My Kind of Perfect: a Roommates-to-Lovers, Single Dad Romance (Finding Love Book 3)

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My Kind of Perfect: a Roommates-to-Lovers, Single Dad Romance (Finding Love Book 3) Page 4

by Nikki Ash


  “What’s up?” I say, jutting my chin toward him.

  “Date night.” He grins.

  After making introductions between Georgia, Thomas, and his wife, Hilary, we stick our dogs on a couple of skewers and hold them over the fire.

  “You okay?” I ask Georgia quietly.

  “Yeah.” She glances over at me and smiles. “This is nice.”

  We watch our dogs cook, turning them until they’re wrinkly and dark brown, then we remove them and drop them into our buns.

  “Mmm,” she moans, taking a bite of her hot dog. “How is it that it tastes better cooked like this?”

  I laugh and take my own bite, ignoring the way her moaning hits me straight in the dick. It’s damn good. Crispy and cooked through.

  “Looks like your first cooking mission was a success,” I joke.

  Georgia laughs. “I saved a couple of recipes online that I want to try.”

  “Once you know they’re good, remember I’m your taste tester.”

  She cracks up. “You’re supposed to try them to tell me if they’re good.”

  I just shrug, taking another bite.

  “Want some potato salad?” she asks, holding a forkful up.

  “Sure.” I’m about to set my hot dog down, when Georgia leans over and feeds me the bite, before taking her own. I watch as she enjoys the food, moaning and smiling with every bite. Georgia was right, she loves food.

  “I’m going to make a s’more,” she says, pushing a marshmallow onto the skewer and then hanging it over the fire. I watch her while she watches the marshmallow. I don’t know what the hell is going on with me, but I can’t take my eyes off her. The way she scrunches her nose up in concentration. How every once in a while, she drags her tongue across the seam of her plump lips, wetting them. I’ve been with several women in the last year, in more intimate positions, but none of them entranced me the way Georgia does without even trying.

  “Shit,” she hisses. “I burned it.”

  Reluctantly, I tear my gaze from her to see what she’s talking about and find a charcoal black marshmallow engulfed in flames at the end of her skewer. “Here, let me help you,” I say, taking the skewer from her and flicking the burned marshmallow off, then adding a new one.

  “I wanted to do it.” She huffs, her mouth forming a cute as fuck pout.

  “C’mere.” I nod toward my chair. She stands, unsure where I want her, and I grab her around the waist, pulling her into my lap. “Now, the key to making the perfect marshmallow is to cook it evenly,” I explain.

  Placing the skewer in her hand, I wrap mine around hers. She leans back slightly to get comfortable, and with her face near mine, I can smell her sweet scent. I don’t know what it is, but it’s soft and feminine. Without thinking about what I’m doing, I run my nose along her neck.

  Georgia stiffens, and I immediately stop. “Sorry,” I murmur. “You smell good.”

  “It’s Moonlit Path.”

  “Moonlit Path has a scent?” Weird.

  She giggles. “Yes, it’s what you’re smelling.”

  “Well, okay then.” I extend her skewer. “To make it perfect, you have to constantly turn the marshmallow in a three hundred and sixty degree circle. If you stop too long, the fire will attack it.”

  “And then burn it,” she adds, like the fire has personally offended her by burning her marshmallow.

  Slowly, we turn the skewer around and around until the entire marshmallow is a perfect golden brown. “All right, grab the graham cracker and chocolate,” I tell her, pulling the skewer back.

  She bends over to grab the plate and pushes against my dick. I let out a grunt and she pops up. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”

  No, you just woke up my cock and now it wants some attention… “I’m okay,” I croak out.

  “Here you go.” She holds up the plate, and I lay the marshmallow on the chocolate.

  “Close it.” She places the graham cracker on top, holding it down, so I can pull the skewer out. “All right, try it.” I nod toward the snack. She lifts it up and takes a big bite, then sets it back down. Because of the hot marshmallow, melted chocolate drips out and coats her lips. It takes every ounce of restraint I have not to swipe my tongue across her chocolate-covered lips and taste her.

  “Oh my God,” she moans. “So good!” Her tongue darts out and licks up the chocolate, cleaning the mess from her mouth, and the entire time I wish I were doing it for her.

  “Here, try it.” She lifts it back up and shoves it toward my mouth. I open wide and take a bite. When she drops it onto the plate, her gaze zeroes in on my lips, and based on the way her eyes are now hooded, I would bet she’s thinking the same thing I was just thinking a second ago—she wants to taste me.

  Not giving a shit about anything besides tasting her, I lean in to do just that, but before our mouths touch, my name is called out, breaking the moment. Georgia scrambles off my lap and I stand.

  “Hey, I thought it was you,” Fiona says, walking over. She’s dressed in a skimpy bikini and is holding a martini glass in her hand. She must’ve been walking down the beach from one of the bars. She looks the same as she did a year ago. Same fake face, hair, and tits spilling out of her top. Her skin is so tan, it’s almost leathery looking.

  “It’s me,” I say, plastering on a fake smile.

  “How are you?” she asks, her enhanced lips forming a fake pout. Fuck, everything about her is so damn fake.

  “I’m good. At a buddy of mine’s bonfire.”

  “That’s fun. I was so sad for you when Victoria divorced you. I always thought you were a good guy, but you know Victoria… So materialistic.”

  She rolls her eyes, and I stifle a humorless laugh at the irony of her words. She gained most of her money from marrying a guy three times her age and then getting everything of his when he died.

  “I was worried about you, but I’m glad you’re doing good… Oh,” she says, looking around me at Georgia. “Who’s this?”

  I glance back and Georgia is nervously shuffling her feet, unsure whether to step forward or run away. “A friend,” I tell her, giving her nothing more.

  “Girlfriend?” Fiona asks, false sweetness dripping from her words.

  “No,” I tell her truthfully.

  “That’s too bad. With Victoria getting married and having a baby, I was hoping you would’ve moved on as well.”

  Her words hit me straight in the gut. Not because I’m jealous, but because it conjures up old memories of me begging Victoria to have a baby with me. I wanted nothing more than to start a family. When we first got married, she wanted that too. But then she let the modeling world get inside her head and changed her mind, telling me she didn’t want a child to ruin her perfect body or life. It’s crazy how much someone can change. Who we were in our teens and early twenties is nothing like who we were when we parted ways.

  “Such a cute little thing,” she continues.

  “So, she’s good, then… Clean?” I shouldn’t care, but it’s hard not to. In some capacity, Victoria was a part of my life for damn near twenty years.

  “Is anybody really clean in LA?” Fiona cackles. In other words, she’s still a druggie. My heart goes out for that baby. I’m just glad it’s not me who has to deal with that shit. Her cheating on me turned out to be a blessing in disguise. It saved me from years of heartache.

  Which is exactly why I’m single.

  I glance at Georgia, who looks uncomfortable as fuck, and sigh, thankful I didn’t kiss her. It would’ve crossed us over a line I’m not prepared to step over. Sure, she’s nothing like Victoria, but she’s young and people change. No matter how sweet she is, I just can’t risk my heart again. Not now… maybe not ever.

  “We better get going,” I tell Fiona.

  “Okay, good seeing you.” She waves, then traipses over to her friends, who were standing back, drinking and talking, while waiting for her.

  “I’m not feeling well,” I mutter to Georgia as we walk back.

>   She doesn’t say anything and I feel like an ass for my change in mood. But it’s for the best. Nothing can happen between us. We’re friends, and that’s the way it needs to stay.

  Georgia

  It was like watching someone flip a switch. One minute I was in Chase’s lap, inches away from being kissed by him, and the next, he’s barely acknowledging me as he talks to some fake wanna-be Barbie about how his ex-wife is married with a baby. I watched as his entire demeanor changed. It was as if he completely shut down. Gone was the playful, fun, flirty Chase, and in his place was the closed-off, broken-hearted shell of a man.

  I knew he wasn’t available. He’s made it clear so many times when he talks to Alec. He was with his wife for years, gave her all of himself, and when she cheated on him, it destroyed him. In the last year, he’s never been with the same woman more than a few times. I would know since I would see them coming in and out of his room—until he agreed to take it to their place instead. Maybe that’s changed in the last few months, but I would think if he were serious with someone, he would’ve brought her around or, at the very least, mentioned her.

  The fact is, Chase has never pretended to be someone he’s not. He’s mentioned on more than one occasion he doesn’t want to get married again. Alec told him he’d think differently once he met someone worth putting his heart on the line for, but Chase disagreed.

  The ride home was quiet, Chase obviously in his own head. I tried to talk to him, but he cut me off, telling me he didn’t want to talk. And once we were through the door, without so much as a good night, he retreated to his room.

  I was a little upset when he refused to introduce me to his… whatever she was… friend of his ex-wife? But what hurt even worse was the way he raised up a wall between us afterward. I thought we were friends, but the way he treated me on the way home was like I was nothing to him. I opened up to him, and he couldn’t do the same for me.

  Needing to take my mind off Chase, I lose myself in my work, and before I know it, it’s already six in the morning and my phone is going off.

  Lexi: Abigail was up all night. I’m exhausted. Raincheck?

  My heart hurts, and the loneliness I feel has me wanting to throw my blanket over my head and disappear. So, after I text Lexi back that it’s okay and we’ll get together another time, that’s exactly what I do.

  Chase

  Fuck, I’m such an asshole. I was stuck in my own head last night and I completely shut Georgia out. I went straight to bed and passed out, just needing to shake off everything Fiona said. I’m so used to keeping women at a distance, I didn’t even consider Georgia’s feelings, just pushed her away and slammed the door on her face—literally and figuratively.

  Now I’m pacing the floor, waiting for her to get home. She had breakfast plans with Lexi, and when I woke up, she was already gone. I texted her, asking if we could talk so I could apologize, but she hasn’t responded.

  Figuring she’s busy with her sister and might be a while, I get dressed to go for a run. I can use the fresh air and time to think. But when I get downstairs, I notice Georgia’s monster of a truck is in her parking spot. I pull out my phone and text Lexi.

  Me: Is Georgia with you?

  Maybe Lexi picked her up.

  Lexi: No, I had to cancel breakfast. Abigail was up all night…

  Fuck, does that mean she’s still in her room? It’s almost noon.

  Lexi: Everything okay?

  I should probably mind my own business, but my guilt over the way I treated Georgia, mixed with the way I know Georgia is hurting because of her sister, steers my next text.

  Me: Maybe you should ask your sister that… if you ever make the effort to spend time with her.

  I shove my phone into my pocket and run back upstairs to see if Georgia’s in her room. When I knock on her door, she doesn’t answer. I twist the knob and since it’s not locked, I open the door. What if she hit her head or something? I need to make sure she’s okay.

  When I enter the room, she’s sleeping in her bed. Her face is splotchy from crying, and even in her sleep she looks sad. My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it, going over and sitting on the bed next to her.

  When the mattress dips, she stirs awake. Her bloodshot eyes meet mine, and if I felt bad before, it’s nothing compared to the way I feel now.

  “Lexi said she bailed…”

  Georgia blinks several times, then flinches. “I left my contacts in,” she says, sitting up and swinging her legs around. She disappears into the bathroom and a few minutes later comes out with her glasses on.

  “I thought you were out with your sister.”

  “Nope,” is all she says, grabbing her laptop and sitting back on her bed.

  “I got worried when I found out you weren’t with her and you weren’t answering your phone. I didn’t know you were asleep.”

  “Well, now you know I’m okay, so you can go.”

  I sigh, momentarily closing my eyes. I fucked up and now she’s pushing me away. I deserve it…

  “I’m sorry about last night.”

  She looks up from her laptop. “What are you sorry for?”

  “For pushing you away. I was upset and shouldn’t have taken it out on you. We’re friends and…” When I say the word friends, she flinches. I don’t blame her. Before Fiona showed up, we were flirting and I was about to kiss her. But I can’t go there. All we can be is friends. “I like hanging out with you,” I finish.

  “I don’t need your pity, and I don’t need you to hang out with me or babysit me or whatever it is you’re doing.”

  “That’s not why I’m hanging out with you,” I argue. “I have fun with you. I just… I think we got swept up in the moment and I need you to know I’m not capable of anything more.”

  “Says every player.” She rolls her eyes.

  “Says every person who’s been fucked over,” I volley. “You’ve been in one short relationship, so you don’t get it, but I was with Victoria for over ten years. She was my best friend for years before that. I loved her, and she screwed me. We went from agreeing to spend the rest of our lives together, to her lying and cheating on me.”

  I release a harsh sigh and shake my head. “So, yeah, I sleep around now. Because being single gets lonely, but meaningless sex beats getting my heart smashed again.”

  Georgia frowns. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, shouldn’t have judged you. I spent years in school getting bullied and picked on because everyone assumed I was being stuck-up and thought I was too good to hang out. Guys thought I was playing hard to get… I hated the way they judged and labeled me without knowing the truth, and I shouldn’t have done it to you.”

  “People are shitty. Me included.” I shrug, and she grants me a small smile.

  “You’re not shitty. You’re human.”

  Fuck, she’s so damn forgiving. Whoever she ends up with is one lucky bastard.

  “What do you say we go to lunch?” I suggest. “Neither of us has eaten.”

  “I meant what I said. You don’t have to hang out with me.”

  “And I meant what I said. I want to. I like hanging out with you. I’m not hanging out with you because I pity you. I’m hanging out with you because I want to.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, now, c’mon. Get up, get ready, and let’s go get something to eat. It’s beautiful outside.”

  “Okay,” she says. “I’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”

  “I’ll go change.”

  When I get to my room, I check my messages.

  Lexi: What’s that supposed to mean?

  Lexi: Hello?

  Lexi: My sister and I are just fine.

  Lexi:

  Not wanting to cause shit, I text her back: You’re right, I shouldn’t have texted that. Sorry.

  When she doesn’t respond right away, I click out of the message, get dressed, and then shove my phone into my front pocket. When I step out of my room, Geo
rgia is already dressed and ready to go.

  “I was thinking we could go to the farmer’s market,” I tell her once we’re in my car. “You mentioned finding some recipes to cook, so you could check for any fresh ingredients you need, and while we’re there we can get lunch.”

  She smiles warmly at me. “That sounds great.”

  While I drive, she plugs her phone into my car and plays deejay. When her phone goes off with a text, it dings throughout the car and pops up on my screen as Lexi.

  “She’s sorry for bailing and wants to do a barbecue at her place tomorrow night,” she says, rolling her eyes. I hate that what was once hurt is now turning to anger for her.

  “You know, she does have a new baby… I don’t think she’s purposely bailing on you.”

  “I know,” she says. “I’m not mad at her. I just miss her, and I guess in a way, I feel left behind. We had that perfect path pact, and I didn’t think about what would happen if she found hers and I didn’t find mine.”

  “You’ll find yours,” I tell her, reaching over and squeezing her thigh.

  “Want to go to a barbecue tomorrow night?”

  “Sure. Alec’s been busy too, and I’ve only really seen him at work.”

  “Cool.” She texts her sister back then turns up the music.

  When we get to the farmer’s market, we explore each of the booths. Georgia pulls up the recipes she found and buys several of the ingredients she’ll need.

  “I think I got everything,” she says, popping a strawberry into her mouth. “I’m hungry. Where should we eat?”

  I laugh that she’s actually hungry. I swear for every item she bought, we ate two. Most women I’m around are so worried about their weight, they eat like rabbits. It’s nice to be around a woman with an appetite.

 

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