“Ev. Evelyn. Evelyn.” Her voice gets progressively higher until she’s shouting into the phone at her sister. A tidbit I remember from the other night. “I’m meeting someone for dinner. He’s here now… No, I didn’t say it was a date… No, that doesn’t mean I’m free for you to hook me up with Jeremy… Are you really not going to drop this?” She listens for a minute, huffing and rolling her eyes. Whoever the fuck Jeremy is, Brielle clearly wants no part of him. She looks at me again, mouthing an apology while she waits for her sister to finish. “Okay, love you, Ev. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Everything good?” I ask, reaching out to help her off her stool.
She places her hand in mine, and tingles light up every nerve ending up my arm. Her eyes suddenly shine, and she shamelessly rakes them over me slowly from head to toe. My body reacts to her perusal in a visceral way; my heart pumps faster, heat floods every place her gazetouches, and a shot of lust shoots through my system as blood rushes to my dick.
“You know how you owe me for this weekend?” she says.
I couldn’t have heard her right. Did she seriously just say thatIoweher?
“What?” I hold the door open for her and lead her to my car, opening the door for her. She slides inside, tucking her feet in, but before I close the door, I lean in. “Did you say thatIoweyou?”
She smiles at me, a devious grin that is equal parts concerning and sexy as hell.
I shake my head, closing her in, and round the car.
This ought to be good.
“I need a favor,” she says as I drive us back to my apartment.
“What kind of favor?”
“The correct response is ‘Of course, Brielle, you’re forced to give up so much of your time to help me in my time of need, and I am eternally grateful.’”
“What kind of favor?” I repeat, irrationally irritated all of a sudden.
“I need you to be my date,” she says, casual as can be.
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?” Her voice goes up three octaves, completely incredulous that I would deny her.
“Just that. No.” We agreed to one weekend. Every day that I spend in her company toes the line of what is appropriate as it is, and knowing that it has been such a burden to her all week solidifies that in my mind. I need to get through this weekend and back to my regular business.
“You owe me, big-time, and I’m calling it in,” she gripes.
“I don’t owe you anything,” I tell her. “You’re the reason we’re in this mess. You wouldn’t have beenforcedto spend your weeknightswith me preparing for this weekend retreat if you weren’t the one to agree to it in the first place,” I bite out.
She doesn’t hold back her attitude, responding with a bold sass. “I wouldn’t have been at that dinner at all if I didn’t do you the original favor of going to that dinner with you.Youstarted this, not me. You came into my office looking for a date, remember? Now, I’m doing you a favor by going on this trip. The least you could do is repay it.”
“I didn’t realize this was such an imposition, considering you signed us up for it. I wouldn’t want toforceyou to spend any more time with me.” I sound like a petulant toddler, and I know it. It shouldn’t bother me that Brielle has more exciting things to do with her weeknights than spend them with her boss, but it irks me all the same.
Brielle lets out a heavy sigh beside me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. This week has been really nice. I just need to bring a date with me to my family thing—the one that I asked the day off for—so that my bitchy cousin stops pitying me because she ended up with my high school boyfriend, and since we’re already fake dating…” She trails off.
I’m not considering it. I don’t need to spend any more time alone with Brielle. So I don’t know why I ask, “Is that where Jeremy comes into the picture?”
“Yes. My sister, in her classic optimism, wants to hook me up with a friend of her husband’s.” Her shoulders slump, and she leans back into her seat, sinking into it. “I guess it will be better than going alone. I’ll call her back and tell her to set it up, if he’s still willing to go with me.”
Red-hot jealousy rips through me. Any man who has a chance to take her out anddoesn’tfind a way to be available is an idiot. “This is that thing two weeks from now?”
She looks at me, hope shining in her eyes, and my chest constricts. I keep my attention on the road, otherwise I’ll find myself agreeing just so I don’t have to see her disappointment.
“Yes. Does that mean you’ll come with me? Please?” she pleads.
It turns out that keeping my eyes on the road doesn’t help at all. I still can’t bring myself to squash the hopefulness in her voice.
“Fine,” I agree.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she squeals, leaning over and planting a kiss to the scruff of my jaw.
