Grabbing the memory card from the camera, I walked over to my desk.
“I’m not saying you’re not ho—cute. You are. But every word out of your mouth sounds just like my sister.” He shuddered.
I chuckled and slipped the memory card into the computer and the footage downloaded. That was one I hadn’t heard before. You’ve got a cute face. You’re more of a guy’s girl. Or the worst kind, I’m not into fat chicks. Thanks, dicks, I’m not into face-melting assholes.
“It’s cool, don’t worry about it.” I got the footage loaded, and it all looked fine. Editing would be interesting. “And everything looks good, thank you again. I’ll make it up to you. How about I provide bodyguard services for any unwanted solicitations from other tenants?”
He laughed. “My sister’s a ballbuster too. If everything looks good, I’ll head to the gym.”
I walked him to the door. “Ball busting is what I do best. You’ve gotta grab those balls”—the door opened—“and give them a firm, warm squeeze for all their worth.” My words trailed off.
Hunter’s eyebrows furrowed like two perfectly manicured caterpillars readying for a duel.
Ian laughed again. “Hey, Hunter.” He turned back to me. “Do you want me to see if there are any other guys at the gym who might be available, if I’m working? I don’t want you stuck in a bind.”
My gaze darted to Hunter. “That would be awesome. And we can work out a deal for money or gift cards or something as payment.”
“Perfect.” He sidestepped Hunter, who’d frozen just inside the doorway.
“Bye, Hunter. Bye, Sabrina.” The door closed gently behind Ian.
“Hey, Hunter.” I spun and walked into the kitchen.
“Why was Ian here out of uniform?” He followed me, his bag thumping on the counter in the galley kitchen.
I opened the cabinet, searching for my chocolate iced cupcake box. Going up on my tiptoes, I found it and used my fingertips to pull out a double cupcake gold mine. How the hell had it gotten so far in the back? “Because he’s not working.”
“Why’s he here when he’s not working?”
I closed the cabinet. “Why do you care?” The wrapper crinkled in my hands. Self-consciousness went out the door when it came to Hunter. At this point I didn’t give a fuck if he thought I was a fatty who ate cupcakes, because guess what? I was. Fine, not fat. Curvy, voluptuous, whatever. I wasn’t running a marathon anytime soon. My jeans gapped like a mofo at the waist to fit my butt and thighs, and I was fine with that.
He wasn’t thinking I’d gotten this way by eating kale and salad. Every so often I needed a chocolate icing sugar rush.
“What was he talking about, other guys?”
I took a bite from the cupcake, dodging the vanilla cream center. “It’s help for a project.”
“What kind of project?” His gaze drifted to the cupcake with a strange look on his face.
The cupcake didn’t taste nearly as good anymore. It was probably stuck all over my teeth. And I looked like a slob, but I couldn’t let him see me crack.
“Why are you grilling me?” I ate the creamy center and licked the cream from my thumb.
His jaw clenched. “I don’t want random people in my apartment.” The blue of his eyes flickered with an unnamed emotion, moving from the still-uneaten cupcake in my hand back to my eyes.
Embarrassment tickled its way up my neck. Okay, maybe I didn’t need to be stuffing my face in front of a guy who probably spent enough time in the gym for it to constitute a full-time job.
“They won’t be random people. They’re Ian’s friends, who’ll be supervised by me the whole time.” I marched toward him, trying to get to the hall and away from his exacting gaze.
“They’re people you don’t know and I don’t know.”
“Do you know anyone? Do you have friends?” Other than the one time his work friends had come over, he hadn’t brought anyone into the apartment. Maybe he didn’t want them to see him in his comfy clothes or to move a coaster out of place. I’d been prepared for him to bring back legions of women, but maybe they were scared off by his driving late-night music preferences.
His head cocked to the side. “Of course I have friends.”
“Acting the way you do, I can’t imagine they’re happy to have you around for long.” I needed more sugar for this conversation. I unwrapped the last cupcake and leaned to my left, brushing against Hunter to dump the wrapper in the trash.
He jolted and jerked back.
I rolled my eyes and straightened. “Easy, just throwing the wrapper away.” I took another bite. Screw ladylike, he was pissing me off. “What boundary am I crossing?”
“Personal space for one.”
“You came in here after me. All I was doing was getting a snack.”
“Without a plate or napkin.”
Glaring, I shoved the rest of the cupcake into my mouth. “There, are you happy now?” My muffled words didn’t seem to amuse him. Go figure. “For someone who works with clubs and music acts, you’re sure uptight.” I grabbed the lapels of his blazer, stunning us both. My knuckles brushed against his firm chest. The butterflies returned, and they’d brought a few hummingbird friends along. Recovering, I cleared my throat. No backing down. “Lighten up, Hunter. Can I go now?”
He didn’t move. His gaze flicked to my mouth. “No.”
Shit, were my lips covered in icing? I licked them and folded my arms across my chest and sighed. “Fine. Lay the lecture on me.”
“You can’t just barge in and take over.”
“Take over? I haven’t taken over anything. Other than food in the cabinets, what have I taken over?”
His nostrils flared.
“Do I have shit all over the apartment? Do I make a mess? Do I leave plates in the sink or make tons of noise?” I leveled my gaze at him. “No. Most people would call that a perfect roommate.”
“I can’t…I don’t like having people in my space.”
“Tough shit, dude. You’re an adult. Deal with it. And I won’t be here forever. Barbara is helping me out. That’s all. Me moving in here wasn’t some huge plot to systematically dismantle your life. Sorry you can’t jerk off in the living room with me around. I’m sure you can handle the disappointment for a few more months.” Without waiting for him to move, I barged straight into him, took the gap that opened to his left, and went straight to my room, locking the door.
He banged on the door. “We’re not finished talking.”
“Oh yes, we are.” I clicked on my playlist and turned up the volume. “Two can play at this game.” Right about now was when I could use a cupcake. Damn him for spoiling my sugar high. But I didn’t hate how peeved he’d been by me inviting Ian into the apartment.
Taking Hunter’s advice, I cranked up my music and gave him a taste of his own medicine, while editing the pictures. They weren’t bad. They were actually pretty good.
Maybe I’d take Ian up on the offer of gym friends to help me with different product shots. And why the third degree about having him over in the first place? Was Hunter against having the “help” around if they weren’t working? What a pretentious, sanctimonious asshole. If Hunter wanted to treat me like a bad roommate, I’d give him something to bitch about.