Chapter 3
Sydney
The stupid wheels on the bottom of my suitcase snagged on the cheap brown carpet outside Kyler’s apartment, throwing me off-balance. Hair flew into my eyes as I teetered to the side. I threw my hand out, trying to steady myself, and at the last second the items I’d precariously held in my grip started to slip.
I had to make a terrible choice, and quick. Drop the e-reader or the cappuccino.
Both things were necessary for survival, but the e-reader was like a precious wittle baby, so fragile and important to me.
Tightening my hold on the e-reader, I let the coffee hit the floor and go splat, spreading dark liquid across the carpet like a gruesome crime scene.
I sighed.
Well, the yoga classes I’d been taking two nights a week after my Psychology and Law class apparently hadn’t done crap for my reflexes. I picked up the cardboard cup and tossed it in the trashcan by the elevator.
Taking a deep breath, I rapped my knuckles on the door and shifted my weight impatiently. Several seconds passed and I didn’t hear a thing, not even the soft patter of footsteps. I knocked again, and when there was no answer the second time I turned around and leaned my back against the door.
Kyler was a heavy sleeper. I didn’t even bother trying to call his cell. Nothing short of a nuclear bomb would wake him up.
My gaze flicked to the e-reader. Damn it, I’d lost my page. And it was just getting good. Hades had shown up in a convenience store. Le sigh. Tapping the screen, I went back several—
The door behind me suddenly opened, and I was falling into empty space. I twisted around, my hand colliding with warm, bare flesh. Warm, hard bare flesh. A strong arm went around my waist, catching me before I face-planted on a flat, brown male nipple.
Oh dear God in Heaven…
I jerked back, breaking the hold. Air rushed out of my lungs and my eyes went wide. I was face-to-face with the perfect pecs—the kind of pecs anyone would want to touch. My eyes did this wandering thing without my consent, and there was so much golden flesh on display that it was like a scene from Magic Mike coming alive. Messed-up thing was that I’d seen Kyler half-naked more times than I cared to admit, but doing so never failed to amaze me.
Kyler was an avid runner and skier when the seasons were right, which was reflected in his body. Smooth skin stretched over ridiculously defined abs. He even had those indents on the inside of his narrow hips. There was a little brown mole just left of his belly button. For some reason, I was always fascinated by that tiny dot.
He was wearing boxers—boxers with red Santa hats and multicolored presents on them. Now that was a Christmas package a lot of people wouldn’t mind finding tucked under their Christmas tree.
A lot of people included me.
Heat swamped my cheeks. My brain was so going to get a stern talking to, but Kyler… yeah, he put that ‘oo’ in swoon.
Full lips curved into a half-smirk, like he knew what I was thinking, his brown hair was in a serious need of a brush. It looked like he’d spent the night with someone running their fingers through it.
My stomach dropped. I’d gone back to the dorm last night before he’d left the bar. He wouldn’t have brought Blondie home. Wait. What was I thinking? He so would’ve brought Blondie home.
“You smell like… French vanilla cappuccino.”
I blinked. His voice was deep and raspy from sleep. “Huh? Oh, I dropped my coffee. Sorry.”
A half-smile appeared. “You’re early.”
“No I’m not.”
“You’re early as usual,” he continued, stepping aside. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of water being turned on in the bathroom. He sighed. “You’re not going to be happy.”
I felt the blood rush out of my face, which was stupid. I totally did not care with a capital D. “I’m fine. I can wait in the hallway.”
Kyler looked back at me with a frown. “You’re not waiting in the hallway, Syd.”
He brushed past me and went out in the hall, completely uncaring that anyone and baby Jesus could see him half naked. I got a full view of the lean muscles of his back. He had a tattoo—an intricate lettering that was mostly slashes—curling down his spine. It was some kind of tribal lettering he’d gotten when he was eighteen. I had no idea what it meant. No one did.
But that wasn’t his only tattoo. My lips split into a grin.
He’d lost a bet with Tanner over a football game and ended up with a red heart tattooed on his right ass cheek.
Kyler was a man of his word.
Grabbing my suitcase, he grunted. “What did you pack in here? A legion of fat and angry babies?”
I would’ve rolled my eyes, but they were glued to the way the muscles in his arm popped. Geez. I needed a lobotomy. “It’s not that heavy.”
“You’ve over-packed.” He set the suitcase just inside the apartment, and then closed the door. “It’s only five days, Syd, not a month.”
“Whatever,” I muttered, daring a glance down the narrow hallway. The water had turned off. “So…”
“Make yourself comfy.” As he swaggered by, he tweaked my nose. I smacked at him, but he easily dodged my hand and laughed. “Whatcha reading?”
“None of your business.” I followed him into the neat living room. For a twenty-one year old guy, he liked to keep things tidy, which was surprising because at home he’d had a maid picking up after him. But it hadn’t always been like that for him.
“Nice title.”
I stopped behind the olive-green sofa. “Nice boxer shorts. Did your mom get them for you?”
“No. Your mom did.”
“Hardy har har.”
Glancing over his shoulder, he winked as he hooked his thumbs into the band of his boxers, sliding them down so the very top of his ass peeked out.
“Oh my God.” I leaned over the couch, picked up a throw pillow, and threw it at him.
He caught it with startling reflexes and tossed it back. The pillow bounced off my chest and hit the floor. “You liked it.”