Page 8 of Slow Burn
In answer, his head swiveled from side to side, the goofy look on his face almost melting my heart. Before I turned into a big softie—which always happened around Sheldon since he'd been with me through some of the toughest times of my life—I stabbed my spoon in his direction. "Don't do it again."
Although, I wouldn't mind getting another look at Mr. Personality.
"Ugh!" Annoyed, I pushed to my feet and rinsed my bowl and spoon. I seriously needed a hug from a guy, or rather I needed his bits to hug my bits, so I didn't go around fantasizing about my grumpy ass neighbor and his big hands and stupid mouth.
An annoying ping sounded from my phone, reminding me that I needed to get my ass in gear, or I would be late for work. And the absolute last thing I needed was for my dad to have something else to hold over my head.
Maddie couldn't cut it in New York and now she can't even show up for work on time.
It hadn't always been like that, and I honestly had no doubts that both my parents loved Jennah and me fiercely. They simply didn't understand that their dreams and our dreams didn't have to be the same.
Dropping to my haunches, I raked my fingers through the impossibly soft fur on Sheldon's head before bounding up the stairs to get myself ready for the day. I was back downstairs and putting my pup in his crate twenty minutes later.
I kissed him on the nose and with a quick "Be good," I pushed to my feet and hurried out of the house, taking extra care to leave the sliding doors open just a smidge. I couldn't leave Sheldon outside with no supervision, and it didn't feel right for him to have no fresh air.
Maybe not the safest choice but nothing bad had ever happened in our little town, so didn't worry about it too much.
As I made my way to my light blue Prius, the need to search out Mr. Personality was too strong to ignore. I wish I knew why that idiot of a man intrigued me so. There was this nibbling feeling in my gut that it had to do with way more than his good looks andimpeccable manners.
Or maybe I really just needed my vagina to hug someone's penis.
Pushing all thoughts of my somewhat tortured and extremely sexy neighbor to the back of my head, I slid behind the wheel of my car and made the ten-minute drive to the hardware store.
Just as I slipped through the door, my back pocket buzzed. With a quick reach behind me, I pulled my phone out and swiped the screen to life. My grin spreading almost immediately.
Frankie: I've decided you need to get laid.
My fingers flew over the little screen.
Me: You decided, huh? Since it's my bits we're talking about here, shouldn't I be the one making the decisions?
Of course, my deprived brain would conjure up an image of my neighbor at the mere mention of a little action between the sheets. And I really, really couldn't help but wonder how all that grumpiness would look on him when he was naked and moving over me.
Clearly, I needed help.
The phone I was still clutching vibrated against my palm, saving me from the twisted path my thoughts had taken.
Frankie: Since you're the one holding her hostage, no.
My thumbs hovered above the screen, ready to fire back a response when I heard my dad's gravelly, "Morning, Madison." Instead of giving her the smartass comeback I had planned, I typed a quick, 'gotta go.'
"Hi, Dad." I slipped my phone back inside my pocket and jerked my chin toward the box he was carrying. "New stock?"
"Yes, it's that acrylic paint your sister insisted we get." He stopped a few feet in front of me, his gaze everywhere except on me. I hated this. Hated how we couldn't be together for even a minute without it being awkward as hell.
Behind my ribs, my heart squeezed violently. Emotion crawled up my throat and I swallowed hard to push it back down. "Do you want me to shelve it?"
"Shelve it?" My dad's thick brows pulled together. Blinking a few times, he shook his head slightly before shoving the box into my hands. "If you can be done before lunch, that would be great."
And then he was gone, leaving me to wonder if I'd ever have a normal relationship with him at all.
A heavy sigh blew over my lips as I hoisted the box higher and shuffled to the aisle where we kept the paint supplies. One by one, I slid the small tubes onto the empty space on the shelf, regretting taking my parents up on this job offer.
Maybe I'd subconsciously believed the hardware store was the best I could do, or maybe there'd been a partof me that in spite of everything had still wanted to make them proud.
Whatever it'd been, I'd grabbed this job they'd created for me with both hands.
And now it was draining me.
