Rascal (Rascals Book 1)(68)

“Move in with me, Alex,” he said. “We won’t be as close to the bar, but it’s more space, and we can turn the spare room into your office.”

I didn’t know what to say. We had been spending a lot of time at Emerson’s apartment, and it was absolutely gorgeous. It wasn’t far from the bar and had an amazing view of Chicago. I could still walk to work, and the bar would still be an easy detour on my way home.

Home.

It was amazing how easy it was to think of Emerson’s apartment as home. I loved my studio, but it was too small and too noisy. And I had always considered it to be a temporary solution. A cheap place that I could afford while I worked my way up at the firm.

And now I was on my way up. I didn’t need my little studio any more. I needed a home. I wanted a home.

I stared at the keys in my hands.

“You’re being very quiet. It’s starting to scare me,” Emerson observed.

I snapped back to reality.

“Yes,” I told him, shifting in his lap so I was facing him.

“Yes?” he asked, his eyes wide. “You’ll move in with me?”

“Yes.” I kissed him. “I would love to move in with you.”

He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight as he kissed me back. Then he broke free and pulled me to my feet.

“Let’s celebrate,” he told me.

“Let me guess,” I teased him. “Champagne?”

He winked at me. “You know me too well,” he said with a big smile before dragging me out of the office and back to the bar.

“Champagne,” he told Chase, who rolled his eyes with a smile.

“I’m guessing he asked you to move in with him, then,” Chase said to me as he placed two champagne flutes in front of us. “He’s only been talking about doing that for the past month or so.”

Emerson threw a napkin at him.

“Seriously, though,” Chase said, pouring us champagne. “I’m happy for you guys.”

“Thank you,” I told him, snuggling into Emerson as he put his arm around me.

“Thanks, dude,” Emerson told his friend.

“What are we toasting to?” Sawyer seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“Emerson finally asked Alex to move in with him,” Chase filled him in.

“Congrats.” Sawyer slapped Emerson on the back and gave me a hug. “Does that mean we don’t have to worry about the noise anymore?”

I laughed. Of course, Sawyer’s number one priority was the bar.

Not that I minded. The bar was important to Chase, and because it was important to him, it was important to me. And that wasn’t the only reason.

Surrounded by friends, I looked around a place I had come to consider as much mine as it was Emerson’s. I felt safe here. Happy. And with Emerson at my side, I saw it for what it was. A home. The place where I belonged.

THE END





Thanks for reading!

The series is just getting started, so if you’d like more from the Rascals crew, keep reading: you can peek the first chapter of Chase and Kelsey’s book, WINGMAN, available to order now!





Five guys. One bar. And a whole heap of sexy trouble…





WINGMAN


Rascals: Book Two





Chase McKenna is the hottest bartender in the city… and he knows it. Sexy, charming, and abs for days? It’s no wonder every girl who walks through the doors is panting for him.

Except me.

I’m stuck crushing on my perfect boss, who has zero idea I’m even alive. I need a plan to catch his attention… and who better to teach me the tricks of seduction than Mr. Panty—Dropper himself?

The rules are simple: no strings, no stress, and definitely no feelings. But it turns out, Chase is way more than I bargained for, and as for the sparks flying between us…?

You can’t teach chemistry like this.

Soon, we’re throwing our lesson plan out the window — and our clothes right after it. We’re breaking all the rules, and my heart’s on the line, but now I’m wondering…

Must all good flings come to an end?

Order now!





1





Kelsey





He was perfect. Tall, dark-haired, broad shouldered, and completely, utterly gorgeous. And I had been staring at him for the past four years.

Not in a creepy, stalker way, of course. All my staring was done in a completely legitimate, socially sanctioned way. Because the handsome man in question was my boss. So I had to look at him. It would be really weird if I didn’t. So basically, I was being paid to stare at his heart-meltingly beautiful face. Which meant that it was the best job ever.

“The new line is going to include waist coats,” Justin was saying. “Or vests, as you Americans call them.”

Did I mention that he was British too? The looks combined with the accent and the fact that my boss was actually a really nice guy, make him damn near irresistible.

Unfortunately, he barely noticed that I exist.

Not that I blame him. Even though we’re a menswear company, he still gets to spend a lot of time with female models, AKA those tall, exotic glamazons that are the literal physical opposite of me, a short, curvy blonde. If they were being generous, my figure could be described as “Rubenesque”, but let’s be real. I’m plump. I’ve got big boobs and a big butt and usually I’m just great with that… until I see him making out with Angelique, or Cici, or whoever the (fat-free fro-yo) flavor of the month is.