Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Considering she lives directly next door, the chances of being embarrassed by my dick roommates are highly probable.
Don’t need that kind of drama, and therefore, I would never say anything. I do just fine embarrassing myself on my own without anyone’s help.
Besides, just because I think someone is cute doesn’t mean I’m interested. Lots of things are cute—puppies, kittens, babies. That doesn’t mean I have to think about them all the time.
So I put it out of my mind the way I do with everything else and moved on.
“Can you please help me, I don’t know what to do…”
Can I help her? Sure.
Do I want to?
No.
Am I gonna?
Yeah. Probably.
Why? Don’t ask, I have no idea. I’m feeling generous, I guess, and there is no one else home who she can con into going over there to look at her place. It’s just me. And even if I wasn’t the only one home, I’m curious enough to help her anyway.
“Have you tried calling your landlord?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Obviously, we’ve called our landlord. He’s useless.”
They always are.
I’m quiet for a few seconds so I can think. Squinting down at her, I scratch at the back of my skull. “You said it’s in your bedroom?
Duh, you fucking idiot. She’s mentioned that it’s in her bedroom like, four times.
Sorry, but Lizzy, the neighbor girl, is standing on my front porch in a bathrobe, and I can see the outline of her tits and a decent shot of skin, and the fact that she’s obviously not wearing a bra is throwing me off.
I can barely concentrate.
The wind kicks up, and I catch a whiff of her that I didn’t know I wanted or needed.
Goddamn, she smells good.
“Yes.” I can see her patience wearing thin. “He’s probably losing his tiny little mind and wrecking all my shit because he can’t get outside.”
“Yeah, probably,” I muse, then regret my choice of words when I see her face fall. “Although I’m not sure how squirrels operate inside a house?” More like it’ll be nesting. “We should try to get your bedroom window open.” I scratch my chin. “You have a bedroom window, right?”
Lizzy rolls her eyes. “Of course, I have a bedroom window.”
I lift my shoulders in a shrug. “Hey, I was just askin’ because not everyone does. You know how these landlords operate, cramming as many people into one house as possible to make the most money.”
Shady fuckers.
My sophomore year, I lived in a house with two bedrooms, and we had five people living in it. We all paid rent, and the landlord knew we were above max capacity, but he let us lie on our application, knowing full well we were breaking the building code.
Lizzy nods. “Good point.”
She shivers, pulling the robe tighter, not dressed for the cooling afternoon temperatures. It’s not hot, and it’s not cold, but it’s going to be dark soon, and along with that comes a dip in the weather.
I set my takeout container on the ground by the door, wiping my hands on the legs of my jogging pants.
“I guess I could assess the situation.” So magnanimous of me, wouldn’t you say, considering I’m putting myself in harm's way?
The least I can do is crack open one of her windows to see if we can prompt that furry little mongrel to evacuate the premises on his own accord if he hasn’t already.
“Aren’t you going to bring a hockey stick or something?” Lizzy shivers again, but all I can focus on now is the fact that she knows I play hockey.
My mouth gapes. She wants me to bring one of my precious hockey sticks to combat an animal? Is she out of her damn mind?
They’re expensive
It takes me forever to wrap it to my liking and get it just so. I’m not about to undo all that work by fighting off whatever lurks in her bedroom.
Hockey sticks are not weapons. They’re gear.
“Uh, no?” I clutch my chest, affronted. “What do you want me to do with it? Take a swing at the squirrel with one of my precious sticks? My stick is my moneymaker.” Not to mention how cruel it would be trying to bonk some little dude on the noggin.
I get what she’s saying, even if I’m not going to do it.
She wants that fucker gone, and it’s not like she’s going to grab him with her bare hands. And most people don’t have nets lying around or whatever.
I’m no goalie, so I don’t have goalie gloves, either.
“I wasn’t sure how you wanted to catch him,” she tells me.
Keyword: you.
Keyword: catch him.
“Catch him with what? Like with my hands? Fuck no.”
She’s cute but delusional if she thinks I’m going to march inside that house and try to lure or go at him with any athletic equipment.
Or fight the mangy little thing.