Page 44 of Wicked Angel
She flashed me a delighted grin. “See you later, roomie!” Then she disappeared out the door to the garage. I knew she was excited about us being roommates. I didn’t exactly feel the same.
I mean, living with Shayla would be fun as hell. I still felt like a freeloader, though.
Time to get working.
I picked up my coffee and headed upstairs, trying to pump myself up to start this new chapter in my life. But instead, I felt flattened. As it turned out, there was getting dumped, getting fired, almost getting molested by a stranger… then a whole other sub-level of low beneath that.
Johnny O’s cleaning lady.
Shiiiit.
If only yester-me could see me now. You know, the version of me that had a thing for Johnny foryears. But she was dead and gone now. I’d buried her the night I kissed him behind my boyfriend’s back.
And no way was I resurrecting her. That girl was dumb as shit.
Just because Johnny swooped in and saved me the other night like some sexy angel and then grudgingly gave me a place to live and a job, I did not feel a thing for him, and I was never going to.
Other than the hate crush. As much as I liked to pretend it was a thing of the past… it had a way of circling back around. Kind of like the flu; occasionally slipped past your defenses, invaded your system, made you achy and sick until you finally purged it… until the next time it struck.
I headed into Shayla’s room, planning to wear something that I could get filthy in. Surely that mess in the backyard was just a glimpse of the horrors that awaited me next door. I still didn’t have any of my stuff with me, or any idea when or how I’d be getting it.
But as it turned out, the stuff Shay had pulled for me to wear was… problematic. Unless all I planned to do today was lounge out by Johnny’s pool and look good in case a cute FedEx guy dropped by with a package or something. Which, knowing Shayla, was exactly what she hoped I’d really be doing today.
She’d left me not one but three string bikinis.
I dug through the pile of scraps she’d left on her bed for me. Micro mini skirts. Short shorts. There wasn’t an actual shirt to be found. And while I wasn’t exactly the bustiest girl around, Shayla was thin as a rail; my boobs would never fit into her teeny, tiny bikini tops. The thought of scrubbing Johnny’s floors while wearing one, and him walking in on me, made me shiver.
I decided to put his T-shirt back on, with a pair of Shayla’s tiny shorts underneath. Because who cared if Johnny’s shirt got destroyed. He hadn’t asked for it back. And it barely even smelled like him anymore.
I took a little sniff of the soft yellow fabric and my pussy actually contracted. Like, immediately.Yup, still smells like him.I made a barfing face at myself in the mirror, trying to convince myself that he grossed me out. I was really leaning into the hate end of that crush. It was the only sensible thing to do.
I used Shayla’s stuff to wash my face properly and tied my hair up in a messy knot. I forced myself to eat some breakfast. Then I brushed my teeth with the toothbrush Shay had bought for me on her way home yesterday—seriously; bless her, and to hell with her brother. Shayla O’Reilly was the true angel in my life right now.
Then I headed next door.
As I set out, carrying a bucket loaded with every cleaning supply I could find in Shayla’s cupboards and closets, I was feeling pretty desperate to prove my worth here—to my new landlord and worse, to myself. I also promised myself that I’d give it one week,onefucking cleaning, and then no matter what happened, I’d have to tell Shayla about this. If I didn’t have any job prospects within a week, I’d have to come clean with her before I cleaned her brother’s house again.
No roof over my head was worth sneaking around behind my best friend’s back.
I knocked on Johnny’s back door, but no one answered. I went around and peeked through the window into his garage. His beloved Dodge Hellcat wasn’t there, so I knew he was out.
I let myself in through the back door off the kitchen with the spare key that Shayla kept on a big keyring by her back door. Shayla did it all the time, to raid his bar, etcetera. But I’d never been in here alone before, and my heart was already beating in a weird way. It was the adrenaline rush of creeping around in Johnny’s house when he wasn’t here and no one else was here to see me.
His personal space. His private things.
Rooms where maybe he walked around naked.
And did other stuff naked.
I shivered, in an undeniably sexual way. Because I was a creeper like that.
At least no one was here to know it but me, right?
For the first time, I wondered if Johnny had any cleverly hidden security cameras in his house. I looked around but I didn’t see any.
Then the scene of last night’s party really hit me.Whoa.It was worse than the pool area outside. Bottles, glasses, dishes, half-eaten food… fuckingeverywhere.
Johnny was so neat and tidy about his appearance. Fastidious, even. His house always seemed that way, too. Whenever he was away working, touring, and Shay brought us here to use his pool or the hot tub, everything was clean. His regular cleaner must’ve been really good.
