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so strange. Nothing like the women I’m used to. I rub my aching chest and ponder ways to make her

happy. I’ve already sent gift baskets and flowers and more shit that I can’t even remember, trying to

get her to move here. And nothing.

No, if I want to get her to stay…at least for the next six weeks, I’m going to have to start thinking

bigger. Those sunglasses flash through my mind again, and I suddenly know just where to start.

It’s going to be a long fucking night.

8

MAYA

T he ride to work the next morning is uneventful. Zach sits in the back, lightly snoring, as Jonas

and I debate vehicle safety. He has such a deadpan way of speaking day to day, but I’m starting

to catch hints of humor. They’re not glaring, but they’re there. He has a dry humor that not

everyone would get. But I do. I’ve already picked up a pattern in his speech. He tends to be more

formal, but when he’s more emotional, he’ll use more contractions. Somehow, understanding that

about him makes me feel a little like I’m a part of things. Like we might be friends.

Honestly, it’s a relief not to have to speak with Zach. I’m finding myself quite overwhelmed with

all the togetherness, and I know I’ll probably be spending most of the day with him again. I can do it. I

can do hard things.

But I’m grateful for the break right now.

Jonas honks the horn when we arrive at work, scaring Zach awake, and he cackles at Zach’s

scream.

“Fucker,” Zach mutters, rubbing his hands over his scruffy cheeks. I haven’t known him long, but

the scruff seems out of place. From what I’ve seen, neat and tidy is the only acceptable look as far as

Zach Lee is concerned.

I’m not stupid. I saw exactly how he looked at me yesterday. He covered it up, but not well

enough. I know my outfits are killing him. Wait until he sees today’s dress. He’s going to shit kittens.

“Since when do you sleep on the way to work?” Jonas questions, spinning in his seat to pin his

brother with an arched brow.

“I was up late,” Zach says with a grunt, climbing out of the backseat of the minivan. I really need

to figure out this commuting thing. Do I really want to drive to work with my bosses each day?

No, I really don’t.