“No,” I say, but even I know it’s moot.
Noah smirks at me. “When’s the last time you had a hot date with a hot guy, Jake?”
I scowl at him. “It’s been… a while.”
Three years to be exact. Despite being listed as bisexual on the website, men aren’t exactly slipping into my calendar like some of the other guys on the roster. Like Bradley or Scout.
“You like him,” Noah says with a knowing smirk.
“I don’t even know him, Noah. I literally just met the guy this morning, and he’s picking me up in less than three hours.”
Noah doesn’t let up with his stupid gaze. Sometimes I hate being a twin.
“You are crushing. Hard.” He laughs. “He must be fine as hell if he’s got you all befuddled.”
I pull out the remaining groceries, mostly some drinks, including coconut water, flavored water, and almond milk and some coffee creamer.
“Befuddled? Really? What have you taken up reading the dictionary lately?”
“Ha. Ha,” he deadpans as he grabs my fruit from in front of me and shoves it into the fridge.
“Seriously, though, I’m sure it’ll all go well. I mean, you’re one of Foxy’s top guys, if anyone can pull off a perfect day with barely any time to pull it together, it’s you.”
I’m not sure if his words are supposed to be comforting, but they aren’t. In fact, they only make me feel like the pressure is on even more. I toss the bag of Skittles at him and it hits him in the chest, but his reflexes are pretty good, so he catches it before it drops.
“Thanks,” I say. Once I’ve finished putting things away, I head for the counter to check out the box of pizza. But one look at the cheesy, greasy goodness and I wrinkle my nose. It smells like bad decisions, and I’m not looking to fuck up this job tonight in any way whatsoever. Especially with T-minus three hours until showtime.
I push the box shut, the blips and chimes of Mario Kart pulling my attention. I look between my brother, on the couch with hisSkittles in his lap, and my hallway that leads to the bathroom and the bedrooms. Technically, my apartment is a two-bedroom, but I use the second bedroom as my library since the living room and the kitchen are open concept. At least in my library-slash-reading room, I can fill the walls with shelves, whereas in my living room, the space is definitely limited.
My apartment isn’t huge, but it costs a pretty penny, despite its size. It’s right outside the city, but it’s so close to everything, it’s practically considered the city in every way. It was the first big purchase I made after working at Foxy’s for a year. Sometimes it still baffles me that I’m able to afford it, and sometimes I worry about what will happen in the future. I know there are guys on Foxy’s roster who are older—in their thirties, forties, even fifties, but I also know this job isn’t a forever thing. It’s a now thing, and I love it, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not my dream job.
I think about Aaron’s Prince Charming persona. I know we’d fully riffed the whole thing, but I can’t stop thinking about his suggestion that I’m an author.
I love the world of romance, and I love to read, but I’ve never really thought of writing a book before.
I push the thought aside as I check my phone, noting I’ve got about two and half hours before my date. I take one look at Noah on the couch, fixated on my television screen, and head over.
“One game,” I say as I pick up the other Switch controller. Noah gives me the biggest grin as I tap in.
“I’m going to smoke your ass, bro,” he says, and I roll my eyes.
“You will eat those words.”
One game turns into two, and two turns into I don’t know how many because I lose track. It’s only when my phone goes off at quarter to four that I realize I’ve lost track of time, and I nearly jump off the couch in a panic.
“Shit!” I curse as I drop the controller and make a beeline for my shower.
I shower in record time and manage to get dressed and ready in under twenty minutes. I take a look at myself in the mirror, take a deep breath, and head out to the living room.
“Daaaamn.” Noah whistles between a mouthful of pizza. “You look like a million bucks.”
I roll my eyes, unable to keep my laugh in because it almost feels like I’m going to the prom or something.
“You can hang out as long as you want,” I say, grabbing my wallet and my keys from the coffee table.
“Although, full disclosure, this event is supposed to go until ten, but—”
Noah waves me off. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Don’t worry, I won’t wait up for you,” he says with a wink. I shake my head.
