Propping my feet up, I put the laptop back on my thighs and look at the screen. I’m about to start typing again when the cushion next to me dips with the weight of the man taking a seat beside me. When I glance up the bottle is sitting on the counter looking like a forgotten thought. “What are you working on anyway?” He slings his arm behind me, resting it on the top of the couch. I roll my head toward him. The scent of his cologne is so damn sexy. I wish he’d bathe in fish oil, so he’d have at least one repulsive trait.
