Home > The Sweetest Thing (SWANK #2)(5)

The Sweetest Thing (SWANK #2)(5)
Author: Maya Hughes

“Why don’t you worry about moving your stuff into your room?”

Her gaze swept up and down me.

My stomach curdled like week-old milk in the summer sun.

“Yeah, I will. Nice meeting you, Hunter. May our paths not cross more than they need to.” She stormed out of the kitchen, and my shoulders and chest deflated like a balloon.

Whipping open the cabinets, I scanned them and grabbed a trash bag from under the kitchen sink.

If she was here, the thirty-seven bags of coffee and case of energy drinks could not be here. It was one thing to go a little overboard when I was all on my own. It was another to have her start prodding.

In the hall, she bumped and banged, getting her things together to get settled into the never-used guest room—her room.

I collected the blanket and pillow I’d passed out on in the living room church-mouse quietly. I picked up all the abandoned coffee and espresso cups and stuck them in the dishwasher. The blankets strewn around the apartment were folded and put back in their places.

Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. I couldn’t pace the apartment at all hours with her here. Maybe I could train myself to sleep earlier. Sleep longer. Sleep at all.

A blessing, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t be pissed as hell about it. This apartment had been my sanctuary. The place where I could enjoy the peace and quiet that wasn’t often part of my life, and recently where I could pace late into the night and wake up screaming all on my own.

Now it was being taken over by a doe-eyed invader.

After working in my office for hours listening to the bumping and thumping in the hallway and not getting a damn thing done, I gave up.

In my bedroom I decided to take the offensive position, not be on defense with her, thrown off guard by Sabrina’s arrival.

I took a quick shower, trying to wake myself up, jerked open my closet door, and flicked through my button-down shirts and creased pants. No need to go full blazer, but I needed to show her I wasn’t the sweatpants-wearing mess crying into a jar of chocolate.

I was Hunter Fucking Saxton.

I was the man everyone came to with whatever anyone needed, and who never let them down. The one who had beautiful women buying him drinks when he went out at night.

I slipped on my shirt and grabbed some cuff links.

There were a few invitations sitting in my inbox. I hadn’t said yes to any yet, but that was about to change. Scrolling through my phone, I found the biggest party of the evening and accepted. The invitation also came from some of the most annoying people on the planet, but sucking it up for a few hours wouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t even seven, and the party wouldn’t kick off until midnight at the earliest. I’d have to find a way to keep myself occupied, which didn’t include staring holes through my bedroom door wondering what was happening on the other side.

I left my bedroom, pulling the door closed behind me.

Sabrina had changed out of her t-shirt. A camisole clung to her, the thin straps along with her bra straps fighting the gravity of her way-more-than-a-handful breasts. They threatened to spill over the top of the stretchy fabric. She brushed the back of her hand across her forehead and looked up before glancing back down at herself.

Fucking busted.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed a flimsy box, lifting it. The side ripped, tearing the box almost in half, which knocked over another box.

Instinct took over and I rushed forward to help her. Out of both boxes tumbled sheets. A lot of sheets. Like, a boutique-hotel amount of sheets. Different colors and fabrics. Some were still in the packaging.

“It’s okay. I’ve got it,” she shouted, lunging for the sheets and kicking them into her room across the wood floor. “Don’t worry about it.” She snatched the package of Millesimo Egyptian cotton sheets from my hands. I’d seen them when doing a favor for a guy living in a Liberty One penthouse a couple months ago. That set was over a grand.

“You look nice. Going out?” Sweaty and panting, she braced her arms on the doorframe—her not-too-obvious attempt to keep me from seeing inside and what she’d unpacked, which also had the side effect of making her camisole ride up, rising over her belly button.

She dropped her arms to yank it down, which dipped it even lower at the top. The mint green of her bra peeked out and her cleavage threatened to spill over the top. Her growl of frustration did nothing to mask the howl of attraction racing through me at full force.

I peered over her shoulder. Inside, stacked against the wall, there were even more sheets. Sheets and camera equipment. What the hell was her deal? “Yeah, headed out to a club opening.”

She blew some strands of hair out of her face and stepped into the hallway. “Wow, club opening. That sounds exciting. I’ll have everything cleared out by the time you’re back.” Using her body like a border collie, she walked me toward the front door.

“I won’t be back until late.” Turning to hide the uncontrollable erection straining against my pants, I talked to her over my shoulder.

Her head bobbed eagerly. “Even better.”

“We need to set a few ground rules.”

She reached around me and opened the front door.

“Awesome idea. We can do that tomorrow.” The door pressed against my shoulder.

“And figure out a schedule—”

“Tomorrow, we can hash it all out then. Have fun at your party. Be safe. Bye.” The door slammed at my back.

I stood in the empty hallway, the silence ringing in my ears.

Why’d it feel like I’d been thrown out of my own apartment?

Probably because I had. I stared at my apartment door. Walking into the elevator, I grumbled and tamped down my frustration. A wave of exhaustion slammed into me. I rubbed my eyes, not wanting to do anything remotely close to partying, but I couldn’t go back into the apartment now.

The pieces weren’t adding up. Why the hell was a woman who had sheets that expensive bumming a free room in my grandmother’s apartment? Whatever it was, I wasn’t giving up. I needed her out of there, quickly.

I’d lived alone since high school, and there was no way I was letting her into my space lying down. A nice, soft bed to lie down on. My eyes slid shut.

The ding of the elevator doors opening woke me from my micro nap. I scrubbed my hands over my face. She needed to leave, and I needed my space. There was no way she was staying in my apartment.

 

 

3

 

 

Sabrina

 

 

I collapsed onto my new bed. The soft comforter clung to my sweaty skin. I groaned. As much as I wanted to pass out and wake up in a few days, showering was a top priority. Crawling into a freshly made bed sweaty and gross would leave me tossing and turning and hating myself, and I was already doing enough of that for two lifetimes.

Grabbing my backpack, I sat on the floor and rifled through my clothes. Seven boxes of sheets and three boxes of neatly organized lighting equipment and a backpack stuffed full of clothes. A girl had to have her priorities straight. Right now, mine were to get clean and fall into a blissful, dreamless sleep brought on by emotional duress and physical exhaustion. Didn’t everyone want to be me?

It was dark outside, but it wasn’t too late, which was weird. Hunter had mentioned going to a club opening. My red-carpet invitations were often lost in the mail, but that seemed like something that would happen later at night. But what the hell did I know? The last time I’d been up past eleven and out of my pajamas had been a year and a half ago, trying to drag Cat into a taxi on the streets of London in February.

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