Falling Over (Falling In Series Book 3) by Andrea Hopkins

Author:Andrea Hopkins [Hopkins, Andrea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-06-01T16:00:00+00:00

Twenty-one

Song to listen to:

“I Won’t Give Up” by Jason Mraz

Ben

I’m so fucked. And up way too damn early for a Sunday morning. I think I maybe managed a solid two and a half hours of sleep last night. And not for lack of trying, either. My mind just wouldn’t quit. Neither would my dick, which by the way, couldn’t stop painfully reminding me that the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen is sleeping right next door, without any chance of parental or brotherly interference on the horizon.

Yeah, let’s just say my dick was not happy I told him to just shut the fuck up and get friendly with my right hand and the bottle of baby oil in my bedside table.

Twice.

Why did I think moving in with Cady would be a good idea?

Oh, yeah that’s right, because I’m a fucking masochistic moron hell-bent on living with at least a semi hard-on and an excruciating set of blue balls for the next three months.

Even when she’s throwing insults or brutal honesty my way, I’m hot for her. It’s a bit disconcerting but inevitable. Cady is…fuck, Cady is so much. Too much, at times. But she’s also everything to me.

She surprised me last night. I had expected more of a fight, especially after her little outburst once she realized our living situation. But I have a sinking suspicion or intuition, you might say, that last night was a fluke. Or a lapse in judgment or resolve. I did lay it on thick, especially after the epic pasta fail. I’ve known Cady practically my whole life, longer than I haven’t known her, and with that comes knowledge. Cady Adams knowledge. I know her triggers, just the right buttons to push and when to push them. I know it sounds a bit like manipulation, but I swear that’s not it. Everything I said to her was the truth, the honest to goddess truth, I just know when and how to sprinkle that truth so that is beneficial to the task at hand. I have goals to meet. And in case you’re not following what’s going on here, I want her back. And before you say anything, yes, we technically weren’t ever together, but we all know that’s bullshit. She was mine three seconds before she threw that mud pie in my face twelve years ago.

Yes, you read it right. Three seconds before.

One second to see her flaming red Chucks tied up with sparkly black shoelaces splattered with mud.

One second to meet her blue eyes, sparkling with mischief and curiosity. Kindness.

One second to feel her smile warm the entire length of my seven-year old body, giving me the sudden urge to do something I hadn’t done in the six months prior—smile.

So yeah, okay, I may have white-lied a little bit when I said I’d be willing to settle with her friendship, ’cause nah, that’s not good enough. It would never be good enough. But I knew if I told her the truth, the whole truth, that

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