I tidied Max into an obedient ball on the rug beneath the desk and willed him to stay put as Devi returned, shutting the door behind herself.
“I know,” she gushed. “So fucking hot, right?”
Um, yeah. But I knew better than to answer that honestly. The last time I casually inquired about a hot guy I glimpsed at my best friend’s office, she took it upon herself to hook the two of us up on a blind date. And when a hot male model gets set up with someone he assumes will be some equally hot female model, but turns out to be just some regular girl, things do not go well. For the regular girl.
Luckily, Devi didn’t even wait for my response. “Jesus, Katie.” She strode over, a takeout coffee cup in each hand. “What the hell?”
“I know. Max just bolted for your office—”
“Not that.” She gave me a no-contact air hug, then glanced down at my chest. “You look like a sexy drowned rat. Heard of an umbrella?”
“My hands were full.”
Devi scowled. “Do not tell me you rode your skateboard in the rain. I hate it when you do that.”
I rolled my eyes a little. My glamorous best friend had never understood my love affair with my skateboard. Of course, she drove a luxury SUV her parents bought for her and lived in her own suite in their giant house, so she didn’t exactly relate to my thriftiness. In the case of my preferred mode of transportation, she just saw it as risky behavior. Unfortunately, my big sister agreed with her. “Becca already gave me the lecture when I stopped to pick up the coffees.”
Devi set my cherry-vanilla latte on the desk with a littleharrumphand eyed the mini pies with suspicion. “You’ve been baking.”
“Just some pies.” I flopped into one of the chairs facing the desk, which still had hot guy pheromones all over it. I sucked back a deep breath, savoring the lingering scents of cinnamon, leather, and the faint, intoxicating musk of a warm, clean male.
“Katie.”
“What?” I glanced up; Devi was studying me accusingly.
“Justpie?”
“And some scones.”
She raised a slender eyebrow.
“And a few cookies,” I added.
“What flavor?”
“Chocolate chip.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And pecan butter ripple.”
“I knew it. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You look…” Devi looked at me sideways. “Horny.”
“I am not horny,” I lied. Who wouldn’t be after getting eye-fucked like that? My head was still dangerously deprived of blood.
Devi sat down behind her desk. She looked gorgeous, as always, her dark hair smoothed out, flawless cappuccino skin set off with velvety red lipstick, sleeveless black top tricked out with a chunky necklace and leopard-print leggings, all of which she’d probably worn specifically for the meeting she’d just had. Fashion was just one of the many ways Devi built rapport with people.
I, on the other hand, considered myself coordinated if I managed to pull on matching shoes.
“Spill.” She gathered up the slew of model photos that littered the surface of her desk, stuffing them into a file folder. “I’ve got like ten minutes before my next meeting. What’s up?”
“Nothing. We just miss you.” It was true; my best friend had been pulling a lot of overtime, which was great for her career but not so great for me.
“I miss you guys too.” She reached beneath the desk and pet Max. “But that’s not the reason you busted in here.”
