Boy … Does He Have Nice Muscles – Just My Type 2nd Preview

Just My Type CoverThree weeks to go until Just My Type releases! Which means, another preview ow what’s to come. In this scene, Janiyah is with her best friend Liz at a young professional’s mixer. Liz and a few other ladies are discussing the recent success of a local businessman that’s made him the town’s most eligible bachelor. And to her surprise, that guy turns out to be her brother’s best friend–and the guy she’s secretly crushed on for years–Fredrick Jenkins.

Just for reference, Marlena and Diane are the women who are talking about Fredrick’s new success.



She would forever be embarrassed for throwing herself at Freddy back then. But thankfully, they’d made an unspoken agreement to never bring it up. Now they shared a close, but strictly platonic, friendship. They lived across the hall from each other. He teased her about the men she dated or her choice of colorful outfits, and she gave him grief about his exciting life of PBS documentaries and button up shirts.

She turned back to Liz. “You all were talking about Freddy?”

Liz sighed. “Don’t you know about his recent success?” Liz must have read the WTF look on her face. “You live right across the hall from him, but know nothing about what he does all day.”

Janiyah shrugged; it didn’t push away the discomfort that she’d somehow done wrong for not taking more of an interest in Freddy’s job. He was an accountant, for goodness’ sake. How interesting can it be looking at numbers all day?

Marlena grinned. “He’s smart, successful, and fine as hell. In other words, Columbia’s most sought after bachelor.”

Janiyah looked at Freddy then back at the woman. “Freddy?”

Freddy strolled over. “Hello, Janiyah, bright as usual.” His toffee colored gaze slowly roamed over her.

There went that damn feeling she tried to ignore when he looked at her like that, a stomach flutter followed by a slight clench. No matter how much her brain understood, her body sometimes forgot that she and Freddy were incompatible with a capital I. Freddy was as straight laced as they come, and even she would snort if someone used those words to describe herself. A complete turn off for a guy like him.

She tried not to care; he wasn’t really her type. Granted, he was good looking. If she were into conservatively dressed, light skinned guys, with sophisticated square framed glasses. He was five foot ten, taller than her, but not exactly towering. He made up for his lack of height with muscles. And, boy, did Freddy have nice muscles. He lifted weights routinely, the most exciting thing she thought he did. He also had a dimple in one cheek going for him. It only made rare appearances if she could coax a full blown smile out of him, and the canine tooth on his left side was crooked in a cute kinda way.

She gave him her brightest smile and bumped his shoulder with hers. “You love my dress, admit it.”

“You look like a stop sign,” he said in his usual voice that was part lecture and part teasing. In other words, the same tone her brothers used.

“And like that sign, I stop traffic.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. Dimple appearance a negative. “That you do.”


Well, I hope you enjoyed it. Next week I’ll give you a peak into Freddy’s mind.


About Synithia W
I write love stories filled with passion and drama at night, I improve air and water quality during the day, and I love my husband and kids in between.

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