Sweet (True Believers #2)(7)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“I feel like you’re setting me up to have an ulcer.” He clutched his chest like he was in pain and grimaced. “Or have a heart attack.”

I laughed. “Now who wants an Oscar?”

“I get up at seven for work.”

“A.M.? Ew.”

“So I would appreciate it if you don’t make a ton of noise after eleven at night since I’ll be in bed.”

Why did a shiver just roll up my spine? It was eight billion degrees outside. Oh, yeah, I knew why. It was Riley mentioning the “b” word. Now I was picturing him naked with a sheet up to his waist. “Sure, no problem. I usually work three to eleven, so I’ll be quiet when I come in.”

“You’re not planning on taking the bus back here at night, are you?” The very thought looked like it was increasing the pain in his chest.

“No. I can take a cab. It will only be, like, ten bucks.”

“You can sleep in Jayden and Easton’s room. It has an AC window unit.”

Yes. Yes, yes, yes. “Really? Oh my God, I love you.” I had been imagining sweaty sleepless nights, my thighs stuck together. “Where are you going to sleep?”

“Oh, I have a unit in my room, too. Only Tyler’s room doesn’t have one.”

I would have preferred to sleep in Tyler’s room instead of where a couple of teen and preteen boys were living, but cool air won out over a funk-free environment. “How did Tyler get so screwed?”

“Cuz he’s an ass**le.”

“Well, that clears it up.” I rolled my eyes, picking at my T-shirt to get air circulation between my boobs.

“You can use anything in the kitchen, though I’m not sure why you’d want to. But there are actually real kitchen things now that Rory’s been back around. She bakes and shit.”

“I won’t be baking.” I would rather do just about anything else, frankly.

“That does not surprise me. You and Rory aren’t much alike, are you?”

I shrugged. “I guess not, on the surface. She’s not big on sarcasm or teasing.”

“You have those down pretty good, I’d say.”

“You, too.” Grinning at Riley, I added, “I feel like we should high-five here or something.”

“Don’t get carried away.”

My tongue came out before I could stop it. But he just smiled. “In return for not smoking in the house, I’m asking you to keep your girl shit out of the bathroom.”

Girl shit? “If I can’t keep my shit in the bathroom, where else would it go?” I asked, amused.

“You know what I mean. I don’t want to go to brush my teeth and there isn’t an inch of counter space to use because you have creams and equipment and whatever.”

“Equipment?” I snorted. “I don’t use power tools to get ready in the morning. But fine, I will put my blow-dryer away after each use. And I promise to never ask you to pick up a box of tampons for me on the way home from work.”

The horror on his face made me laugh. “Don’t tell me you have never bought tampons before?”

He shook his head. “I’m a dude. Why would I buy tampons?”

“For a girlfriend.” It seemed obvious to me.

He flicked his spent cigarette off into the yard. I could see there were literally hundreds of butts in the dirt that might have been an actual yard back in about 1965. There was such pride in home ownership at work right here.

“No. I probably would if she was, like, bleeding on my car seats, but otherwise, no.”

Was he for real? “You are so ridiculous. You’re not talking about a bullet wound. Don’t be gross.”

“You’re the one who brought up tampons. And speaking of that whole guy-girl thing . . .”

Were we? I didn’t think we were, but this could be interesting. “Yes?”

“If you have Nerd Boy or someone over here, that’s fine, whatever, just keep it down, okay? And wash my brother’s sheets the next day. Laundry is in the basement.”

My jaw fell so fast and far it was amazing it didn’t land in my lap. “I hadn’t really given any thought to it. Since it’s only a week, I think I can manage to hold off on hookups. But feel free to do whatever yourself. You don’t even need to keep it down—I have earplugs. Kylie snores.”

What the hell was I saying? Earplugs crammed into my cranium wouldn’t drown out the sound of sex if I knew to listen for the sound of sex. The last thing in the freaking world I wanted was for Riley to be banging some chick just a few feet and a thin wall away from me.

But why was that exactly? It wasn’t like I wanted to bang him. Not really.

A horrible thought occurred to me. With the house to himself, maybe Riley had been envisioning a week of brother-free boning. Maybe he had a girlfriend. He could. How would I know? No, wait. He’d said he didn’t want a relationship, so there wasn’t a girlfriend. That didn’t mean he hadn’t been planning on a sweaty sexfest, though.

I wondered what Riley’s type was. I realized I had no clue.

Then again, I wasn’t sure I knew what my own type was.

“That’s very considerate of you,” he said dryly.

“I’m like that,” I told him. “What can I say?”

“So you don’t mind if I have a girl over?” He was studying me, his brown eyes indecipherable.

Yes. “No.” I waved my hand. “God, why would I care? I mean, it’s your house. You should be able to do what you want, right? House Rule Number One.”

Riley nodded slowly. “Right. Thanks for understanding.”

That was me, being a big person. I wanted to beat the shit out of myself for being so stupid. This was what being nice got you—your worst nightmare. I may want to throw beer cans at Riley on a regular basis, but I did not want to see him making out with some giggling twit on the couch. Because she would be a twit, that was a guarantee. She would also be pretty and I would hate her for it.

And now I was jealous of a fictional girl. Fabulous.

I stood up. “I need some water or something. My throat is super dry. If you think of any other rules, let me know.” I needed to get away from him. “I think I’ll run to the store and get some essentials like diet pop and yogurt.” Possibly an air freshener or two.

“And how are you going to get to the store, princess?”

Riley wasn’t easy to charm, but I went for it. I gave him a pleading smile. “I was hoping I could borrow your car?” I showed lots of teeth and pulled my shoulders up by my ears. It usually worked with most guys.