Am I really going to have to sleep in my car?
“Calli?” When I first heard the voice I thought I'd imagined it. Really, brain? You're going to think about him now? My brain could be such a prick to me sometimes.
It was the warm, manly scent of cologne that forced my head. My eyes must've been in on the joke because what I saw was impossible. There was no way he could be here.
My sexy neighbor, Veto, towered over me with one hand in the pocket of his perfectly tailored suit. I could tell last night that he had good taste, but to see him out of the rain—so crisp, clean and put together... He looks incredible.
His blue eyes cascaded down my body like a waterfall. With a confidence that shook me to my bones, he smiled softly and said, “I have exactly what you need.”
Chapter 3
Calli
Veto was really here. The living man candy was towering over me, making me super conscious of all my flaws; my messy hair, my quickly-done makeup, my rushed outfit. I was a wreck and he was nearly glowing with perfection. I berated myself for not taking a minute to clean myself up in my car. But I'd been so sure it wouldn't matter.
How was this real life?
His words finally sank into my brain. I have exactly what you need.
“Excuse me?” I asked in total disbelief.
I was still bent over my knees trying to figure how and why Veto was even here when I realized my head was right at the level of his belt buckle. My eyes flashed down to his zipper.
If he had a hard-on, he'd be poking me right in the mouth.
My head flashed with delicious images of exactly that. The thought of his big cock had me scissoring my thighs, my panties already wet. It also turned my face bright red. I swallowed hard and straightened up.
The look in Veto's cool eyes told me he knew exactly what was on my mind. “You heard me.”
I would love to not make a fool out of myself just once around him. Just once!
“I—” I cleared my throat and started again. The absurdity of him being in the same hotel as me echoed in my head and muted some of the naughty thoughts that I apparently couldn't get rid of whenever he was around. Was I always this horny? Or was this just something he brought out in me? “What are you doing here? Are you stalking me?”
“That sounds like an awful lot of work. I mean, I already know where you live.” Veto flashed an eyebrow tauntingly, then he pulled out a small paper invite. “Turns out we're going to the same wedding.”
“What? That's crazy!” I looked it over. It was the exact same one I got; he was telling the truth! What were the odds?
“Small world.” Veto shrugged. “When I heard you say Zenya's name last night, I was going to ask you about it, but you bolted on me before I got the chance.”
“I'm sorry about that.” I rubbed the red out of my scrunched up face. God, that was embarrassing. “Are you a friend of Clint's?” Clint was her fiancé, and it was the only thing that made sense. I couldn't picture Zenya keeping a hottie like Veto under wraps—she would have mentioned a friend like that to me, surely!
“Something like that.” Veto's jaw clenched for a moment before relaxing. “I overheard your situation. Do you need a place to crash for the night?”
“Oh, no.” I replied immediately. It was so ingrained in me to turn down help. It was as reflexive as when your knee jerks after the doctor taps it with the mallet. Besides, spending a night with him? The thought made me shiver.
It also made my pussy ache.
“I'll be fine,” I said. “I'll find another hotel. So—”
“Where?” Veto smirked. “New Jersey? Everything in this city is full.” His knowing gaze made it clear that he easily saw through my flimsy excuses. “I insist.”
I pulled in a long ragged breath. “Why are you being so nice to me? That's twice you've pulled my ass out of the fire. I mean—I'm grateful! It's just... You don't know me.”
“Maybe not.” Veto waved over the concierge and pointed to both our bags. “But we all need a helping hand every once in a while. And I can tell you have a good heart.”
I almost wanted to argue with him. How could he possibly know that? Instead, I accepted the compliment. It was such a little thing, but it washed away some of the stress and fatigue. It was nice to hear something, well, nice.
“I'll at least split the cost of the room with you.” I tried to sound demanding, to take back some of the power in the conversation.
“If you want.” The blue in his eyes seemed to deepen somehow. “It's a small room. I think I only have a twin. So you'll have to behave yourself.”
The way he said those first three words sent my heart to galloping like a team of horses. But the last words, about behaving myself, were just as bad. I fought the urge to bite my lip. “I can just sleep in the bathtub,” I laughed dryly. Trying to make my blood stop racing, I stood up. “I'll find a way to make this up to you.”
“I'm sure you will.” Veto placed the key in my hand. The spark of our fingers touching sent tingles across my skin. It made me hold my breath, but if he'd noticed, he didn't act like it; he glanced at his watch. “Wasn't there some sort of luncheon today?”
My eyes flashed. “Oh no! I'm crazy late! Uh, excuse me, we'll... we'll catch up later!”
“Yes,” he chuckled, watching me closely. “We won't have much choice in the matter.”
His reminder about how we'd be sleeping just a few feet from each other made it very easy for me to run from the hotel. I pretended all my energy was because I was late to lunch with Zenya, but deep down, I knew how much Veto was getting to me.
Fortunately, the cafe was a few blocks away, so I had time to walk off some of the crazy sexual frustration.
Someone handed me a charity fundraiser flier while I waited on a crosswalk to change color. I didn’t read the whole thing, but it looked like all the donations went toward helping animals. The event was tonight, and although I would've loved to go to a real New York City fundraiser, I had Zenya's rehearsal dinner. Even if I was free, the fundraiser definitely wasn't. At ten-thousand dollars a plate, the event was hilariously out of my price range. I was definitely not in Roslington anymore.
That put a smile on my face.
I stuffed the flier into my coat pocket and pushed open the door to Pastiche, the trendy Madison Avenue pastry boutique we were all meeting at. I immediately fell in love with the cafe's theme when I walked in. It was a French bakery meets vintage two-wheel motif. Nineteen sixties motorcycles and odd, old, beautifully preserved bicycles were everywhere, even the ceiling! It shouldn't have worked, but it totally did.
“Chili Pepper!” Zenya squealed excitedly. I saw her group of girls right away; they took up half the tiny restaurant. Everyone in the group was just finishing their food when I arrived.
“I swear. You're going to be late to your own funeral, girl.” Zenya rushed over to hug me.
“I think that's the one thing I won't mind being late for.” I squeezed her tightly. The jasmine infused soap she still used immediately brought me back to a simpler, happier time when we were broke roommates who didn't worry about anything except which parties to go to over the weekend.