Page 15 of Fake Love

Hungry.

“Want to come upstairs?”

4

Jennifer

The second my front door is open and my hands are free of all my belongings, I’m grabbing my phone and shooting off a text message.

ME: Hunty can have you tonight!! I made other plans!!!

Selena must have been waiting for me to text her because she’s sending a message right as mine says delivered.

SEL: A boy??

She knows me so well. I love my best friend.

ME: Yes ma’am!!!

SEL: I don’t even want to know how you found someone so fast.

Not wanting to spend the next hour or so telling her how it came that Maddox is now walking into my apartment, I ignore her message. After placing my phone face down on the nearest surface, I turn to face my guest who just walked into my tiny apartment and is closing the door behind him.

When he told me that he wanted to walk me home, I was shocked, floored and every synonym of those two words, I thought for sure that I had heard him wrong or that he was just pulling my leg.

But the sincerity in his face told me otherwise.

He really wanted to walk me home and to make sure that I got back here safely.

Then he told me that he found me intriguing, and I tried so hard not to melt into a small puddle.

I don’t know why, but his actions plus his words, made this man one hundred times more hotter to me. Not just hot, sexy hot and enough to make me want to jump his bones right there on the street.

I didn’t of course, but I wanted to.

Now he’s standing in the middle of my apartment, looking around like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

He is sexy, hot and adorable.

“You can say it, I live in a shoe box.” I say, breaking the tension that is floating around us.

Do I make it a mission to invite strange men that walk me home into my place?

No.

I actually don’t remember when the last time was that I had a man in here that wasn’t my dad or Selena’s boyfriend, Hunter.

Usually when it comes to me and my activities with men, it's either their place, a car, a bathroom somewhere, or a hotel room.

Never here. I do have boundaries after all.

But for some reason, I wanted Maddox in my space and I don’t know why.

“I wouldn’t say that you live in a shoe box.” He tells me, looking around at the crowded area.

“I would. It’s a shoe box that cost over two thousand dollars.”

The way he kept his eyes from going a bit wide at how much I pay for rent is definitely not how I reacted when hearing the same information for the first time.

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