Read Online Inseparable by Missy Johnson - Free Book Online

picking the movie,” He walked over to Kella’s DVD cabinet. For a hard ass lesbian turned straight chick with anger issues, Kella sure loved her soppy romantic movies.
    “Is this all you have?” Dane screwed up his face as he read through the selections, “ Gone with the wind, Sleepless in Seattle, True Love, Pretty Woman …” He looked at me, horrified.
    “Don’t blame me. They’re Kella’s,” I jumped to my feet, heading for my room, fully aware he was following me. I fished through one of the boxes in the corner of my room that I was yet to unpack as he stood in the doorway, watching me. After a moment he wandered in, looking at the few photos I had on my dressing table, me vaguely aware of the pile of underwear sitting on the bed I’d yet to put away.
    “You and Abby,” He murmured, gazing at the picture. Not that it was that hard to work out. She was the only identical twin I had. “You two look identical,” He said softly.
    “Yeah,” I replied. Hadn’t I mentioned that? I wasn’t sure what difference it really made in the whole scheme of things.
    “Okay, so we have Die Hard , or Under Siege ,” I handed Dane the movies. I had more, but truthfully I needed him out of my room. He was hard enough to resist in the car, but put me in a setting with a bed and Dane, and I couldn’t promise things wouldn’t happen.
    “Hmmm. Tough choice. Die Hard ,” He answered, throwing Under Siege back on the bed. “You’re still limping,” He commented, as he followed me back into the living room. I wondered if he had checked out my ass. I blushed as I recalled how we’d met.
    “Yeah. Doctor said it might take me a few days to get my strength back in the foot, but it’s so good to be out of that plaster,” I grinned, glancing down at my foot. While in the bedroom, I’d thrown on a pair of socks in an attempt to hide my foot. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything.
    “So, tell me more about you,” He raised his eyebrows as he reached for a slice of pizza, picking off the olives and anchovies. What was left was a limp slice of cheese pizza. I reached over and gathered up his scraps, piling them on top of my slice. He stared at me in disbelief as I took a big bite.
    Me? Shit. It had been that long since anyone had asked about me, I had to think for a moment.
    “That’s a tough question. What do you want to know?” The flavors exploded in my mouth. Mmm. So good! This beat the ass off frozen pizza.
    “You’re not good at talking about yourself,” He laughed. I gave him a look. And he was?
    “Neither are you,” I shot back, “Okay. Something about me. Well, I love fishing, basketball. I’m a bit of a tomboy. The son my parents never had,” I giggled, “And I love my food, but I can’t cook. My skill lies solely in eating,” I added.
    “Well, it’s a good thing I’m a pretty awesome cook, then,” He responded, cocking his eyebrow. I laughed.
    “You?” I repeated, not bothering to hold back my amusement or surprise. I would never have picked Dane to be good at cooking.
    “Yes,” He said with a wounded look, “Why is that so funny? Haven’t we reached a point in our society where a man can be appreciated for his cooking ability?”
    “Sure we have, you just don’t strike me as the type to whip up a gourmet meal,” I giggled.
    “Hold on,” He began, “I never said gourmet, but my skills extend beyond boiled eggs and pasta.” He stopped as I continued to laugh, “Are you done?” He crossed his arms, and narrowed his eyes.
    “I’m sorry,” I apologized, my expression suggesting the opposite. He shook his head.
    “Okay. You leave me no other choice. Tomorrow, you are coming over to my house for dinner. I’m going to cook you a meal that will make you want to throw yourself at me,” He said proudly, and very confidently. Little did he know I already wanted to do just that.
    “Oh, is that right?” I replied sarcastically, “Well I don’t want to miss out on