I nod and kneel down. “How old is she?” She lunges for me, but Luke holds her back.
“Calm, Pepper,” he says to the dog, and then he turns to me. “She’s four months.”
“And what kind is she?” I try to guess, but I’m at a loss. She’s some kind of mix with multi-colored black, tan, and white fur, and she has blue eyes. She’s possibly the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen...but she’s actually not so little.
“A Goberian,” he says, like I’m supposed to know what the hell that is.
“A Go-what now?”
“Golden Retriever mixed with a Siberian Husky. She could get up to ninety pounds, but she’s supposed to have all the best traits from both breeds.”
“How long have you had her?”
“Just picked her up a few weeks ago. Josh talked me into getting her.” He laughs and shakes his head, like he’s blaming my brother but actually isn’t so mad about it. “And, incidentally, she’s the reason I needed to jet out so quickly after our night together. My dog monitor app showed me she got out of her cage and this room was a damn disaster.”
I blush as he brings up that night, and I wonder if I’ll always feel a little embarrassed about it. It was a night that should’ve only left one impression, but neither of us had any idea that we’d meet again. Or that we’d end up as roommates less than seventy-two short hours after we met.
God, what a whirlwind three days it has been.
He shows me the sports courts and the outdoor living space and he takes me through the rest of the house. He leads me up the stairs, past some closed doors, and to the last room on the left. “This will be your room,” he says.
He opens the door to a pristine and lavish guest room that overlooks the pool and the mountains. It has a huge bed with white sheets, a walk-in closet, and its own bathroom.
“Will this work?” he asks, and he almost seems a little...shy. Maybe even nervous. Like I’m judging his house.
“Will it work?” I repeat. I skip around the giant room and use one of the poles holding up the canopy over the bed to spin around—which probably makes me look like I’m a stripper rather than the whimsical look I’m going for. “Uh, hell yeah it’ll work. How long did you say I could stay?”
He laughs, but before he can answer that, I chime back in.
“I’m kidding. I’m planning to start looking for a job tomorrow, and as soon as I get that squared away, then I’m hoping to find a place and get out of your hair ASAP.”
“That’s not necessary,” he says softly, and his eyes burn from across the room by the door where he stands. “Take your time. It’s a big house and most days it feels pretty empty.”
Hence the reason for a dog, I’m guessing. Josh is definitely the meddling type who would make sure his friend didn’t feel all alone in the gargantuan mansion across the street.
“You want something to eat?” he asks.
I nod, and then I follow him through the long hallway, down the marble and iron staircase, across the foyer, and finally to the kitchen. I note that he only showed me my bedroom. He didn’t show me his or any of the others that had closed doors.
“Hey Pepper girl,” he says to the dog, who’s lying in the sun by the huge breakfast nook that’s more like a dining room. “Let’s see what Debbie left for us.”
“Why’d you name her Pepper?” I ask.
“It’s the leading lady in my favorite movie,” he says.
My brows dip down. I can’t think of any movies with Peppers in them.
“Iron Man,” he clarifies. He rummages through the fridge and I pull out a stool on the other side of the counter from him and plop down. “We have bacon turkey ranch wraps or chicken salad sandwiches.”
“Either. Can I help?”
He shakes his head and pulls out a container with the wraps in it. He grabs some plates and puts one in front of me and one in front of the spot next to me. “Drink?”
“Water is fine.”
He grabs water, too, and then he sits next to me.
“So, Ellie, what kind of job are you looking for?” he asks.
“Public relations. Or, that was my field, anyway.”
“What’s the end-goal there?” He sips some water, and my eyes move to his lips as his tongue darts out to catch a drop.
An ache presses between my thighs.
I blow out a breath. “I mean, ultimately I would have loved to work my way up to higher profile celebrity clients.”
“Well your roommate is a pro football player,” he casually points out.
I roll my eyes. I suppose he wants free PR in exchange for offering me a room? I guess it’s something I could offer, but certainly the team has a PR staff...right? “I mean real celebrities.”
“Ouch,” he says, patting his chest over his heart.
“You know what I mean,” I say.
“Not really,” he teases with an easy laugh. “Athletes aren’t celebrities?”
My brother is an athlete. Is he a celebrity? I’ve never considered him one, but I guess the truth is that he is one. “I just mean like actors, musicians, that sort of thing. I don’t know enough about sports to represent an athlete, though if the price was right, I’d learn.”
“So money is what it’ll take for you to learn football?” He raises a brow as he takes a bite of his wrap.
I lift a shoulder. “We all have our motivations, right?” Though when it comes to Luke Dalton, money is hardly the motivator. A quick flash of a smile would be enough for me to do just about anything.
And the more I think about it, the more interested I’m becoming in seeing him run around the field in those tight pants on Sunday afternoons.
Maybe I am suddenly interested in football.
“Speaking of which, I looked you up on social media and couldn’t find you. Don’t you have a PR manager or publicist?” I ask. I realize I just gave myself away, and that’s my filter malfunctioning again, but I’ve embarrassed myself around this guy so much already that I feel like I can’t really be any more mortified than I already have been.
He glances over at me with arched brows. “You looked me up?”
“Well, yeah. I had to know what I was getting into when I found out you were going to be my roommate.” It’s a lie. I totally looked him up because I couldn’t stop thinking about him and I wanted to see his face again in a picture other than the one I memorized of us from the night of our hookup. “So why couldn’t I find you?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I’m private.”
“You can still be private and have social media.”
He takes another bite of his wrap and lifts a shoulder. “I don’t need it. I’ve gotten by fine for this long without it.”
“So you’re private, but you’re willing to have a one-night stand with a random chick from a nightclub and you’re willing to let your best friend’s little sister live with you without ever having met her?”
He chuckles. “Those events are unrelated.”
“Except they’re the same person.”
“Well, yeah, but...” he trails off. “I didn’t know who you were that night, just like you didn’t know who I was. It wasn’t supposed to go past that one night, and I could tell you had no idea who I was, so that’s why you ended up being the perfect candidate. Plus that sweet ass of yours.”