Page 27 of The Kiss Connection

But someone who I was forced to endure a project with and barely to spoke again?

No.

Funny how when suddenly you’re famous, everyone acts like they’re your friend. It fucking sucks.

There’s more commotion outside the door. And then my door handle rattles, like someone is trying to unlock my front door.

That’s weird.

I put my book down and head for the door, glancing through the peephole. Footsteps stumble on the other side, and I can’t quite make out what’s happening, but I hear a soft thud.

Against better judgement, I unlock my apartment door and stare at the dark-haired beauty who is on her ass, knees bent open, fiery red panties staring right at me. She snaps her legs shut and my breath catches in my throat.

“Why are you in my apartment?” Her words slur. Clearly, she’s drunk.

“Juniper,” I say, and the man beside her helps her to her feet, but not before making it clear his intentions with her. His mouth is sloppily all over her neck. He looks a bit animalistic and in no way does it look sexy. “This is my apartment.”

Her brow pinches and she spins around, confused, pushing her date away. The spinning doesn’t do her any favors as she stumbles toward the wall, hands out to keep from smacking into it.

She’s toasted.

Her date continues to have his hands all over her, under her skirt, and I swear to God I can see his palm fondling her ass cheek.

Oh yeah, definite ass cheek, with those lacy red panties as he pushes them to the side.

She’s not the only one with a wave of dizziness rushing over her.

I shouldn’t care what she does or who she does it with, but tonight she’s trashed, and if some low-life thinks he can fuck her…

Hell no.

“I’m really drunk if Myles Dax is in my apartment.” She stumbles again and drops her keys on the ground.

I swoop down to grab them before she can mop the floor.

He’s on her, shoving her back against her apartment door, his mouth covering hers, his hands under her skirt, and she’s pushing him away, but he’s not taking no for an answer.

I yank him back by the collar of his shirt. “You heard the lady. She’s drunk. Which means she’s not giving you consent,” I growl at him.

He’s quite a bit smaller than I am in height, and there’s zero chance he can take me, sober or drunk.

“She’s my date. I bought her dinner, that buys consent.”

“The fuck it does.” I can’t stop myself and I yank back my fist, slamming it into his face.

For the record, his nose was already crooked before I hit it, but now it’s bleeding profusely. His hands at least aren’t on Juniper anymore. He’s holding his bloody nose as it pours like a faucet onto the hallway floor.

“She’s not worth the trouble,” he grumbles and hurries off for the elevator, slamming the button repeatedly for it to hurry.

I grab my keys from inside, close my door and then unlock Juniper’s apartment once I’m confident that loser boy is gone.

Unlocking her front door, I flip the lights on. The layout is the same as my place, but the furniture is different, so is the décor.

“Why did you hit my date?” Juniper asks and pushes me away.

“You’re drunk, Junebear. He wanted to take advantage of you.”

“Junebear? I must really be drunk if I’m hearing you call me a cute nickname.” She stumbles out of her heels and I’m right behind her, making sure that she doesn’t fall and crack her skull on an end table.