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Beautiful Distraction(25)

By:J.C. Reed


He closes the door behind him.

I swallow hard and stare at the empty space he left behind.

Eventually, I shake my head and pull the covers over my face, groaning loudly.

Mandy left without telling me? And what the fuck did Kellan mean by putting on some clothes…or not? I thought I had made myself clear back in NYC that I wasn’t interested in him.

My impression of him seems to shift from one end of the spectrum to the next, just like my emotions shift from guilty awe to the desperate need to hate him. He looks like a decent but sexy kind of guy when he just smiles. But once he opens his mouth, every single thing that comes out of it seems to irk me.

It’s like sex is the only thing he ever thinks about.

How the fuck can someone like him focus on work long enough to make a living and drive the half a million car he does?

Okay, I’ll admit I Googled the price tag of his Lamborghini.

Judging from what I’ve seen so far, he’s filthy rich with a filthy mouth and even filthier morals.

I’ve never been around a guy like him.

Even though breakfast sounds like something I’m very much in need of, the idea of being alone with him doesn’t seem too appealing. But if I avoid him, he’ll think I’m doing it because he’s so sexy I can’t take it.

Which is kind of the truth.

I can’t take just how much he gets under my skin.

Obviously, this nonsense has to stop.

Mandy has to come back now.

Full stop.

Grabbing the phone from my night table, I dial her number, but the instant beep confirms I have no signal.

Crap!

I toss the phone onto the bed and jump up. Maybe Kellan will let me use his landline to call her, which means I’ll have to join him downstairs.

Clutching at my toothbrush and my makeup bag, I head for the bathroom down the hall. On my way there, I peer inside Mandy’s room. Her bag’s still here; the contents of her suitcase are neatly stashed inside the wardrobe. I can’t believe she’s taken the time to unpack, as though she’s not planning on leaving today, as per our agreement.

It still doesn’t make sense why she’d just leave without asking me to tag along.

Unless….

I freeze as the sudden realization hits me.

She left so I’d get to spend time alone with Kellan…and get rid of the cobwebs between my legs.

I know that because that’s exactly what someone like Mandy would do.

Obviously, I’ll have to tell my idiot best friend her attempt was in vain.

I won’t sleep with him. Full stop. I’m a woman who has morals, or at least someone who attempts to have morals.

As soon as I step in front of the mirror, I cringe.

My hair is a mess, and my eyes are swollen, framed by dark circles.

I look like a ragdoll.

Kellan didn’t seem to mind much though.

He seems to want me, just as much as I want him. I just don’t have the faintest idea why.

Why am I even asking myself this question?

Whatever the answer is, I have to run from him without letting him know that I’m doing so. While I wouldn’t mind a bit of fun, my heart beats a bit too fast around him, which is never a good sign.

I throw on yesterday’s jeans and top, run a hand through my hair, then apply some mascara and a sheer shade of red lipstick. Finally, I head out the door, confident that I can do this.





CHAPTER NINE





I can’t do this.

Breathing in and out, I let my gaze brush over the kitchen, which is a manly thing decorated in lots of dark wood and expensive stainless steel.

The kitchen is huge and probably the only modern part of the house, with its east side entirely made of glass. Outside, the woods stretch out for miles. In the distance, a lake shimmers in the bright light. Without a doubt, the place is quite the sight.

But compared to Kellan, it’s nothing.

He busies himself with pouring two mugs of steaming coffee and shoveling several layers of what I assume is toast onto a plate next to boiled eggs, cheese, bacon, and waffles. Next, he resumes making us an omelet as well. He takes his sweet time, which gives me plenty of opportunity to stare at the dark tips of his hair brushing the collar of his shirt. From his broad shoulders to his low-hanging jeans and cowboy boots—everything screams rural life.

And holy hotness!

If I didn’t know any better, I’d doubt he’s the same person from NYC who was dressed in a tailored suit and exiting the most expensive car I’ve ever seen.

So, what’s he doing here?

Buried deep in my thoughts, I don’t realize that he’s turned around and is now regarding me.

“If you like the view, I’ll be happy to provide a more in-depth one,” Kellan says. The frown lodged between his stunning eyes contradicts the humor in his voice. “In fact, I’m not averse to touching either. I give and take in equal measures.”