Page 5 of The Virgin Gift (The Gift 2)
The only challenge? Nina was as tempting as the most decadent dessert, the kind you wanted to sneak a bite of when no one was looking.
A dark-haired angel with red cat-eye glasses, glossy lips, and a tight body. With her deadpan wit, locomotive-fast brain, and toned body, my next-door neighbor was enticing every single second of the day and every damn nanosecond of the night.
But I had mastered the fine art of restraint over the last year I’d spent on hiatus from any and every form of romantic relationship. And Nina never gave any indication that she was game for more. Even if she’d been game, I wasn’t in the market for more than that, given the way my last relationship had imploded—with my ex behind bars.
With that kind of track record, I was taking a break from romance.
Friendship though? I knew what I was doing in that department, and I intended for Nina to stay there.
I banished the tempting thoughts of her once again.
I clicked open our text thread and asked her if I could extend my stay at Hotel Nina.
Her answer was swift, giving me the yes I’d been hoping for.
My day improved instantly. Definitely back to a B-plus. Setting the phone in its holder, I pulled out of the office lot and headed for my high-rise, calling Jake on the drive home. My attorney, who was also my good friend, answered on the first ring.
“If you keep calling me, I’m going to have to up my hourly. No more friendship discount for you,” he said wryly.
A laugh burst from my chest. “If the rate you charge me is your friends-and-family discount, then I don’t want to know what you charge your other clients,” I said.
“Oh, yes, you do. You might switch to law if you knew what I was pulling.”
“Doubtful. I like being the king of my domain too much,” I said, since owning my production studio and taking all the risks—which meant reaping all the rewards—was what I liked. What I loved.
“With the contracts we just signed, I’d say you’re the king, prince, and heir to your domain,” Jake remarked. “Those were some epic deals.”
“Exactly. That’s why I’m calling, and this is a friend call so your hourly better be zero right now.”
“What’s that? I can’t hear you.”
“Drinks are on me. Can you hear me now?” I asked as I slowed to a stop at a red light.
“That was crystal clear,” he deadpanned, but then cleared his throat. “Seriously though. Drinks are definitely on me, and yes, we need to celebrate inking deals for all these new shows. This weekend? You up for it?”
I put my foot to the gas when the light changed. “I’m always up for a night out.”
“And will your pajama party friend be joining the festivities?” he asked in a high-pitched tone, clearly mocking me and, by extension, Nina.
I rolled my eyes. “Please. We don’t have pajama parties. We have pillow fights. Get it right.”
“Aww, that’s so adorable. Do you two do face masks together and paint your nails too?”
“Of course, then we write in our diaries,” I said, laughing. “Anyway, asshole, I’m sure Nina’s up for a night out with the crew, but I’ll ask her.”
Jake took a beat then dropped the ribbing. “How are the sleepovers with her? That can’t be easy.”
As I turned on my street, I noodled on his comment briefly. Was I that transparent with my little bout of lust for her? No way. That wasn’t possible. I’d never let on that I’d had a single stray dirty thought about her. I tossed back a question, deflecting. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re you, and she’s her, and you two have that weird mind meld going on half the time we’re all together,” he said, and I breathed a sigh of relief that nothing more was obvious to him.
“Just good friends. I still have the burn marks on my back from Rose. I’m not interested in anything right now,” I said, telling the truth as I mentioned my ex. I didn’t want to be involved with anyone, and Nina was the kind of girl who didn’t do one-night stands. Plus, I didn’t think Nina and I could ever be compatible in certain other ways. She was a good girl. And I was the type of guy who corrupted good girls.
“Which means you’re keeping her warm at night with your sweet, charming personality? Got it,” he said, returning to trash talk, like he often did.
“Sweet?” I asked with a scoff. “Sweet is for candy, and I don’t care for candy. But charming? I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you very much. And I’m spending the night again because the painters aren’t done.”
“Ah, yes, more proof that you’re into her.”
“Because I don’t want to inhale fumes while I sleep?”
