April (Calendar Girl #4) Read Free Page A

tomorrow. Great job!” she called out through the house two seconds before the door slammed shut.
    Mason slumped against the back of the couch. “Fuck me.”
    I shook my head and leaned back. “Not gonna happen.” He chuckled. “What was that?”
    “That was me kissing a seriously hot escort.” His eyes glinted with a hint of lust, but I knew better. It was body mechanics. Sure he was drop dead gorgeous, and I can’t say that kissing him didn’t get my juices flowing, but attraction and genuine interest are two totally different things.
    “You like her,” I offered him an olive branch.
    His lips pinched together and he closed his eyes. “Of course I do. She’s nice and I pay them well. We’re all happy. What’s not to like?”
    “That not what I mean and you know it.”
    “Look, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry and you need to get settled. There’s a bunch of shit, in bags, that Rachel or Val purchased as part of the deal. I didn’t put it away; I just set it on the bed. Pizza okay?”
    He stood quickly and started to walk away and then must have thought better of it. He turned and offered his hand. “Thanks for taking the job,” he said as he pulled me to my feet. “Your room is the first door on the right, unless you want to share mine,” he waggled his eyebrows and thrust his hips. I blew out a fast breath and shook my head. As I started walking, he smacked me hard on the ass.
    “That’s a mighty fine ass ya got there, Mia.”
    I stopped, cocked a hip, and put my hand on it. “If you want to keep that hand, you’ll keep it off my ass.”
    He backed away with two hands up. “Okay, okay, just getting a little practice in for tomorrow’s game. No harm, no foul, right?”
    “Save it for the game. You’re going to need it.” I sauntered to the stairs thinking I’d gotten the last word when I heard him respond just as I got to the top of the stairs.
    “Honey, don’t you know I always play to win?”
    Oh brother.
     

Chapter 2
     
    The moment a girl like me finds bliss in clothing, it should be treated like a national holiday, highlighted, and circled on the calendar with a giant red Sharpie pen. Tugging on a sleek new pair of True Religion jeans, followed by a tight, Red Sox t-shirt, had me wanting to bow down to Aunt Millie for scoring me this gig. I was spending a month with a famous baseball pitcher. Sure, he was rough around the edges, immature, and needed a spanking…and not the good kind, but you couldn’t beat a job where you got to rock jeans and t-shirts. I slipped on a pair of red converse and just about melted.
    I looked at myself in the mirror, sliding a hand over my rounded ass. Yep, still looking pretty tight. I hadn’t put on any weight since this started; I was still a good size eight, but felt tight where I needed and soft where I wanted. The overall picture seemed to be booking me gigs, and I was getting closer and closer to paying off Blaine. Four payments down, six to go. If I booked every month, I could leave this life before the holidays. Though who am I kidding? I was making a hundred grand a month, sometimes with an additional twenty thousand. Why give it up?
    As I pulled my long black waves into cute pigtails, another thing I found out men like Mason dig on, and placed a baseball cap on my head, my thoughts trailed to Wes. Out of anyone, he’s the one thing I’d like to pursue. When we’re together, it’s everything. Apart, I find it too easy to come up with reasons that we’re not meant to be or that our connection isn’t as strong as I wanted to think it was. Basically, I figured out that I was really good at protecting my heart, but I missed him. It had been a couple weeks. Wouldn’t hurt to reach out…
    I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. It rang a few times before a female voice I didn’t recognize answered. “Hello,” she giggled.
    “Um, Hi, I think I may have got the wrong number.”
    She laughed, and I could hear feet slapping