Losing Control Read Online Free PDF

there.
    “We can set it up in here, but we’ll have to eat it out there, I don’t even have TV trays. I really am an embarrassment to bachelors and bachelorettes everywhere.”
    “Nah, you’re good. I hope you like chicken.”
    She watched as he opened the bag and pulled out a black Styrofoam box. As the smell hit her, her mouth watered. This was her absolute favorite. “How did you know I like mine dipped in hot honey mustard? I can smell it.”
    Happiness bubbled in his chest and stomach. “I see you eat this at Wet Wanda’s all the time.”
    “Just how long have you been watchin’ me?” she asked as she dipped a piece of the chicken into the sauce and brought it up to her lips.
    “Long enough,” he answered evasively.
    “There you go, acting like Tyler again.” She hit him in the stomach.
    He wagged his eyebrows up and down, grinning at her. “It got him the girl, didn’t it?”
    She couldn’t argue with his logic at all.

Chapter Seven

    T he two sat in a comfortable silence in her living room. She, working on her paper, he, reading a book on his phone. When they had finished eating, Bianca had grabbed her textbook and told him quickly that she had work to do. Not even bothering to question her, he’d taken off his boots and cut, then he’d gotten comfortable on her couch. With great interest, she watched as he had lain down and pulled his phone out.
    “What are you doing?”
    “Reading my book while you get your homework done,” he explained.
    “I didn’t know you liked to read,” she grinned up at him from where she sat on the floor.
    “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” The way he said it was very matter-of-fact and it stung.
    “Ouch,” she winced as his retort. “Maybe we should work on getting to know each other better then.”
    He crossed his ankles, uncrossed them, and then crossed them again. “That’s just what I’ve been tryin’ to tell you.”
    She laughed and went back to writing her paper on her laptop. This was one of the hardest papers she had written since deciding on her course of study. It counted for almost half her grade, and she was nervous about it not being good enough. A psychologist would probably have a field day with her and tell her that the feeling of her paper not being good enough resonated from her childhood feelings of never being from the right side of the tracks. Frustrated, she ran a hand through her hair and blew out a deep breath, she had to get out of her own head.
    “You okay?” he asked from where he still lay on the couch.
    It was easy for her just to go ahead and nod. “Yeah, I guess so.”
    “Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear, tell me the truth.”
    That was hard for her. She was used to hiding how she felt from everyone all the time. At the club, she had to hide the disgust she felt when certain men rubbed up against her. She had to hide the look of recognition when she saw regulars on the street. When she was little she had to hide how she felt about using those paper dollar food stamps at the grocery store. People had looked and pointed at her, whispering that her mother had gotten pregnant with her to ‘draw a check’. She was very good at hiding her true feelings.
    Worry caused her to pull her bottom lip between her teeth. “This paper is so important to my grade, it’s making me nervous. I always feel like I’m at a disadvantage.”
    “Why do you think that?” he asked, his forehead crinkling with the question.
    “Because I’m so much older than everybody else.”
    A gut-busting laugh came out of his mouth. “You are not so much older than everybody else. You’re what? Twenty-five?”
    “Almost twenty-six, but most everybody in my classes aren’t on the ‘other side’ of twenty. Speaking of which, how old are you?”
    Being a new member of the club, she wondered if maybe he was younger than she had initially thought.
    “I just turned twenty-four. Not that much younger than you.”
    That was weird;