Just One Night: Part 5 Read Online Free Page A

hands up and a mighty roar to bring it all home. I am well and truly frightening. The only thing missing is my hagfish breath. I regret having brushed my teeth so soon, however it doesn’t matter. My war cry does the trick.
    She screams and shuts the door behind her, footsteps fading off in the distance as I collapse in healing laughter. I haven’t been this energized since … the last time I saw this beautiful girl. The realization is sobering enough even without the freezing shower. How have I managed my life without her? I’m not sure of that, but I am quite sure of the fact that I don’t want to know what a future without her in it would be like.
    Once I know she’s gone and not returning for more, I comb my hair and then stand ramrod straight, flexing my biceps in the mirror a few times. Yes, sir … Mr. William Stratford is now back on the scene, ladies and gentlemen. And Stratford Investments? You can eat my dust because I will soon be leaving you behind.

CHAPTER THREE
    Jennifer

    UNLOCKING THE DOOR TO MY apartment, I cringe as the beat from the music in my neighbor’s place pounds through the walls. William is behind me with four suitcases full of his clothing. I’m pretty sure he has more outfits than I do. One bag alone is holding his shoes.
    “I must thank you again for hosting me,” he says, pulling two suitcases over the entrance and into the foyer. He says nothing about the music nor does he give any indication that he notices it. “I will do my best not to be a bother.” He takes the second set of bags and pulls them in before shutting the door behind us.
    “You could never be a bother, William, don’t be silly.” I’m sweating just a little over the idea of having him living here with me. Twenty-four/seven is an awful lot of time to spend with someone who until recently I didn’t even know existed. I had sworn after Hank that I’d never live with another man until I married him, and here I am just a few months later doing the exact opposite with a practical stranger. So much for keeping promises to myself.
    But this is different, or so I keep telling myself. This isn’t happening because we’re in love and wanting to do a marital dry run. This is business. Just business.
    “Shall I put these in here?” he asks, aiming his first suitcase towards the living room.
    I sigh in defeat. Why pretend we’re not going to mess around? It’s just not realistic, especially since I’ve been thinking about his hands on me since the moment I saw him in the shower, and he hasn’t taken his eyes off my breasts since I walked into his apartment.
    “No, put them in the bedroom.”
    He lifts an eyebrow. “My footwear sharing closet space with the deformed birds?” He glances down at his luggage. “I’m not sure my shoes will agree to that arrangement.”
    I smile. “Tell them to suck it up. It’s only temporary anyway.”
    “Right. Exactly. I’ll have a word.” He leaves me there in the foyer with his remaining bags.
    I should probably help him settle in, but I have too many other things on my mind that won’t let me rest until they’re done. First thing’s first … get a business license.
    I’m finishing up the online registration when William gets back from the bedroom. He starts talking and I listen with half an ear.
    “I’ve had what I hope was a very convincing tête-à-tête with my shoes and your twitter bird slippers. I believe they have come to a suitable arrangement.”
    “That’s nice,” I say, reading the fine print on the form.
    “They have agreed to remain on their respective sides of the closet and have assured me they will keep their opinions to themselves.”
    “Good,” I say, although not exactly sure what I’m saying good to. Did he say our shoes were talking to him? That’s a little weird. But I can’t worry about it now because my brain is stuck on this online business license application and the stupid requirements that we need to fulfill before it’s