Read Online JENNY LOPEZ HAS A BAD WEEK by Kelk Lindsey - Free Book Online Page A

banter was just what this apartment needed. Banter and abs.
    ‘See?’
    Wherever Sigge was from, they weren’t big on joking around. Right there in the kitchen, he pulled up his shirt and displayed the most perfectly defined stomach I had ever seen. It was everything I could do to keep my hands to myself. I had no idea what Sigge’s shoot was for, but I would be buying whatever it was in bulk.
    ‘Um, impressive?’ I gave myself a mental shakedown, tried to suppress my ladyboner and pushed past him. ‘So, you want the tour?’
    ‘This is the American custom, I am told,’ he assented with a graceful nod. ‘The tour of the home?’
    ‘Well, yeah.’ It was an exclusively American custom to give someone a tour of the apartment they were thinking about renting? Europeans were weird. ‘So this is obviously the kitchen.’
    ‘Where you cook?’ he asked.
    ‘Yeah right,’ I shook my head. I shouldn’t get his hopes up. ‘And the kitchen leads into the living room.’ Kitchen was really overdoing it: the fridge, sink, tiny stove and microwave that lined the walls as you entered the apartment led into a room dominated by my beloved sofa and the wonderful, wonderful TV.
    ‘The bathroom is just here; it’s tiny but I’m sure you’ll fit,’ I pointed down the hallway, cutting him off when he tried to speak. ‘Questions at the end of the tour. And this is the bedroom.’
    No point showing him my room. And it would be too depressing to have such a fine specimen of man inside those four walls when the closest we’d ever get to going to bed together was a potential pillow fight.
    ‘The bedroom?’
    ‘You don’t want to see the bedroom?’ I couldn’t help but smile at the look on his little face. He seemed so confused. His English was great so it wasn’t as though he didn’t understand. What was the problem? ‘Did you want to ask me anything before we did this?’
    ‘No,’ he returned my smile. ‘Show me the bedroom.’
    ‘It’s got a great view.’ I scooted round the bed to open the windows and turned to point out the sights. ‘You can see the Chrysler Building if you look this—’
    Before I could finish my sentence, Sigge launched himself on me. All six foot whatever of giant man meat was pressed up against me, my back cold against the window. Once I’d got over the shock of the tongue in my mouth and regained mybalance, I pushed him away hard, kicking him in the balls for good measure. Man, those abs really were hard.
    ‘What are you doing?’ I squealed, knocking him onto the bed. ‘Dude, no!’
    ‘But you brought me into the bedroom?’ He looked genuinely upset. And like I’d landed a pretty good kick to the nuts.
    ‘You came to see the bedroom,’ I pointed out. ‘And you’re gay.’
    ‘I’m not gay,’ Sigge protested from the bed, still cradling his crotch. ‘And I did not come to see the bedroom, I came to see you. I thought you wanted me to … do that.’
    ‘Attack me? It wasn’t at the top of my to-do list,’ I yelled. And then I realized what had happened. ‘You didn’t come to see the bedroom?’
    This really was not ideal. I pressed my fingers against my lips.
    ‘I can’t say I wasn’t hoping I would see it at some point,’ he replied, standing up awkwardly. ‘But I was thinking perhaps drinks or dinner first.’
    I put my hands on my head and winced. ‘You thought this was a date?’
    He nodded.
    ‘But you said you were looking for somewhere to live.’ I pulled my ponytail tight. ‘I thought you were gay. My friend thought you were gay.’
    ‘I am looking for somewhere to live but not with you!’ He threw his arms up in the air and looked to the ceiling for an answer. ‘Everyone thinks that I am gay! I am not gay!’
    ‘You’re not gay?’
    ‘I’m not.’
    ‘And you thought this was a date?’
    ‘I did. This is why I asked for your number. This is why I arrive with flowers at seven on a Friday night. I’m Swedish, I’m not stupid.’
    ‘Shit.’
    Turns