up the courage to have my first one-night stand. “If it wasn’t clear before, I’m out of my element here.”
“Do you feel safe?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“That’s all that matters.”
Trust shines in his eyes, which are the same shape and color as my best friend’s. His gaze conveys a quiet assurance. “Okay,” I say.
“Okay.”
Jazz and unspoken words fill the car on the seventeen-minute ride back home.
Home.
When we get there, Julian grabs his suitcase from my room and says goodnight before heading downstairs to his new domain. It’s almost seven in the morning by the time I close my eyes and my thoughts abandon any attempt to make sense of my new housemate.
Chapter 13
Ella
Ihad every intention of calling Morgan after I woke up, once the fog of grinding on her brother and staying up well past my bedtime wore off, but I didn’t get the chance. I crack an eye open and see a figure by my side, one with crossed arms and a frightening glare.
“What the hell, Morgan?!” I clutch my chest to soothe the pressure holding my breath hostage and scurry away from this demon dressed in pink Chanel.
“Yes,the hell.” She tosses her pocketbook on the bed. “You had me worried sick! I called and texted to make sure you got home okay.” She adjusts the crewneck on her tweed blazer dress.
“So you break in? I was asleep!”
Now that I’m on my feet—shaky ones, at that—I take Morgan in. Her shoulders are stiff, her eyes damp.
My friend, ever the worrier. She’s the mom who sends a second lunch to school with Duke in case one of his friends forgets theirs at home. Apparently she’ll also pop up at your new place as a personal search and rescue party if you don’t return her texts.
“I’m sorry.” I sigh. “I had a…weird night and fell asleep a few hours ago. I stayed out for a little with Erica. Did you text her?”
Morgan plops down in the reading chair, her legs spread out in front of her to show off the white platform heels strapped around her ankles. “Erica isn’t answering either.”
I look ready for a potato sack race in these damn sheets. I’d untangle myself, but I don’t need another member of the Brooke family seeing my titties in this bedroom.
I’m winded by the time I reach her. Jesus, I need to work out. “Her friend probably had her tied up all night.”
Morgan stares down at her hands. “Must be nice.”
The thunder of heavy footsteps drowns out my attempt to ask what’s wrong. The door flies open, and we scream in perfect harmony at a man charging in with a war cry and a sword.
At some point during the scuffle, I hopped over Morgan. The sheet puddles at the bottom of the small end table I’m on top of like I saw a mouse and not the man running in here ready to off us. I hop down and pull the soft Egyptian cotton over my front. For the second time this morning, I find myself shouting, “What the hell?” Only this time it’s because bare-chested Julian in sweatpants has my voice in a stranglehold.
Rewind. Seeing Julian panting, with steel raised over his head, switches my fear to intrigue. I felt the smooth planes of his muscles wrestling between the sheets last night. But seeing them in the sunlight should come with a warning label. The muscles in his arms flex the tattoos on his chest and bicep. He’s not jacked in a heavy on-the-protein shake and questionable substances kind of way, but those pecs are the size of my cheek meat—and not the cheeks on my face.
I take the scenic route down to the valley of his abs and muscled butt, which is covered in cotton slung low on his hips. Are those two dimples in his lower back?
Horror drains from Morgan’s face. In its place is an uncontrollable grin. “Juju Bean! You’re home!” She leaps into his arms.
“Hey, Mac.” He pulls her in and kisses the side of her slicked-back ponytail.
She smacks his broad chest in a blow only an older sister could deliver.
