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going to be so bad for me if he just wants to be friends.
dump your bag there for now,” I tell him, tossing the keys on the console next
to the door that I bought just for that purpose and dropping my laptop bag too.
“I’ll give you the twenty-cent tour.”
still grinning as he closes the door and drops his bags next to mine.
area and kitchen.” I wave at the open-plan space, which is actually a pretty
great size for an apartment in South Yarra, and then head toward the short
hallway. “Bathroom is here”—I open the door on my way past so he can see
it—“and this is the spare room-slash-office-slash storage room.” I hesitate,
then push open my bedroom door. “And this is my room.”
peers into the spare room, then saunters past me into my bedroom. Paul Hanks is in my bedroom, and his big, warm body
brushed against mine when he entered. My mouth is so fucking dry right now.
walks over to stand beside the bed and looks around. It’s nothing special,
really—bed, nightstands, dresser, wardrobe, rug. The view from the window isn’t
bad, but it’s not exactly a selling point either. At least I made the bed this
to face me, he raises an eyebrow. “Are you just going to stand there?”
a long moment, I don’t understand. Then he raises his hand to his shirt and
begins unbuttoning it, and awareness comes crashing in on me.
“Oh thank fuck!”