Page 25 of Bad Boy Next Door
Nine
Nick
Showered and starving, I knocked on Jade’s door. It was quarter to four in the morning, but I noticed some movement across the courtyard on the second-floor hallway. If NYC was the city that never slept, Shady Oaks was the apartment complex that didn’t.
No one came to her door, so I knocked again.
I was starting to think that she’d backed out or fallen asleep, when the door opened. Her head was wrapped in a towel, her body in another.
I grinned. “You didn’t need to get all dressed up for me.”
“Hardee har har.” She gave me the finger. “Come in. I’ll just be a minute.”
It was all I could do to keep from grabbing her, kissing her, taking a good look at what was under that towel, but I got distracted by the scents filling the room.
“Something smells great,” I said, as she tucked into her bedroom.
Her place was similar to mine except that she barely had any furniture and, well, had a lot less mess. But then again, the mess was gone from my place now, too.
A tiny old sofa sat in front of her fireplace, and she had what looked like a folding card table with two mismatched wooden chairs by the kitchen. That was the sum total of her furniture.
She came out of the bedroom, her long dark curls wetting her baggy T-shirt, below which she wore a pair of plaid men’s boxer shorts. If I had to guess, she was purposefully trying to look unsexy after her night in that skimpy uniform, but she might as well give up on that. Jade couldn’t pull off unsexy no matter how hard she tried. At least not from where I stood.
Her legs looked hot and strong, stretching out from the baggy boxers that were loose enough that I’d be able to push my hands up her thighs and…
Great. Now all I could think of was doing just that.
Fuck, I wanted this woman.
She turned on the flame under what looked like an antique frying pan, one of those super heavy ones a cartoon character would use to hit an enemy over the head.
“How do you like your eggs?” Bending to peer at the flame under the pan, she adjusted the knob, then straightened.
“Doesn’t matter,” I answered. “Sunny-side up?”
“Sunny-side up it is.”
She bent again to check on whatever was in the oven. I smelled bacon but couldn’t see any on the stove. What Icouldsee was how tight her rounded ass looked. Fucking hot, even in those plaid boxers.Especiallyin those boxers.
I forced myself to look away. “You don’t have much furniture.”
“No kidding.” She grabbed a stick of butter and a carton of eggs from the fridge. “It was you who claimed this place was furnished.”
“I did?”
“Well, whoever talked to my dad said it was furnished.”
“Oh.” I winced. What else had the person she’d mistaken me for told her da? “Some of the furnished units have more stuff than others. Looks like someone cleaned this place out.”
“Who lived here before me?” She dropped a huge chunk of butter into the pan, and it started to melt.
“Barely saw him. He must’ve worked during the day because we never crossed paths.”
Using a dishtowel to protect her hand, she lifted the frying pan and let the butter roll around until the surface was coated. Once again, I admired her strength, her arm muscles firing as she manipulated the heavy pan. Who needed a gym when you had a frying pan like that?
“It’s okay about the furniture,” she said. “I have a foam camping mat. Plus beggars can’t be choosers, right?” Grinning, she looked over her shoulder. “Isn’t that what you said?”
“You don’t even have a bed?” I walked toward the bedroom.
