Lia's one-year lease is almost up.
With all that had happened between her and Chase, she was at least ninety-nine point nine percent sure that the man was going to ask her to renew her sub-lease. If not, forbid her from moving out. And fuck it if she is going to be looking for a new living arrangement when she could live with the hunk for as long as possible.
But she can't call herself a math teacher if she doesn't acknowledge the very tiny, but still measurable, zero point one percent possibility that he would ask her to move out. She did make an ass out of herself recently, and, quite possibly, not the kind of ass that she knows the man likes.
It had been odd that he had not brought up the subject since last weekend. In fact, the very next thing he told her after that bombshell of a line was word for word. "What should I get for groceries?"
Yes, you are right. What the actual fuck?
