Page 66 of The One I Hate
“Are you ever not a smart ass?”
“I think you know the answer to that question, Bug.”
I bend over to grab my sponge, which I am now just realizing gives him a clear view down my shirt. Part of me wants to hit myself for doing that, but the other part of me, the one who is now noticing him swallowing a huge lump in his throat, is glad she put on the free show.
Good. Glad I’m not the only one suffering right now.
I start to turn back to continue my window washing when Simon starts walking toward me, paralyzing me in place.
His eyes are heated. Burning. They remind me of the night—from what I remember—in the hotel. I remember my body being on fire from just his gaze.
It’s my turn to swallow the lump in my throat. “What are you doing?”
He uses a finger to gently brush away some of the soap bubbles that are on my face.
“You just had a little something on you.”
It takes everything in my power to not lean into his touch. Because it would be too easy to do it. To ask for a repeat of that night. He’s already half naked. Hell, I’m not far behind him. It would be so easy…
Then the sound of a loud and irritating alarm goes off, breaking me from my trance.
“Oops! Time for another lap!” Simon says, moving back from me, completely unfazed. “See you in a few minutes, Bug!”
And just like that, he’s off and running, leaving me more hot and bothered than I’d like to admit.
So I do what every other rational woman would do in this situation—I throw my sponge at him.
Chapter 16
Simon
There are things about me that always seem to surprise people, no matter how long they know me.
Everyone thought because I was the pretty boy who didn’t like to get dirty that I’d be horrible at football. Wrong. I was the best running back in the county my junior and senior years. I also had the best game day fits.
People think because I’m not hurting in the money department that I’m an entitled asshole. Little do they know I’ve been working since I was fourteen and give half of my money to charity. Or spend it on family and friends.
People also think because I’m the perpetual single man who has never had a serious relationship, that I must hate weddings. And those people couldn’t be more wrong. I love weddings. Open bar? Good music? A dance floor that I can take over? Now that’s my kind of night.
And tonight’s wedding is no exception. Well, wedding reception. Wedding bash? I don’t know what Oliver and Izzy are calling it, I just know it’s a damn good time.
I mean, it should be, I’m playing the music. My pre-dinner music has had people on and off the dance floor since they came in. And no one is ready for my “After the wedding cake” playlist.
“Uncle Simon! Uncle Simon!”
I look down to see my seven-year-old goddaughter, Magnolia, jumping and waving her arms for me.
“Easy there,” I say, taking a step toward her before kneeling down to her eye level. “Have I told you how pretty you look tonight?”
She shakes her head, but smiles as she does a little twirl in her pink flower girl dress. “Thank you. Do you like my dress? It has pockets!”
“I love it!” I say as I stand up. “What do you think about my suit?”
She giggles as I show off the bright pink suit I’m wearing. To match her. Because she asked me to.
I might be ruthless in real estate, but I’m a goner when it comes to this kid.
“You look silly.”
