Page 49 of Somehow You Knew

“Suit yourself.”

I finish the rest of my soda before tossing the can into the trash. When I spin around, I run into the woman I was sure had just left the room.

Reaching out to steady us before we both go crashing to the floor, I grip her shoulders, teetering on my feet as I regain my balance.

“Fuck.”

“Sorry. I just…” Hazel’s eyes dart to the counter. “I was just coming back for the letter.”

“Why?”

She shrugs, but her eyes are full of emotion. “I was going to keep it with the other one. I figured we might need to refer back to them at some point, you know?”

“Oh. Yeah, good idea.”

Hazel’s breasts rise and fall with labored breaths, and with each one, her nipples graze my chest.

She’s so much shorter than the women I usually pursue. Hell, I feel like that’s part of the reason her nickname suits her so well. Tiny but mighty. Stubborn but sharp. With each new argument, I feel like I discover a new wrinkle in her brow, another corner of her mind I want to explore.

What the fuck am I even thinking right now?

Holding my breath, I twist to grab the envelope off the counter and hand it to her.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Good night, Hazel.”

“Good night.”

But before she gets too far, I call out to her. “Could you send me those pictures of my aunt, please?”

She stops in her tracks and turns back to me, a sad smile on her lips. “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

With a tight-lipped smile, she walks back down the hallway to her room.

And I don’t miss the way her ass sways as she does.

Chapter nine

Hazel

“But you’re supposed to open my car door.”

I flick my gaze between Gage and the motorcycle.

“Well, if we take this, then I don’t have to.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not sure I trust you not to get us both killed on this thing. Plus, if we find something at the thrift store for the apartment, how are we supposed to bring it home?”

He steps closer to me, tipping my chin up with his fingers so I have no choice but to look into his striking green eyes—the same ones that shamelessly took in every inch of my body when I walked out of my room in my black romper, ready for our date.

“I would never let anything happen to you on my bike, all right, Spitfire?”

The sound of that nickname coming off his lips is beginning to do sinful things to my lady bits, along with the way he’s commanding my attention right now. If any other man had tried what he just did, I’d be punching him in the junk, but it seems I’m out of my element around Gage—something I’m becoming increasingly aware of.

“I’m sure you say that to all the girls,” I mutter.