Cheesy on the Eyes: Fake Dating Romcom (Slice Book 5) by Teagan Hunter

Author:Teagan Hunter [Hunter, Teagan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-03T23:00:00+00:00

Slice Ten

Sully

“One light roast coffee with a splash of almond milk and vanilla.”

Thea blinks up at me with tired eyes, taking the thermos from my outstretched hand. “I could kiss you right now.”

I fucking wish you would.

It took everything I had not to kiss her yesterday when we were sitting at my kitchen table. When her tongue darted out, I wanted to feel it against mine. I honestly cannot remember a time I’ve wanted to kiss someone so damn badly.

I berated myself all night for not making a move like some pussy.

“You ready?” I ask, glancing down at her attire.

She has on a pair of faded pink jogger-style sweatpants and an oversized lightweight sweater.

I’m almost a hundred percent sure she’s still wearing her pajamas and all she did was comb her fingers through her hair. I’ve watched my sisters put on makeup enough to know she’s sporting a light layer of mascara and some lip gloss, but that’s it.

“Stop checking me out, Sully. I know I look dead sexy this early in the morning, but I’m gonna need you to keep it in your pants.”

She’s being self-deprecating, but she has no idea just how hot I do find her right now.

She’s just so…her. Simple. Understated.

“Come on in,” she says, pulling the door open and popping the lid on the coffee I brought her. She takes a big drink before wiping at her mouth. “I just need to grab my bag.”

I step into her one-room apartment, glancing around as I make my way past the bathroom and the kitchen area. The building she lives in used to be a hotel, and they converted the rooms into studio apartments when I first moved to town. I know because I looked at living here before Winston finally convinced me to just stay with him.

How a person lives and decorates can say a lot about them, and in true Thea fashion, hers doesn’t tell me anything.

The walls are bare, not a single photo or painting to be found. There’s a petite stand flush with the wall under the window, and it has a little garden on it. Instead of a TV, there’s a bookshelf full of records, but I don’t immediately spot a player. A big couch in the ugliest shade of green I’ve ever seen takes up a spot opposite her neatly made queen-sized bed.

Other than that, there’s nothing.

Not even on the kitchen counters. Nothing sitting atop the two-person table.

“It’s not much,” she says, “but it beats going back to living with my parents. I couldn’t imagine having to work with my dad and live with him.”

“You’re a bit of a minimalist.”

“Says the guy who lives on a boat.”

“Fair.” My eyes survey the room again, looking for anything at all that could tell me more about her.

There, sitting on the vinyl shelf, is a teddy bear.

Nodding toward it, I ask, “Is it filled with rocks?”

“What, and ruin the surprise of you finding out later?”

I shake my head. “You got everything?”

“Almost.” She pads to the bathroom, coming back with a coffee mug at her lips, tossing back its contents like a shot.

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