Page 48 of Truck Me

But being back home has shown me that this life fits me too. I’m happy and relaxed in a way I never was in Chicago. And despite how different we are, I can’t deny Garret fits me too.

That thought has me rereading my list, begging my mind to come up with more reasons we’re all wrong for each other.

Reasons I should not like Garret Mutter

1. He’s not my type.

2. He’s grumpy and angry all the time. I don’t like grumpy and angry.

3. We may have chemistry, but I’m not convinced he really likes me.

4. It’s just sex to him. I don’t care what I told him. I don’t do just sex.

5. He’s too close to Rayne. Having a casual relationship could make that awkward.

6. He’s my next-door neighbor for the foreseeable future. Again, that could be awkward.

7.

I drop my head back and sigh.

Nope.

It didn’t work. Instead, my mind is overflowing with reasons he and I should do it again.

I’ve never had a one-night stand before, and that’s all it was. I insisted I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and that’s the only reason he gave into his desire for me.

It was one glorious night of the best, dirtiest sex I’ve ever had. It was so good it shocked me. I ran out of there without a word. I didn’t know how to react, and it freaked me out.

The way he commanded me to drop to my knees and crawl to him still has my insides tingling with need. Who knew I liked it when a man talked to me like that? I sure as shit didn’t.

So fucking hot.

Did he see it that way too? As the best sex he’s ever had. Or just one night?

He definitely enjoyed it as much as me. But that doesn’t mean he wants to do it again.

“Ugh,” I groan and slam my notebook closed.

I shouldn’t be thinking about him. I should fill this dead space in my schedule with something productive.

I’m working today, and Mrs. Engle isn’t here to talk my ear off for a change. She comes in most days when I’m working and acts like I can’t handle it on my own. If she only knew how stressful my job was in Chicago. She wouldn’t be able to handle it, that’s for sure.

I look at the schedule again as if an appointment is going to magically appear since I last checked it twenty minutes ago. Just like then, my next appointment isn’t until one o’clock. I’ve got another twenty minutes to kill.

Picking up my phone, I pull up Sierra’s name and shoot her a quick text.

Charlotte

Can you talk?

Sierra

Sure, what’s up?

Charlotte

Calling you if that’s okay.