Page 72 of Room 4 Rent

“I want dino nuggets.”

“I don’t have any.”

She frowns and crosses her arms over her chest, like bitch, now I know you’re lying.

“Okay, how about you try two bites?”

The furrow deepens, and it’s adorable. When she was born, she came out scowling, and I thought it was the cutest thing ever. Fists up, scowling, and ready to take on the world. She’s been kicking ass and taking names ever since.

“Fine.” She blows out a breath. “But can I watchFrozen?”

“Yes.”

I wait. She picks up the fork, takes one bite, and spits it out. “It’s yucky.”

Groaning, I turn toward the kitchen and take out the dino nuggets from the freezer. I know, I’m a pushover. I have to pick my battles. Ones that don’t come with me sitting at that damn table all night begging her to eat something she hates.

It’s after seven. I’ve eaten already, as did Tatum. Dino nuggets dipped in applesauce.

I’ve set up a spot at the eating booth with a plate, napkin, glass… it looks like a damn restaurant. Why am I doing this? Is sex really the answer? I told him he could rent the room, and the moment he works his way into my life, he wants to offer up his dick too?

Who is this guy?

Hello, I’m Sydney, and I have an addiction. His name is Cason Jarrett Reins, and I’d like to know how I can resist him. Is there some kind of vaccine?Please let there be one!

Tempted to run over and remove the note, forget about serving him dinner, that’s when I hear a knock at the back french doors. I glance over, my heart in my throat.

With shaking in my goddamn bones, I make my way over to the back doors. I’m sure you can guess what Tatum’s doing. WatchingFrozenand ripping all the couch cushions off the furniture. Jumping from one to the next, she treats them like stepping-stones as she sings, “Do you wanna build a snowman?” while it’s seventy-five degrees outside.

I catch sight of Cason, his hair disheveled and eyes bright. “Hey, honey, I’m home,” he whispers seductively and grabs my ass when he comes in.

Thankfully, Tatum doesn’t notice. I motion toward the booth. “Cute. Now eat.”

“Bossy. I like it.” He glances toward the kitchen booth. Something, an emotion, I’m not sure, but it flickers in his eyes, and then it’s gone just as easily. His eyes move to mine. “You made me food?”

“Yeah. Did you eat already?”

He shakes his head and drops his hand where his phone is ringing. He ignores it and slides it into his pocket. “No. Ez stole my Chipotle.”

I smile. “He did his job. I shall give him Sadie’s number now.”

Cason’s shoulders shake. “You really shouldn’t be using Ez as your ally.”

“I’ll take my chances.” We move toward the table.

A smirk surfaces as he sits down and eyes the spread I’ve laid out on the table. “You cooked for me?”

I swallow over the lump forming. “I made dinner. I didn’t cook for you specifically.” I’m the worst liar ever.

He quirks his head to the side quickly and then back. “I think you did, and you don’t want to admit it.”

I slide into the booth across from him. “Cat’s out of the bag.”

His eyes move to the plate. “You made me Thanksgiving?” You can’t miss the spark of emotion in his eyes and the trip in his words. At least I don’t.

I nod.

“I haven’t had a homecooked meal in five years.”

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