Page 55 of Drop Three

It’s sort of…cute.

Bodhi personifies a secure man with a face of solid steel.

He never shifts for anyone, means what he says, and lives by the saying,what you see is what you get,and I respect the hell out of him for it.

So, it feels quite domestic to see him this way—comfortable and catching up on literature. Something I never expected to find a man like him doing.

I’ve already descended the stairs, making it impossible for me to go unnoticed. Bodhi’s head turns in my direction and the reading glasses sitting across his nose melt me on the spot.

Holy shit. He’s gorgeous.

I’ve never had the pleasure of seeing Bodhi with glasses on, and it soars my attraction for him to new heights.

The thick black frames are workingwellfor him.

Perfect. Just what I needed—another reason to crave him.

God, I can picture him now…on his knees for me…looking at me with such intensity.

Fuck—I have a glasses kink.

Who would have ever thought? Certainly not me.

He stares at me questionably. “Sorry, I’m hungry,” I tell him.

He chuckles lightly, scooting himself up slightly on the couch before sliding his glasses off and bringing one end to his mouth.

He looks like a blond Clark Kent.

Heaven help me.

I feel a sudden urge to pounce on him. I’m used to acting without thinking, and in those cases, the outcome typically works out in my favor. But with Bodhi, the opposite is required for me to keep my dignity. I have to be methodical in moving forward with ourfriendship.

Pouncing on him would definitely give him the wrong idea.

“You a late-night snacker?” he asks.

I laugh. “I’d hardly call nine o’clock late, but yes. Where’s the cereal you were eating earlier? I could put down some tiger cereal.”

Bodhi smirks. “Tiger cereal? Do you meanFrosted Flakes?”

“Nope. I mean tiger cereal. They’re greeeeatttt,” I respond, giving him my best Tony the Tiger impression.

I open the pantry door in search of my current craving but come up empty. I know there’s cereal here somewhere because Bodhi was eating a healthy bowl of the addicting sugary breakfast food.

But where is it?

Bodhi must be watching me from afar as I search for the wicker basket because he calls to me from the couch, “Bottom shelf in the wicker basket.”

Oh, hell to the yeah.There it is.

I slide the massive basket out from the corner of the pantry and find at least twenty stacked and neatly sealed bags of every kind of cereal imaginable.

Fruity Pebbles, Fruit Loops, Tiger cereal, Trix, Honey-Nut Cheerios, Golden Grahams, Lucky Charms, Cinnamon Toast Crunch—limitless sugar coma options.

I reach for the Tiger cereal, slide the basket back in its place, and yell to Bodhi from the pantry, “Why do you keep these babies hidden?”

“Because they’re my favorite.” I turn quickly to find Bodhi directly behind me and in my space. “Oh…mine too…” I reply hesitantly.

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