My lunch with Allie was supposed to calm me, but I felt more anxious than ever.

Chapter Seven

Cannon

“Found a place to live yet?” Peter asked.

Peter was a nurse anesthetist at the hospital I work at. He was a few years older than me, and in some ways, he treated me like a little brother. We met my first week at the hospital and just clicked. When he got married to his boyfriend of a decade last year, I was one of the groomsmen. And when I needed a place to crash after getting evicted from my apartment this week, he offered to let me crash at this place. But I knew that wasn’t a long-term solution. I didn’t want to impose on the newlyweds.

I nodded. “I’ve been staying with my sister’s friend Paige.” My sister’s very hot friend who I wanted to nail. I was pretty sure I’d been walking around all day half hard. Guess it was a good thing he hadn’t noticed.

“Gotcha.” He nodded. “How’s that going?”

“It’s good. It’s just taking some adjustment. I just moved in yesterday, and I’ve lived alone for a while, you know?” And now I had to deal with the soft feminine scent of her shampoo in the bathroom, and watching her parade around in yoga pants and talk in gibberish to her dog. She was maddeningly hot and she didn’t even know it.

“I still don’t understand,” Peter said, bending down to tie his bright purple tennis shoe. “How could they just kick you out of your place?”

He was right. My rent check was always on time, and I was quiet and neat. But the personal drama that tagged along with me was apparently more than my landlord wanted to handle. I shrugged. Having your place vandalized four times in six months and broken into twice was a bit excessive.

“Doesn’t matter,” I muttered. I actually liked being near Paige. Maybe too much.

“So, tell me about your new roomie. Do we like her?” Peter grinned.

“Fuck off,” I muttered, stalking away from Peter and his laughter echoing in the halls of the hospital.

• • •

True to her word, Paige returned home from work a few minutes after five.

“In here,” I called from the kitchen. Enchilada hovered around my feet, poised to snatch any fallen scraps.

She set down a laptop bag on the dining table, her gaze reluctantly dragging over to mine. “Hi.”

Wondering if she was remembering how I looked naked, I fought off a smile. “How was work?” I tossed a handful of sliced peppers into a wok, then added some onion.

“Fine,” she said, moving a couple of steps closer. “What’s all this?”

Enchilada wandered over, the desire to greet his master momentarily winning out over hunger, and Paige reached down to pat his fluffy head.

“I grabbed the ingredients for fajitas at the store today.”

“Oh.” She looked down at the chicken strips already browning in the skillet.

“Hope that’s okay. You named your dog Enchilada, so I assumed you like Mexican food.”

“Of course. It’s just . . . I didn’t expect you to cook for me.”

I shrugged. “I have my first couple of days off in what seems like forever. And besides, I had a craving. Would you mind stirring that chicken?”

She took a rubber spatula from the crock that held her utensils on the counter and turned over each piece of chicken, concentrating on her task carefully.

“I got tequila, and margarita mix too,” I said.

She eyed me carefully, her expression serious, but still somehow playful. “Tequila? Do you really think that’s a good idea for us?”

I laughed at her honesty. “Hey, we survived night one, didn’t we?”

“Yes, and it was a small miracle since you were naked.”

I smirked. “Sorry about that. It was an honest mistake.”

Paige moved on, busying herself filling the blender with ice, and I couldn’t help but notice the pink tinge to her cheeks.

While she mixed the drinks, I sautéed the vegetables and combined them with the chicken. The whir of the blender drowned out the silence around us, and then Paige poured two margaritas into festive glasses.

“Thank you for the flowers, by the way. And the treats for Enchilada. That was thoughtful of you.”

I nodded. “It was nothing. I’m just happy to have a place to stay.”

I wouldn’t tell Paige, but I’d been a little traumatized after staying with Peter and his husband. I was fine with whatever happened in their bedroom, but drew the line at being forced to overhear it. No one should hear their friend shouting for his husband to take him deeper.

“We never got to discuss rent. How much would you like me to pay?” I asked.

“I . . . I’m not sure.” Paige’s teeth sank into her lower lip.

Damn, that was distracting. “I’ll pay half of the rent and utilities. Just let me know how much it is.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “I suppose that’s fair. Your half will be seven hundred, and it’s due on the first of the month. I’ll let you know about the utilities.”

“Perfect.”

I turned off the burners and grabbed a couple of plates. “Do you need to change before dinner? I’ve got this.”

Shaking her head, she took a sip of her frosty drink. “That’s okay. Fridays are casual dress.”

I recalled that yesterday, she’d been wearing a skirt and a silk blouse. Today she looked just as tempting in a pair of dark jeans that hugged her curves, and a fitted, long-sleeved burgundy T-shirt. A long gold necklace hung around her neck, a sparkly pendant swaying as she moved.