Opposites Ignite Sadira Stone (drm ebook reader .TXT) 📖

as she whirled down a vortex of self-doubt. Should she have denied it? Pretended to be asleep? Had she just screwed up everything by blurting her stupid, impulsive feelings?

Her words tumbled out. “It’s too soon, right? You don’t have to say it back. I just—I care about you, and I love that you care about me, and I love the way you’re always on my side, and the way you touch me, and your huge, mushy heart.” She lay her palm over his chest. “I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend or anything, but I think about you all the time and whenever something good happens I want to call you, even though I know you’re busy, and last night I dreamed you were holding me and I woke up and you weren’t there and I was so sad and—well, here we are.” She grimaced. “Does that make sense?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Perfect sense.” He brushed his lips over hers. “You’re a fuckin’ poet, Rosie. I love you too.”

“Yeah?” Warmth bloomed beneath her sternum, spreading up and down and out until she was sure she must be glowing like neon.

“Absolutely.” Grinning, he kissed her. “And it’s not too soon. I’ve been crushing on you since the day we met.”

Giggling, she wrapped her leg around his hips and pulled him tight against her. He sank into her embrace, and a moment later sank into her. Slow and sweet and so, so good, they rode this new feeling, soaring high and then floating down to earth together, each the other’s shelter, safe and warm.

Chapter Thirteen

“Welcome to Daisy Fresh Dry Cleaning,” Eddie intoned for the umpteenth time that morning.

“Patel. Three suits.” The harried-looking customer didn’t even look up from her phone.

“Right away, ma’am.” He verified her receipt and handed over her freshly cleaned suits. The woman addressed his mother, who hovered at his shoulder. “Such a lovely young man, Mrs. Volkov. You’ve raised him well.”

I’m twenty-eight, not twelve, for fuck’s sake. He pressed his lips in a tight smile before returning to the back room, glancing in the mirror as he passed. His beard hadn’t fallen off. His Adam’s apple still protruded. Yup, still a grown-ass man. Hard to feel that way, though, working under his parents’ close supervision. They’d been extra fussy lately, reminding him of procedures he knew by heart, peering over his shoulder as he worked the register or the steam and press machines, patting him like a goddamn puppy. “Good job, son. Good boy.”

They could afford to hire someone else to help at the front desk, but they’d found fault with every clerk they hired over the past few years. Not that he had any right to complain—they paid him a fair wage and didn’t charge him rent for the apartment, a potential income that could hasten the retirement Dad joked about on the regular. He’d never retire, though, just collapse into the sorting bin at the age of one hundred and float up to heaven, a freshly starched angel.

Eddie snatched his jacket from the hook by the back door. “Pops, I’m taking off now. Be back by two.”

“You put those shirts in the machine?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“And changed the tape in the register?”

“Yes, Dad.” He yanked his wool beanie over his ears.

Mama brushed imaginary lint from his jacket. “Tell Miss Rosie hello from us, right Papa?”

His father grunted.

“And ask if she got a dress for the wedding. If not, we have something on the unclaimed rack that might work.”

“Ma.” He grasped her shoulders. “Rosie is not going to wear someone’s leftover prom dress to Irina’s wedding.”

“Let the boy go, Alina,” Dad grumbled. “Someday all this will be his, and there will be no more time for long lunches with cute girlfriends.”

Though the temperature in the back room was near sauna-level, an icy finger slid down Eddie’s spine. He pecked his mother’s cheek and slipped out the door.

A wide grin bloomed as he cranked his engine and started for Rosie’s house. No high in his life matched the feeling of waking up to her warm, curvy body in his bed. In fact, since she spent every night there, she might as well move in, right? How long should he wait before asking her?

Cool your jets, idiot.

Rosie’s mom greeted him at the door, her hair in a messy topknot, wearing sweatpants and a fuzzy fleece top—odd attire for a high school teacher on a Thursday.

“Hi, Diana. No school today?”

“Caught strep from a student.” She gave him a sharp-eyed smile that raised the hairs on his nape. “Listen, Eddie, you and Rosie are both adults, so this isn’t really my business. But I can’t help noticing the change in her schedule. She used to come back from work around two or three in the morning. Now she comes back at seven or eight.”

His throat constricted.

What do you say to your new girlfriend’s mom? Gosh, ma’am, I sure love boinking your daughter? Any chance you’d like to turn her room into a guest room?

He shuffled his feet on the carpet. “I, uh, really like spending time with Rosie. With my day job and her job search, we don’t get much time together.” He risked a glance at Diana and found her smiling, just a little. “I wish we could have more, but for now I’ll take what I can get.”

She patted his shoulder. “Relax, hon. Rosie seems happy lately. I’m glad you two found each other. Nice to see her with someone who isn’t covered in ink. So, you two going to Doyle’s?”

“Yes ma’am.” Of course, he’d take careful notes of their menu, décor, seating, serving arrangement, special events, foot traffic... But this outing was mainly about spending time with Rosie. So far, they’d only been on one proper date, and that bugged him. Love wasn’t supposed to come this easy, with no effort at courtship.

“Well, have fun.” Diana returned to the living room and wrapped herself in a crocheted afghan. “Assuming you can pry her out of her tattoo lair.”

Eddie