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Ellie

Day 4 Saturday 8/4

By nine fifty the next morning, I have my Eric duds laid out on the sofa for inspection, tea and coffee on the kitchen table in case Dude 101 requires additional caffeine, and I’m slipping out of my apartment to fetch my new, extra-sticky mustache glue from Spence.

Dude lessons.Seriously.

Ido notneed dude lessons.

What does Jack think I’ve been doing for the past twenty-eight years? I grew up in a house full of men, I wore my brother’s hand-me-downs until I was fourteen, and until my bad haircut grew out and my boobs grew in (sometime around tenth or eleventh grade), I was mistaken for a boy at least once a week.

I practicallyama man. At least on the inside.

I certainly feel more comfortable with men than women.

Then again, karaoke with a few of the ladies from the office last night was a blast. I didn’t score any information for my article—it was too loud in the back of the Korean restaurant—but it was so much fun. No one pressured “Eric” to sing, no one judged the people who did let out their inner diva—even when Barb from accounting massacredMy Heart Will Go On.Twice. And I was home by a respectable ten-thirty.

I would be totally rested, in fact, if I hadn’t tossed and turned until one in the morning, stressing about being alone with Jack in my tiny apartment.

Sexy, sanity-testing, lick-able, off-limits Jack.

Why my twisted libido has decidednowis a good time to develop an even more serious crush on Jack than the one I had in college, I have no idea. Probably because it’s a traitor, like my upper lip, which seems determined to de-sticky-fy every brand of mustache glue known to man.

“You should never have agreed to this,” I grumble, though I know I had no choice. Jack made it clear when he dismissed me yesterday that “no” was not an option.

I wonder if he’s that much of a control freak in the bedroom…

Ugh. Now isnotthe time for fantasizing about the sexual proclivities of my brother’s best friend. I need to get my glue, get home, and get my game face on.

I’m knocking softly on Spence’s door—hoping he and Sonia aren’t sleeping in—when the elevator pings open behind me, and Jack steps out.

I’m not even facing his direction, but Iknowit’s Jack from the eucalyptus, spice, and sexy-as-sin man scent drifting down the hall.

Damn it, he’s early!

I curse beneath my breath as Sonia opens the door, her dark, corkscrew curls forming a sleep-mussed halo around her face.

“My, my…a quarter for my swear jar so early in the morning?” Sonia’s smile lights up her cherub’s face, the one that belies the mischief-maker within. “Not like you, Ellie Bellie, but thank you for starting my morning off right.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll drop it off later.” I glance over my shoulder to see Jack prowling our way, looking ridiculously stylish in gray slacks and a white button-down. I hold up a finger—indicating I’ll be right with him—and turn back to Sonia. “I need to grab that glue your dad scored for me.”

“Just a sec.” Sonia takes a breath, clearly preparing to shout for her father instead of going to get him, in the way of nine-year-olds everywhere, when Spencer appears behind her.

“Heard you knock.” He holds up the glue with one hand as he wraps an arm around Sonia’s shoulders with the other. The contrast between Spencer’s vampire-pallor—a hazard of working in dark theaters—and Sonia’s golden-brown skin is even more startling today than usual.

But before I can ask him if he’s sure that he’s getting enough vitamin D, Spence spots Jack down the hall, and his blue eyes sparkle to life. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus,” he murmurs. “Who is that?”

“Thank you.” I take the glue. “That’s my boss. And my brother’s oldest friend. And my friend. Sort of. Sometimes.” I sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“Sounds like it.” Spencer’s blond brows wiggle. “Sothat’sthe boss man. How have we not heard more about this Tall Drink of Delicious Complications?”

“She’s been holding out on us.” Sonia nods, her lips puckering judgmentally.

“Don’t be crazy.” I back away, refusing to tell either of these lovable gossip hounds anything about Jack. “Catch you two later.”

“Later, Ellie,” they singsong in a way that makes my cheeks flush pink, ensuring I’m more flustered than usual by the time I reach where Jack is leaning against the wall by the fake potted fern.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” he asks, his voice cool.

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