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Falling for My Boyfriend's Dad

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“Um, hi, I’m Ally,” I started again. “Your new neighbor?”

And this time, he was all ears.

“Well, Ally, Ally, Ally,” he singsonged, rolling my name on his lips. Ugh, that didn’t sound good. “What major are you? Maybe we have some classes together.”

“Undecided,” I said quickly. “Or undeclared, is that how you say it?” And I blushed, cursing myself. God, I was already coming off like a country bumpkin within two hours of setting foot on campus. But I forced myself to keep going.

“I was wondering,” I began tentatively. “If I could borrow one of your movers? They’re renting mini-fridges downstairs and I need some help getting one up to my room.”

Jonah’s brow furrowed.

“A mini-fridge? Why would you want that? Aren’t those things like microwave-sized, practically useless? I’m bringing a junior size myself,” he boasted. And sure enough, a worker stumbled by, a huge white refrigerator strapped to his back, almost bent over double from the weight.

“Oh my god,” I gasped, running over to help. “You need a dolly for this, you can’t be carrying this by yourself, you’ll strain your back.

And the mover just nodded and huffed, so out of breath that he couldn’t answer. But his boss answered for him.

“Naw, no worries,” drawled Jonah. “Carlos is fine, he’ll be fine, I’ll give him a big tip after. But seriously, girlie, what do you need a mini-fridge for? They’re useless.”

I bit my lip. I didn’t want to tell him that I planned on making my own lunches and needed the mini-fridge to keep the ingredients cold. Sure, my scholarship to Hudson was generous, but even with the financial aid, we were only able to afford the minimum meal plan, which meant I could eat one meal a day at the dining hall. For my afternoon meal, I planned on putting together sandwiches, probably some cheese and bread and maybe cold cuts if my budget allowed. But that meant I needed a mini-fridge to store my stuff, even if it was only three cubic feet.

But that was too much information for day one, so I just gave the boy a sassy smile.

“Oh you know, for snacks and all,” I said breezily, pretending it was nothing. “I heard the food at the dining hall is terrible, you gotta have snacks on hand.”

And it was the right thing to say because Jonah nodded his curly brown head in agreement.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m bringing a refrigerator,” he grunted. “I would have brought a private chef, but there’s no place to cook and no place for Alfonso to stay, so fridge it is,” he said. “Come on, my guys are busy, I’ll help you bring it upstairs myself,” he said authoritatively, grabbing a blue hoodie.

And I nodded gratefully, trailing him downstairs to where the mini-refrigerators were stacked, fifty of them in a row.

“Thanks I really appreciate this,” I murmured as I signed my name on the payment slip. Inside, I was gulping. Fifty bucks per month for the rental? But I could save even more if I packed my lunch, so hopefully it would all net out. I swallowed heavily again and put on another smile, crouching slightly, arms extended. “Ready?” I asked, figuring we’d lift it together.

But Jonah wanted to prove his masculinity.

“I got it, don’t worry,” he bragged, and bent at the knees to pick up the refrigerator. It was true, the thing wasn’t bigger than an armful, but Jonah has a thin frame and pretty scrawny arms. The boy labored and strained, face growing red as I watched, the box not moving an inch.

“Oof!” he grunted. “Umph!”

I was so embarrassed for him that I ran over and lifted one side, both of us managing to hoist it awkwardly between this.

“You okay?” I said tentatively. Honestly, this thing was frickin’ heavy and maybe a dolly would be better.

“Of course!” he wheezed, although I could literally see his biceps trembling from the strain. “Won’t be a problem at all, we just need to walk smoothly, we’ll get it up three flight of stairs no prob.”

But I had my doubts because my own arms were beginning to tremble as well, and I thought I might drop the thing on my toe, making me a cripple on my first day. So I opened my mouth to say something, to avert disaster, when a man stepped in, taking the weight off our arms, lifting the fridge like it was nothing more than a ball of fluff.

“Got it,” the man rumbled. “You guys go first.”

I gaped at him. The stranger was devastatingly handsome, the most gorgeous male I’d ever seen in my eighteen years. Tall, broad with rippling biceps and a wide chest, he threw me a wink before turning again to Jonah.

“Like I said, son, you go ahead, I’ll follow with this pretty girl,” he rumbled smoothly.

And my mouth dropped open. This man was Jonah’s dad? What the hell? He was so fit, so gorgeous, so strong, nothing like my middle-aged parents. But it was true because Jonah scowled.



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