Spencer Cohen Series, Book Two (The Spencer Cohen Series 2) Read Online Free Page B

real drinker. Maybe a few beers now and then, but not normally hard liquor.” He laughed a bit. “I think they were worried I’d think less of you. They were all so busy telling me what a good guy you are.”
    I shook my head. “I didn’t ask them to do that.”
    “Yes, I know. They were worried about you.”
    I sighed. “I owe them a pretty big thank you. Dinner or something.”
    “They also told me you’d been different with me from day one,” he said, just all casual-like. There was a hint of humour in his eyes.
    “They did, huh?”
    “Yep. Said you were all ridiculous smiles whenever you mentioned my name.”
    “Right, then. Well, I’m taking back the offer to buy them dinner.”
    He laughed. “So it’s true?”
    “My answer depends on whether you agree to a nap this afternoon.”
    He laughed. “I take it that’s a yes.”
    I could feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I told you already you were different. But I object to the term ridiculous smiles .”
    He was still smirking when he parked his car near his apartment. I grabbed my bag of laundry from the backseat and followed him inside. “I don’t know, Spencer,” he said, putting his keys and wallet on the hallstand. His voice was quieter, more serious. “I happened to like hearing that you thought I was special from day one. When they told me, Lola laughed and said my smile matched your ridiculous one. So we’re probably even.”
    I stood there, holding my bag of laundry, not sure what to do with it. I was suddenly nervous. Here we were, alone at his place. I mean, we’d been alone all morning, but this was somehow different. It was like we were one breath away from going at it like rabbits, or he was about to tell me he’d changed his mind. “Well, that’s good then. We can be ridiculous together.”
    He studied me for a long moment before walking slowly over to stand in front of me. He put his hand on my laundry bag, where I was clutching it tightly. His fingers touched mine, and warmth shot up my arm causing the butterflies in my stomach to take flight, and he stared into my eyes. I licked my lips, wanting to kiss him, and he leaned in just a fraction, but stopped short of contact. “I’ll take that for you,” he said gruffly and pulled the bag out of my hand. He took a step back and my breath left me in a rush.
    “Fuck,” I mumbled, not really meaning to say the word out loud. “Are you trying to kill me?”
    He grinned. “Just checking it wasn’t some kind of fluke before.”
    “A fluke? What fluke? That I find you insanely hot or that you make my stupid brain malfunction?”
    He laughed quietly. “Maybe both.”
    “Well, you could have just asked me,” I said, adjusting my now aching—thanks to him—dick.
    He watched my hand on my crotch, and his nostrils flared, a rush of pink crept down his neck. His voice cracked when he said, “We better start this laundry.”
    He turned and walked down the hall past the bathroom, to what I assumed was the laundry, so I followed. He upended the bag, the contents spilling onto the tiled floor.
    “Here, I can do that,” I told him. “I don’t expect you or anyone else to do my washing.” I picked up a shirt and moved it to one side and shoved the sheets to the other side. And as I sorted the dark and light coloured clothes, I could feel him watching me. I looked up and smiled. “What?”
    “You sort laundry,” he said quietly.
    “Of course I do. By colour and then fabric.”
    A slow smile spread across his face, and he bit his lip.
    “Do you have a laundry kink I don’t know about?” I asked.
    He laughed. “Uh no. It’s just that I always sort that way too, colour then by types of fabric. Eli never did, and it used to drive me insane.” He shrugged. “I like that you do.”
    “Um, if you like it, then I’m pretty sure it falls in the kink category.”
    He laughed, a low warm sound, before collecting the sheets off the floor and throwing them in the washing