Page 13 of Bad Boy Next Door
Five
Nick
An hour later, right on the dot, she was back at my door.
“What? No baking?” I shook my head. I’d polished off the plate of brownies—rich and chewy—not long after she’d left. I could eat more.
Her lips twitched and her shoulders tightened like she was trying to swallow her response—probably some comment on me being a pig for eating all the brownies—but clearly she was trying to be on her best behavior. For some reason, I found her tough-girl act adorable.
Who knew why she thought she owed me something, but it would be fun to screw with this girl. Watch her squirm. Just for a few hours.
She’d been rude, plus it was all in good fun. Besides, I’d be killing a few birds with one stone since Keagan had asked me to keep an eye on the new tenant.
For some reason Jade thought I’d lined up a job for her, and I was glad I could deliver on that front. Stan had agreed to give her a shot at the open cocktail waitress job at the club. He’d taken my word on her hotness. Her denim shorts and tank top were baggy, but it wasn’t hard to imagine what lay beneath. Grinning, I checked out her ass as she walked past me into the room.
“So?” Turning toward me, she put her hands on her hips. “You asked me to come back?” She glanced around my apartment, clearly judging. This girl wasnotgood at hiding her feelings.
“Like you said. My maid hasn’t been by for a few days.”
“Days?” She snorted, then squeezed her lips together.
Stifling a chuckle, I did my best to look angry at her dig. I was a slob. I could own that. And it had been months since I’d made any attempt to tidy this place. My brothers normally got together at Keagan’s, and I rarely brought women here.
Guilt crept in. I couldn’t let Jade clean my apartment, especially under false pretenses. “Never mind. You don’t have to…”
She blinked and stepped forward. “No. Sorry. It’s okay. I offered. It’s no trouble. Where can I find supplies?”
“What do you need?”
“A shovel?” Shaking her head, she reached forward in an apologetic gesture. “I’m kidding. Um, maybe garbage bags for a start? Do you recycle?”
“I’m very environmentally conscious.” I winked. “There are bags in the cupboard above the fridge.” I dropped into my favorite chair, the only piece of furniture not covered in garbage.
She actually seemed excited about the cleaning, and if I could push past the guilt, I’d get this girl back for yesterday’s rudeness.
She pulled a bar stool over to the fridge and climbed on top, holding onto the fridge as the seat swiveled beneath her feet. “Shit.” She caught her balance.
“Need some help?” I watched as she opened one side of the cupboard.
“I’m fine.” She rose on her toes, and the seat swiveled again.
I leapt up, raced over, and grabbed her hips.
“Get off me.” Her arm swatted my hands away.
“You were falling.”
“You scared the shit out of me.” Her hands gripped the edge of the fridge, her knees slightly bent and her chest pressed against the freezer door.
“Sorry.” Was I apologizing for saving her from falling?
Resting my left hand on the top corner of the fridge, I reached around her and pulled out the box of garbage bags. I lingered longer than I needed to, inhaling her scent—chocolate and vanilla and sexiness—and resisted the sudden urge to lick the tiny curls resting below her ponytail.
I backed off, leaving the box on the counter. “Need help getting down?”
“I’m fine.” The seat twisted again, but she caught her balance and jumped off.
With a slight sigh, she donned ear buds, connected to what I assumed was a phone in her back pocket, and started shoving trash into bags, sorting recyclables into one, everything else into another.
