Page 50 of Just My Type of wrong guy

“Can I Pinterest it?” she asks, excited by the idea, and I look away to hide a smile.

“It’s your little nook,” I blick at her. “Go wild.”

“But I’m only here for a month. You don’t mind if I mess with everything?”

“Three months.”

She looks at me, confused.

“We’ll be home between shows.”

“Right. Makes sense. But what if you have someone important over? I can crash in the guest room.”

I think about how only the band ever visits. But I don’t say it.

“I want you to feel at home, Alex.” I step closer, my hands finding her waist. “We should buy your decorations tomorrow. This place needs your vibe.”

She reaches up, pulling my hair into a bun.

“I’m down to go out with you, once I’ve had some proper food,” she agrees as I bend down so she can tie the knot. “But the time? No idea. I’ll still be jet-lagged,” she adds.

“Do you cook?”

“No. Why?” The question must’ve offended her — Alexandra pulls her hands from my shoulders and takes a step back.

“‘Cause I can give you a beautiful house, but no chef patch update. We’ll order something.”

“Perfect.”

“So… what now?”

She glances at the bed, the suitcases.

“A shower and then…” Alexandra stretches before looking back at me. “We can start with the movie, you’ll help me tidy this place up when we decorate.”

“Alright then, let’s watchThe Hunchback of Notre Dame.” My answer makes her tense up and frown.

“Bit heavy for a first one, don’t you think?”

“A cartoon won’t break me.”

She laughs like I’m ridiculous.

“If you say so... Wanna shower and order food?” she asks, dragging one of the suitcases to the wardrobe and looking at me.

I grab the other suitcase and step closer, gently fixing her hair — some stubborn curls slipping out of the messy tie.

“Is that ‘wanna shower’ an invitation?” I murmur against the warm skin of her neck, watching her shiver at the sound of my voice.

Before the satisfied smile can fully form on my face, Alexandra spins around and plants both hands on my chest.

“Don’t take advantage of a bilingual girl, you sneaky flirt,” she scolds, pushing me out.

“You didn’t even let me show you the bathroom.”

Alex hesitates, almost glancing over her shoulder – but instead narrows her eyes and keeps pushing me until I’m out of the room.

“I can make it there on my own!” she shouts, making me chuckle as I stare at the Miss Petulant’s Little Nook sign on her door.

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