Dirty Desire Read Online Free Page A

to have problems.
    “I’m a waitress and my roommate owns companies, and is opening more. How old are you anyway?”
    Bingo.
    “Does that matter?”
    “I guess not.” The sarcastic tone in her voice angers me. She needs to lose that attitude, and quickly, or else she’s going to meet a part of me she doesn’t want to meet.
    “No, really…why would it matter?” I push.
    “It doesn’t,” she says, shrugging her shoulders and smiling at me. “Not at all.”
    “If you’re asking because you’re curious that’s one thing. If you’re asking because you’re about to put your life against my accomplishments I’m not going to tell you.” I fucking hate pity parties. I don’t know what she’s done in her life, but I do know she’s not a failure and that’s exactly what she’s making herself out to be.
    “I wasn’t comparing us.” She mumbles.
    “Great.” I sit up and smile a cocky smile at her. “Then I’m thirty.”
    She nods silently for a while, watching me closely. Her eyes a bright shade of blue, her hair on top of her head in one of those messy buns girls her age love so well. She didn’t try hard tonight to impress me, but dammit she is.
    “So, other than working at a bar, what else do you do, Harper?”
    “Sleep,” she deadpans, making me smile.
    “That’s it?”
    “No,” she sighs. “I like to paint. Art has always been a huge release for me.”
    Interesting.
    “Are you an artist, then?”
    “It’s a hobby. Of sorts. My dad always said I was good at it, but I never really took it anywhere.” She shrugs and stirs her water with her straw.
    “Why not? Why not turn your hobby into something you love?” I don’t know why I’m pushing her like this but the more we talk the more she opens up to me.
    “I’m not that good,” she says, grinning at me. “It’s like a three year old got a hold of a paint brush.”
    “Some of the most famous artists look like a two year old spit up on the canvas. You’ve got something on them.”
    “Oh yeah?” She grins. “What’s that?”
    “An entire year.”
    She barks out a laugh and I smile the most genuine smile I’ve had in a long time. She’s easy to be around, that’s for certain.
    “So why this neighborhood? You go to college at the University?” I know the majority of these answers, but if I come across as uncaring I’m never going to get on her good side.
    “Uh…no. I’m taking a little bit off.” She tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear and looks at the waitress as she brings her the burger and fries she ordered. “Thank you,” she says, smiling at the girl. “God, I’m so hungry.”
    She doesn’t waste any time digging into her food. Thank god. I hate girls that are picky eaters when guys are around. What’s the good in that, we all know they eat!
    By the time her dinner is over I’ve successfully gotten her to smile a genuine smile at me about ten times and had plenty of laughter thrown in there. I think she’s getting used to me, because when we leave the restaurant and she sees a rowdy group of kids nearby, her arm immediately links in mine. I grin but don’t acknowledge it, knowing the minute I do she’s going to back away.
    We stop at a corner, and waiting for traffic I take a quick glance down at her. She must have been thinking the same thing as I and the minute our eyes connect we get the identical goofy smile on our faces.
    Oh she’s going to be easier than I thought.
    I take her hand and we walk in silence back to the apartment. Past the nightclubs, bars, and locals using the sidewalk as a gathering place. The entire time she doesn’t take her hand from mine.
    When we make it back to the apartment she pulls away for the key and lets us inside. I watch her set her purse on the counter, a million things probably running through her mind, and pause before moving.
    “I’m heading to bed,” I say, giving her a slight smile and nod as I pass by her and on to my room.
    “Oh.… Ok.”
    I stop,