Big Rock by Blakely Lauren

Author:Blakely, Lauren [Blakely, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Humour, Adult
ISBN: 9780692572030
Publisher: EverAfter Platinum
Published: 2016-01-05T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

When I open the door, I hand her a virgin margarita.

She thanks me and takes a sip as she walks inside my apartment. She’s wearing jeans, black flats, and a dressy gray tank top with some kind of lacy neckline.

Dammit. She’s camouflaged. I have no clue what her intentions are based on her outfit. Admittedly, I might be oversimplifying matters, but if she were wearing a short black dress and fuck-me pumps, I’d be a lot less in the dark. Then again, I’m in jeans and a black T-shirt, so I’m not sure my clothes spell Game for Anything to her, but I hope they do.

She dangles a bag of gourmet gummy bears. “Farm fresh,” she says.

“Locally grown, too, I hope?”

“Of course. Within a fifty-mile radius from farm to table.”

“Excellent. They better be small-batch made, too,” I say, mocking the food purists of the world, glad I can at least still banter with her.

She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “They’re from Brooklyn. Of course they’re small batch. Though I still don’t understand why if we can send a man to the moon, they can’t remove the green bears from the bag.”

“It is one of life’s great mysteries.” I shut the door and gesture to the living room. She walks ahead of me, and I can’t help myself. I stare at her ass as she crosses the hardwood floor to my couch. She gave me the license to ogle this afternoon, as far as I’m concerned.

“Along with the existence of gigantic asparagus,” she quips.

“I’ll never understand the need for oversize vegetables. But did you really go to Brooklyn to get gummy bears?” I ask as she settles into my beige couch. The sliding glass doors that lead to my terrace are open, and the warm June night filters in.

She shakes her head as she kicks off her shoes, and tucks her feet under her. “The store in Brooklyn that makes them opened another shop in Murray Hill. But they are locally-sourced, and not made with gelatin.”

“Which is a basic requirement in a gummy bear.” I join her on the couch, repeating what she’s said over the years—she won’t touch candies made with gelatin since gelatin comes from beef, and if she wanted beef in her candy she’d eat beef candy, and she’s not doing that. Because that’s just disgusting.

Which is why beef candy is not a thing.

I point to my laptop. “What’s it going to be? Netflix? Hulu? Castle? Will Ferrell’s latest? Rom-com? Spy flick? Sports Center to catch up on your baseball stats?”

She rips open the bag of candy, and pops a yellow bear into her mouth. It slides past her lips. Lucky bear. “How about Castle? Let’s watch that one with the Irish mobster.”

I know exactly which one she means, since we’ve watched nearly every episode together. I find it quickly, sending a silent thanks to, well, myself that I remembered to close out my porn last night. Fido wanders into the living room, arches an eyebrow, and meows.

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