said, “It would not take me two months to convince you to sleep with me.”
She laughed, almost spitting chocolate onto his dashboard. She covered her mouth with her hand and looked at him. He gave her a cocky grin.
He was right. It would take him about two seconds if he really tried. Which was the point of all her Conner-flirtation-avoidance maneuvers in the past.
“You’re not my type,” she told him.
“Romantic and good in bed is every woman’s type.”
Gabby knew that was exactly why he concentrated on those things. She understood that he was used to being the man. Raising four sisters and helping his mom after his dad’s death had put him in the position of hero at an early age. A position he loved. He loved having women think he was the best thing since someone invented the concept of double chocolate. So he carefully focused on things that would make women put him on the Conner-is-so-amazing pedestal.
“I like long-term relationships,” she told him. “And you’re allergic to them.”
Conner gave a funny grunt in response.
She rolled her eyes. But she knew this was who Conner was. And she knew who she was.
Committed relationships were something Gabby believed in. It sounded cheesy, but she had a big, boisterous, loving family that was built on a series of long-term, committed relationships—from her grandparents to her aunts and uncles to her own parents. It was a foundation, a solid place to come from—and to come home to.
They pulled up in front of his apartment complex and Gabby gathered up what was left of her chocolate bar and her no-way-am-I-wearing-these clothes in the Carl-Mart sack and got out of the truck, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders again.
He led the way to the steps, then gestured for her to precede him.
She was halfway up when she thought of something. “Hey, Conner, I know that you have this thing about keeping things light and easy with women and I know that two months is a lot longer than you typically spend with anyone. But I want to promise you that I won’t need you. I won’t be difficult. I won’t need to cry on your shoulder. None of that. Roommates only, okay?”
He didn’t say anything.
She turned back.
He was checking out her ass.
She grinned. “I guess blonde or brunette doesn’t matter from behind, huh?”
He lifted his gaze to her face, but he took his time about it.
Gabby felt warm everywhere by the time he looked her in the eye.
“You could have green hair with big purple polka dots all over and this view would still be phenomenal,” he said sincerely.
She felt her smile die.
Holy crap. She could not let on how much he’d just turned her on with that one sentence.
“It’s only two months. And I’ll get some baggy pants. Or wear my uniform all the time.”
She bit her lip. Because she was babbling. And she would not turn into one of those babbling, I-have-no-pride-when-you-smile-at-me girls that fed Conner’s ego.
“What’s only two months?” he asked.
“Me staying here.”
“You need to stay here for two months?” he repeated. Then he almost immediately seemed to regret it. “Sorry. It doesn’t matter. Sure, two months is fine.”
“My lease was ending there in two months and I have a deposit down on a new place, but it won’t be available until June fifteenth.”
God, she had to stop. She did not babble. What the hell?
“June fifteenth. Fine.”
It sounded more like he’d said, Root canal. Fine.
He passed her, ascending the rest of the stairs ahead of her, and unlocked the third door on the left. Then he grabbed the duffle bag sitting right outside the door.
Gabby grinned as she recognized it as one of Sierra’s. That woman was a really good friend.
Gabby followed him into the apartment.
He tossed the duffle bag on the couch and kicked his shoes off as she looked around.
His apartment was surprisingly cozy. Her brothers each had apartments and they varied in layout and décor as much as her brothers