Something About a Hot Guy

My hair was ratted up in a messy twist high up on top of my head, a clump of toothpaste dried on the zit on my forehead.

Kill me now.

Clumsy, clueless, Kenna.

It’s what he’d call me every time I’d come stumbling into their kitchen, getting all out of sorts when I’d find him sitting at their high bar, shirtless, eating cereal like a rockstar.

Did rockstars eat cereal?

If they didn’t, they should.

He was the one who’d been clueless. Clueless that he was responsible for it all, evoking that reaction. Making me nervous and needy and ruffled and flustered.

Liable to trip.

Wishing when I landed, it’d be right into his big, capable hands. At least, I’d imagined a million times just how capable those hands would be.

Dropping my head, I tried to inconspicuously rub the toothpaste from my face.

No chance he would notice, right?

I was pretty sure the only thing I managed to do was smear it.

A rough chuckle rumbled around in his chest. “Oh, Kenna . . . how I’ve missed you.”

I was pretty sure I got whiplash when he said it with the way my head snapped up, eyes going wide with his words. Then it was me who was taking in all his glory.

“Missed me?” It was a confused murmur that escaped my tongue without my permission.

“Oh, yeah.” There he went teasing me again, and there went my gaze taking him in.

Tight faded tee stretched across his broad chest and his jeans fitting him oh so right. Face chiseled and his jaw wide, stubble coating every inch.

Dark hair a mess and falling over his right eye.

Trouble to the Nth degree.

He was the definition of word porn, and it was spelled h-o-t.

One of those careless smirks that had driven me out of my mind for half my life slid onto his ridiculously gorgeous face. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” It was a pained whisper, and crap, I didn’t even mean to speak it, the words breaking free without my permission.

Thing was, I really couldn’t imagine him walking through this door, plopping himself on my couch, and putting his feet up and making himself at home.

Or maybe I just had imagined it too many times, and it felt too surreal and impossible and perfect at the exact same time.

And there went my mind, racing into that fantasy world.

A haggard breath sucked into my lungs, and another round of redness was flushing my cheeks as embarrassment streaked through my being.

It was stupid he was the only person in the world I’d wanted to be different for. I’d tried—tried to catch his eye—but the one time I’d conjured the courage on our graduation day, he’d smashed it in a one-second blow that I was pretty sure he didn’t even know he’d cast.

Light laughter tumbled from his full lips, and he set his hand on the door and pushed it open a little farther.

“Considering you’re sleeping in my house, I would think that would be nice of you.” Only he clearly wasn’t asking.

“What are you doing back already? Shouldn’t you still be overseas?” It was a last-ditch effort.

He wasn’t supposed to be back for two months. The man had been off taking over the world, his start-up booming, extending to the office he’d opened in Japan. Maybe I could encourage him to go back and finish his business.

That or convince him to come back on Monday when Vanessa returned. I’d heard the Spartan down the street had really great rooms. No doubt, he’d have no trouble finding someone to share the big, comfy bed.

Hell, I’d even be willing to foot the bill.

By then, I’d have plenty of time to pack my things so I could run for safety. Because I couldn’t possibly stay in the same house as the boy I’d loved since third grade. The fact he would never look at me that way just hurt too bad.

“Deal was done. I had no reason to stay, and I was missing home. Found myself on the next flight. And here I am.”

He grinned a wicked grin before glancing around the apartment.

Sunlight poured in through the big windows, reflecting on the soft pink and white accents Vanessa and I had decorated the living room and kitchen in, everything cozy and bright.

He visibly cringed. “Looks like you and my sister did a number on the place.”

A frown pulled to my face. “I . . . well . . . we didn’t think you’d mind. We did sign a lease for two years.”

He couldn’t have possibly thought we would leave all his stuff out? The last thing I’d wanted was a constant reminder of him. A tease of what I couldn’t have and wanted more than I ever should.

Reaching down, he plucked his bag from the ground.

“Don’t mind. All the pink might have caught me off guard, but a real man can deal. And you’re right. You do have the lease for two years. Don’t worry, Kenna, I always keep my promises.”