Beautiful PRICK by Sophia Kenzie Read Free Book Online Page A

eyes and quickly bites his lower lip before
he continues. “I feel like that’s obvious, Caroline.”
     
    Of all the low down, dirty, scummy ways someone has tried to
get me into bed, this is by far the sneakiest… most conniving… most tempting…
     
    “You’re coming home with me.” He holds his credit card up in
the air and signals to the cocktail waitress.
     
    I want to. Oh God, why do I want to? But I can’t. I won’t. I
still hate him.
     
    I stand up from the table, trying to find any bit of left
over self-respect.
     
    I can’t.
     
    “Well we can’t both ride your bike, now can we?” I try to
make it seem as though I’m taking back over the situation.
    “It’s a three block walk.”
    “Really?” I drop my hands to my sides. “You only live three
blocks from the studio?”
    “The producers are renting me an apartment there. I actually
live in a beach house in Santa Barbara.”
     
    And now, I hate him more.
     
    The walk is fine. It’s fine. He makes stupid little jokes, I
reply with snarky comments, and then we walk in silence.
     
    Of course the apartment is worth more than my entire
apartment building.
     
    “Why do you need all this?”
    “Why not?” He smiles as he pushes open the door.
     
    Eh, he has a point. If I had the
money, I would certainly live in a place like this. I really can’t judge him,
for that at least.
     
    “Question for you…” I take a step toward him, trying my best
to act as though I’m seducing him. I’m sure it’s not coming off that way
though, as I would definitely consider myself less of a sexy person and more of
an awkward person. “Why were you so adamant that I become your assistant?”
     
    He takes a step into me. Hey, maybe drunk Caroline is sexy. Who
knew? “Because I wanted to make sure I saw you again.” He whispers as he
brushes the back of his hand against my cheek.
     
    Wow, that was oddly sweet. I wasn’t expecting that.
     
    Thenhe just keeps talking. “I
always pick my assistants based on if I plan to sleep with them.”
     
    And there it is.
     
    I knew it, I knew it all along, and yet I let myself get
sucked up in his little Welsh accent-y game.
     
    Ugh. Just ugh.
     
    If I were not so utterly shocked, I’m sure I could come up
with something witty. Instead, I simply make some sort of shrieking sound
before I turn and run for the first door I see.
     
    I throw the door open, close it behind me, and securely lock
myself inside. I’ve proved my point.
     
    Unfortunately, the first door I saw was the coat closet.

 
     
    CHAPTER NINE
     
    It’s about an hour before I finally decide to sneak out of
the closet. Johnny had spent a good twenty minutes trying to coax me back out
into the living room, but I was so utterly embarrassed by the whole thing that
I refused to even acknowledge him.
     
    He even offered to let me sleep in the bedroom and he would
take the couch, but I just knew he’d get too much satisfaction from that. I
wanted control, even if I had to sleep in the closet, I was taking it.
     
    But after an hour crammed in a small coat closet, I was over
it.
     
    “Are you still out here?” I whisper into the darkness.
     
    There’s no reply, so I assume I’m safe. I tip toe into the
center of the room, looking this way and that, just in case he’s hiding in the
shadows. On the couch I notice two pillows atop a folded blanket, a glass of
water, and a bottle of ibuprofen on the coffee table.
     
    Why can’t he just be all bad? This minuscule act of
thoughtfulness humanizes him and in my still-drunk state, makes me smile. I
don’t want to smile at the thought of him. I want nothing more than to hate his
non-nectarine knowing ass.
     
    Is that too much to ask?
     
    But as I look around, I feel myself soften. The room is
bright, even in the darkness. There are a few pictures, but not too many, and
not many at all of him. Most of the pictures are actually of a dog—some sort of
shepherd. I catch myself staring at one