Crashing East (The Save Me Series Book 4) by Aly Stiles

Author:Aly Stiles [Stiles, Aly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-01-21T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

HADLEY

I pound on Julian’s door, amazed at what a difference a day makes. Yesterday, I stood in this same spot wanting to jump him. Today… well, I still want to jump him but in an entirely different way. This jumping would involve a blunt object and plenty of swear words I don’t even use.

I slept with him. We had legit, mind-blowing sex and hours later he acted like not only did nothing happen, but we’re back to that same neighbor-hate dynamic we started with. His attitude only got worse as the day dragged on. I wasn’t the only one glad to see him go when he ran out of the studio like every second in our presence was a gross inconvenience.

In a perfect world, I’d never have to speak to him outside of our professional relationship again, but unfortunately, he also has an amazing niece that I’m starting to like quite a bit. And when said niece sends you a frantic SOS about girl problems, you drop everything and hike up those stairs to the lion’s den.

Julian pulls open the door, looking as irritating and hot as ever in that stupid undershirt and ripped jeans. They’re not even the trendy version that are just a little too perfectly shredded. These rips look authentic, like he’s been wearing this one pair for years and doesn’t give a crap that they make him look edible.

Focus, Hadley. He’s an asshole, remember? A hot asshole, but still an asshole.

And right now his mouth is hanging open in flustered silence as he stares at me. “Hadley…” he says as if clarifying my presence for himself.

“I’m not here for you,” I clip out, pushing past him with my tote bag. “I’m here for Naomi. She in her room?”

He straightens in shock, his stupid pretty eyes blinking in confusion. “Naomi? Yeah, but I just talked to her an hour ago.”

“Well, a lot can change in an hour,” I say. And twelve hours, apparently.

“What? Is she okay?”

“No, she’s not okay,” I snap.

“Alright, geez,” he says, lifting his hands and stepping back. “She didn’t say anything to me.”

“Of course she didn’t. It’s women’s problems.” I hold up the bag with an impatient look.

He pales, his shoulders shrinking. “Women’s problems?” He says the words like it’s some mystical prophecy. “Oh shit. Should I… um… call someone?”

I turn back and stare at him. Is he for real? His big brown eyes are absolutely serious, and I have to suppress a snort. “Who exactly would you call?” Now, I have to know.

“Um…” He shakes his head, so far out of his depth I almost have mercy on him. Almost. “The um…”

“Actually, that’s a great idea. You call the Women’s Reproductive Emergency Hotline, while I check on her. Sound good?”

He cringes but pulls out his phone. Oh my gosh, he’s actually looking it up. This time I can’t hold in my laugh as I grab his hand to stop him.

“It’s fine, Julian. Have a drink and relax. I got this.”

With that I march down the hall to Naomi’s room.

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