Page 19 of Hide and Sneak
“No. I veto,” Lila exclaims instantly.
“Too close to home?” Holly teases.
“Ha! I didn’t even make the connection,” Cara exclaims. “You’re living with your brother’s hot best friend! This is a romance book in the making.”
If Lila shakes her head any harder, it might fly off. “Absolutely not. First of all, I’m not living with him. He’s staying with me, temporarily. Second, I don’t like him, and he feels the same.”
Hmm, she didn’t argue that I’m hot.
“Oh, it’s an enemies to lovers story then! We know all about that,” Maren cries, and Lila looks exasperated at their laughter. I have to cover my mouth so they don’t hear me joining in. They’re riling her up way more than I do.
“He really doesn’t seem to dislike you, though,” Holly points out. “It might be more of a grumpy sunshine situation.” She grins at Lila. “You’re the grump.”
Did they just call me a sunshine? I’m not sure whether that’s an insult or not.
Before Lila can reply, Amos interrupts as he grabs his keys to leave. Once he steps out on the porch with me, I hear Louise say, “Do we know any cougar books, maybe with a friend’s brother trope?”
CHAPTER 7
LILA
I’m buzzingfrom the wine and feeling pretty good when my friends leave after book club. Amos is gone for the night, and my plan is to lock myself in my room and get some of my underwear ready to ship tomorrow.
Sutton steps into the hall fresh from the shower. It’s no wonder my friends tease me about him. Any woman living in close quarters with a guy who looks like him would be tempted. Except for me.
He’s dressed only in loose sweatpants, his hair damp. The swelling around his eye has gone down a lot, leaving only two small welts on his cheek. He picks up the bottle of Benadryl and pops another one, washing it down with a large swallow of beer.
“You aren’t supposed to drink alcohol with antihistamines, dumbass,” I sigh, plucking the bottle out of his hand. “Do you want to choke to death in your sleep?”
The instant goofy smile on his face says he’s already feeling the effects. He bats his eyes. “You take such good care of me.”
My giggle is a hundred percent the wine’s fault. “I don’t know what mental disorder you have, but it should be named after you.”
He watches as I reach to open the cabinet above the refrigerator, and grins when my fingers barely reach the bottom edge of the door. It swings open but I can’t reach the cookies I’m after. “Aw, do you need uppies?”
The only response I have for him is a glare while I drag a chair over to stand on.
“Why do you use that cabinet if you can’t reach it?” he asks, pulling a bottle of water from the fridge.
“I don’t usually, but I didn’t want you or Amos to eat all my favorite cookies.”
“So you hid them in a cabinet we can reach, but you can’t? Solid plan.”
He isn’t wrong and it’s annoying. “They were hidden behind the mixing bowls for days.” I hold up the untouched package. “Clearly it worked.”
He wavers a little on his feet. I know he only had two beers but apparently he doesn’t handle antihistamines any better than I do. “Will you go sit down or something?”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“I apologize for being too subtle. Go away.”
His grin only grows. “It will cost you exactly two cookies.” He holds out his hand, palm facing up.
I don’t mind sharing them, but the urge to smash one into his hand is almost irresistible. There are other things for me to get done tonight that don’t include arguing with him. I drop two cookies in his hand and take the rest of the bag with me.
“Thank you, Delilah,” he calls out as I close my bedroom door.
This time I make sure my door is locked. I’m not taking pictures or video tonight, but I still don’t need him barging in. The underwear I’ve worn throughout the week are stored in individual plastic bags and tucked into a small dresser in my closet, where the rest of my supplies are kept. I’ve already takenthe pictures of me wearing them—showing only from my navel down—so all I have to do is get them packaged and labeled then email the clients.
