Page 9 of Wright Together

I wasn’t about to let another rich, pretty guy implode my life. Not when I was finally in a good place again.

“Right,” I whispered and pushed off of the door.

With a clear mind, I headed back into my room and stripped out of my professional attire. I still wasn’t used to wearing dress clothes. Not where I’d grown up. I’d always be more comfortable in my cowboy boots over my Louboutins. No matter how incredible my ass looked when I wore them.

I put my work heels in their place of honor. They gave me legitimacy for my clients, even here in West Texas. But I was over them, and I needed a different kind of armor to go deal with Whitt.

I pulled on a pair of short frayed-edge jean shorts and a baby-blue crop top. My hair went up into a sleek ponytail. Then, I slid my feet into my trusty boots. They weren’t the decorative kind that the girls wore on campus with their little minidresses. I’d gotten these in the Stockyards. I’d ridden horses in them. They were sturdy leather and made to last. The last vestiges of my home.

After reapplying a slick of lipstick, I grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge. It really was a thousand degrees out there, and Whitt didn’t have the convenience of changing out of his presumably wool suit and long-sleeved button-up. It was too hot for that mess. No matter how good he looked in it.

I was halfway to the door when my phone dinged in my back pocket. I fished it out and found a text from my other roommate, Blaire.

Whitt is at our house?

“Piper,” I growled.

I’d been living with the girls since our friend Jennifer had moved out…and I’d been evicted from my last property. Word of advice: never move into a property your boyfriend owns without signing a lease.

But even though I’d been living with the girls for a year, I still wasn’t used to the way they gossiped. I’d never had girlfriends to gossip with…only be gossiped about. And so having Piper tell Blaire I was with Whitt triggered something deep within the pit of my stomach.

Spill! I want to know what’s going on. Piper wouldn’t tell me anything!

I blew out a breath of relief. This wasn’t gossip. This was how girlfriends spoke to each other. They wanted to know all the juicy details. Blaire and Piper were excited for me rather than talking shit about me. I needed to get used to the distinction, but it was hard to break the fear from twenty-five years of backstabbing.

He just drove me home. My car wouldn’t start. He’s giving me a jump.

Is that a sexual innuendo?

I snorted.

No. He’s jumping the battery in my car.

Are either of you naked in this scenario?

Blaire!

Don’t act prudish now!

I’m not prudish. I’m just not a horny teenager!

Please, we’re all horny teenagers.

Blaire was one of those girl-power people. She’d started a successful influencing program for women to achieve their dreams and move past their insecurities. She was constantly using her therapist speak on me about embracing my inherent identity and releasing shame. But I didn’t know what shame she had. She was with the hottest rockstar on the planet and picking up PR gigs all over the country. Girl practically had a fairy godmother waving a wand over her head and giving her the perfect life. I wouldn’t mind one of those.

Whitt is a thirst trap.

He’s probably just thirsty right now. I left him outside in the heat.

I sent her a picture of me holding the bottles of water.

You mean, he’s thirsty for you.??

I left her on Read and stuffed my phone back in my pocket. I couldn’t justify a response. Because the way Whitt had been looking at me, hedidlook thirsty. And, fuck, so was I.

With both bottles in one hand, I opened the front door and headed outside. Cables were connected to our two cars. Whitt sat on my driver’s side and was revving the engine. It sounded like it was going to turn over, a ticking noise came from one side, but then it stopped. That didn’t look like a good sign.

Whitt stepped out of my 4Runner. He’d already shed his jacket and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing powerful forearms. My eyes traveled over him as he strode to the engine. His eyes roved over the parts. I had a rudimentary understanding of how things worked. I could change a tire and jump a car. Though I knew how to change the oil, I opted for one of those fifteen-minute places instead. The only things I knew beyond that were the parts that I’d had to replace.