Page 262 of Manhattan Bossholes

Jimmy straightened up, fluffing his hair. He looked a little embarrassed.

“Hi,” I said, smiling at the poor kid.

“Jimmy, this is Natasha, a new designer at the company,” Trent explained. “She’s also the one who’s making the new pieces of furniture for Nana Dee. Remember I told you?”

“Yeah. Nice to meet you,” Jimmy said. “I still don’t get why you made her drive this hunk of metal all the way here, though.”

“I hurt my hand,” Trent grumbled, lifting the bandage. “Natasha was kind enough to offer to drive.”

“I have my license but not a car to offer, which is why we’ve both been trapped in this death machine,” I said to Jimmy.

He laughed a bit. “You didn’t see me crying, did you?”

I opened my mouth, closed it. Gave him a wry smile.

“Nice,” he muttered, his cheeks flushing.

Aww, he was adorable. “Don’t worry about it. Your brother was almost in tears when I had to bandage him up.”

“I was not!” Trent shot me a dirty look.

Jimmy snickered.

“How about we all go for dinner?” Trent suggested. “And Natasha stops making up lies?”

“As long as we’re walking,” Jimmy said, eyeing the U-Haul suspiciously. “I can’t be seen with the two of you in that.”

We settled on La Casa Del Taco, a small, brightly decorated Mexican restaurant near campus. It was bustling with students, but we managed to snag a table in the corner of the room. A giant jaguar was painted along the wall.

“The beer here is great,” Jimmy said, picking up his menu.

“Been here before?” Trent asked.

“A couple times.” His gaze snapped in Trent’s direction, and he ducked his head sheepishly. “I mean, not that I’ve tried the beer. Some of my friends have. The ones old enough to drink. It comes highly recommended.”

“We’ve all been there, Jimmy,” Trent said. “I’m not gonna lecture you. Just be careful, like we talked about.”

I agreed it was better not to pretend Jimmy wasn’t drinking with his friends on campus. He was underage, but when had that stopped college kids? The waitress came and dropped off some tortilla chips and salsa before taking our orders.

“Anyway, I also took a girl on a date here,” Jimmy said.

“You’ve already been on a date?” Trent said, his eyebrows arching. “How? You’re only a month into term.”

“Because some of us actually have game,” Jimmy insisted, laughing when Trent’s jaw dropped in mock indignation.

“Oh, is that how it is?” Trent swatted at him, but Jimmy was quick and dodged.

“That’s how it is,” he taunted.

Trent flicked a piece of tortilla chip at him as Jimmy snickered.

I couldn’t help but laugh. Jimmy was sweet and funny and fun, bringing out another side of Trent. It was similar to the way Trent was with his friends, but there was more sweetness to it. More tenderness and protectiveness.

“Where’d you meet this girl?” Trent asked.

Jimmy waggled his brows. “Study hall.”

“As if.”