Todos los capítulos de My Three Hot Neighbors and Our Fake Date: Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

LAYLAJosh nods. “He has informed me on multiple occasions that having a son who runs an ‘agony aunt’ column is deeply embarrassing. But I don’t exactly care about his opinion. He’s a terrible person.”Crap. “And your mum?” I follow up, almost scared to ask. Josh doesn’t say anything, spinning his water glass between his fingers. I may be socially stunted, but I know how to take a hint, so I turn to Zack.“What about your parents?”“They don’t mind me doin’ the podcast,” he says happily. “I think they’re still kinda sad I’m not playing rugby, though. It was my dream ever since I was a kid. They were as cut up as me when I injured my knee.”“Did you have to get surgery?”“Oh, aye.” He yanks up the ankle of his dress trousers, showing me the long scar striping down the front of his knee.I trace my finger over the raised skin. “I wish I could’ve seen you play rugby.”“I’m glad you didn’t, love. I was a prick back then.”“You’re a prick now,” I say kindly. “Does it still hurt?”He smiles

JOSHZack whistles, stroking Layla’s arm. “You’re spicy tonight.”She stares at Luke’s closed door, a sad look in her eyes. “Bitchy, you mean.”“He’ll get over it,” I assure her. “You didn’t say anything that isn’t true.”She kicks the leg of the coffee table. “I’m just sick of him treating me like I’m a sixteen-year-old kid he needs to hold at arm’s length. We’re supposed to be friends, and he won’t even talk to me like an equal. He’d probably turn himself in to the police if I tried to hug him.”“Aw.” Zack tugs a strand of her hair. “You wanna hug Luke? Listen, he gets cuddly when he’s drunk, so I can tell you it’s nothing worth getting upset over. Now, where were we?”“You were asking if I read smutty books,” Layla says drily.“Right.” He casts around, picking up a notepad off the coffee table. “Hey, why don’t we make your list together? You clearly need extra help in this area. Tell me your top ten turn-ons, and why you think they’re hot.” He flips to a new page and looks at her e

LAYLAHe pulls away again, turning back to the screen.My mouth opens and closes like a fish’s. “Josh!”“Hm?” He doesn’t look away from the TV. “Can I help you?”“Kiss me properly!”“No,” he says flatly. “Watch the movie.”I gape at him, then turn to Zack, who’s started twirling a strand of my hair between his fingers. “Kiss me,” I order.He rolls his eyes. “For God’s sake, lass. Relax, already. You’re so wound up all the time.” He scoops me further into his side. “Cuddle with your boyfriends, lollipop.” I pinch him in the ribs so hard he hisses. “What was that for?!”“Teasing me. Either shag me or don’t, but don’t drag it out like this.”He gives me a fond look. “Why? Want to get it over with?”“Well, no, but—”“Sex isn’t an item you can check off on a to-do list,” he reminds me. “Look at you. You’re all clenched up. There’s no point trying to get you off when you’re like this.” He squeezes my thigh.I wriggle in his grasp. “But—”“Who is the teacher here?” He interrupts. “And who is

ZACKLayla just looks at me, her chest rising and falling in little pants, and for a moment, everything else falls away. I’ve never seen her like this — so soft and pliable. A feeling I haven’t felt in a long time starts to grow in my chest.Shaking my head, I push the emotion back and wrap my arms around her, lifting her right off her feet. She swears as I start to carry her out of the lounge and towards my bedroom.“What are you doing, you Neanderthal?” She shouts, trying to kick my legs.“Put me down. You can’t just carry people!”I throw my head back and laugh so hard I almost drop her. “I bloody love you,” I say, and she snaps her mouth shut. “You deserve a bed.”“How romantic of you,” she says dryly in my ear. “Didn’t you talk about banging a woman on her kitchen table the other day?” Her voice is light, but I can hear the desire in it. The image of her, all naked and flushed and wet on our dinner table flashes before my eyes.I give her bum a little slap. “Next time. I’m tryin

LAYLA“I’m telling you, I made the order,” I say for the fifth time into my phone, rubbing my face.I’ve been sitting at my bedroom desk for the last five hours, and I feel like crap. My back is aching, my eyes keep falling shut, and I haven’t gotten more than four consecutive hours’ sleep in the past five days.This week has been mental. Sunday’s episode of Three Single Guys was a smash hit. The podcast reached number three on the UK podcast and radio charts and has barely dropped in popularity since. My socials are blowing up; I’m now at 50K PictureGram followers, and my Twitter notifications are coming in so fast I can’t physically keep up. After I did the ad segment for my upcoming Butterfly collection, I got over a thousand pre-orders overnight, and they’re still trickling in. I’m scrambling to get everything ready for the release day in five months. Sales on my previous collection are through the roof, so I need to get all of those orders packed, processed, and shipped. I’ve e