The Right Move (Windy City, #2)

by Liz Tomforde

When did I say that? I’m a romance reader. I have a thing for assholes.

“It could be negative twenty, and I’ll hold an iced coffee in my hand while I wear my winter gloves.”

“You’re pretty…bold for someone who just got here yesterday and still hasn’t signed a lease. And you ask a lot of questions.” “You think I’m pretty?” “You heard the first two words and tuned out the rest, huh?”

The realization rams into my chest. I want her here. I want her to want to be here. Fuck, when did that happen?

“There’s my girl.” What the fuck did I say?

Are we still pretending? I’d love to know.

How much love I have for that man after only a few short months is suffocating.

“You haven’t been reading much lately.” I pop my shoulders. “Well, that’s because I don’t feel the need to live in someone else’s reality. I enjoy my own far too much these days.”