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I grab my phone and text him.

  ME: WHAT SORT OF THINGS

  NOAH: don’t yell its rude

  ME: THEN TELL ME

  NOAH: it’s PERSONAL

  ME: tell me or I’ll throw away all the gummies you left at my place.

  NOAH: you wouldn’t dare

  ME: wouldn’t I though?

  NOAH: underwear

  ME: I’m sorry?

  NOAH: underwear. I washed my underwear with a red polo and they’re all pink. every pair.

  ME:

  I laugh out loud so hard I snort, and he looks up from his desk, craning his neck to look through my window at me. I stand, walk across the hall to his office, and flop down in the gray captain’s chair across from his annoyingly tidy desk. Seriously, he has one note pad, one folder and a single Post-it note hanging from his computer monitor. I’ve no idea how he works like this.

  “So, tiger, how pink are we talkin’, here?” I put a finger up to catch the tears under my eyes from laughing so hard and hope I don’t have an unintentional smoky-eye look from my mascara.

  “Pink. Like, pink.” He shakes his head.

  “That’s not like you, Noah. You’re the perfect housekeeper. You’re great at laundry. You did such a great job cleaning up my place that I can’t find anything.” I roll my eyes.

  When I mention the cleaning job he did in my apartment, his cheeks briefly flash pink. I can’t say I’ve ever seen that happen before. It’s weird. It’s intriguing.

  “Oh, well…,” he rubs a broad palm up and down the back of his neck. “I’ve been kinda distracted lately. It was just a stupid mistake.”

  “Well, we definitely don’t want you walking around Vegas in pink shorts. What if our rooms are on the same floor? If you pick up some girl, and bring her back, her laughter will probably wake me up.” I fan myself until my laughter subsides.

  “I’m not picking up any girls in Vegas,” he puts his hands behind his head as he leans back in his chair.

  “Oh? You broke up with… what was her name? Marianna? Anyway, that’s been months ago now. Is that back on?” I hope my curiosity sounds light and friendly, though it is definitely neither.

  “No, I didn’t do a bounce-back with Marianna. I’m not picking up women, though. I’m thinking of trying something different…,” he looks down, then casts his eyes up at me, the pale blue orbs turning dark as they peek up from under thick, dark brows.

  “What?! Don’t tell me you’re batting for the other team now. I mean, I’ve had a few gay guys ask me about you, but I always thought for sure you preferred an innie to an outie,” I laugh.

  “Um, no. Definitely one-hundred-percent straight, thanks.” Then he looks at me and we say in unison, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” Seinfeld. Our mutual love of 90s sitcoms are boundless. It is one of a thousand things that make him perfect.

  “So, what then?” I dip my brows.

  “I’m taking a little break from the usual, that’s all. I’m thinking maybe I want to try…I dunno. Something…more.” He shrugs and holds my gaze intensely.

  “So…,” I swallow hard, the words catching in my throat.

  Please, dear God, tell me this isn’t the conversation I’ve dreaded for years. Please, please, don’t let him have found someone he’s serious about.

  I immediately feel selfish and hateful. Noah’s my best friend, and he deserves to be happy. I just always envisioned that happiness as a platonic relationship with me wherein he never, ever gets married, or dates anyone seriously, and we eventually move into the same retirement home together to continue our shenanigans well into our old age.

  I continue. “Have you met someone then?” My voice betrays more than I want it to.

  He narrows his eyes, scanning my face for a moment.

  What the hell is he looking for?

  “No, I haven’t met someone.” He smiles and the Heavens part, sun rays shining down on my face as angels sing in glorious harmony. “I’m just doing some self-reflection, that’s all.”

  “Wow. That’s deep, Adler. Especially from a guy who’s going to have to self-service like a dozen times a day if he’s going to go through a self-imposed dry spell.” I laugh, then stop as the idea of him touching himself materializes into an image that morphs with the one in my mind of him in nothing but a towel in my bedroom.

  The temperature in his office rises by at least two-hundred-sixty-seven degrees and I involuntarily fan myself.

  He leans forward across his desk and cocks an eyebrow up at me. “Oh yeah? I can go without. In fact,” he does his best Seinfeld impression, “I bet I can go longer than you!”

  “No freaking way.” I retort with a scoff. “There is NO way a boy can go longer than me without…ya know.” I cross my arms and slink back in the chair smugly, nose in the air.

  “I am the master of my domain!” Noah chuckles.

  “Nope. Non. Nyet. No way you can go longer than me.”

  “Oh yeah, wanna make a bet?” He challenges.

  “Sure! I’ll be happy to best you and show you how superior I am. What stakes?”

  He crosses his arms and scratches his jaw, looking at me intensely. Suddenly, his computer chimes indicating a calendar appointment and he glances at the clock.

  “Shit. Let’s continue this discussion tonight. I’ve got a meeting. Off you go,” he stands and scrapes his fingers through the air as if to brush me off.

  Chapter 4

  Noah

  I’m surprised when my buddy Todd texts me and asks if I can meet him for lunch, but I’m happy to see the guy. We met when we both worked at the company I was at before Summit. Todd got married at twenty-four and now they have a houseful of kids. With all the family commitments and kids’ activities, I don’t get to see him or his wife Karen as often as I’d like to.

  I walk into the small Thai restaurant with the elephant painted on the window and nearly hit my head on one of the red and gold lanterns hanging inside the doorway. The place has great food but to say the place is small and quirky is being a little generous.

  “There he is! How’s it going, man? Still living the dream?” Todd stands up, giving me a hearty handshake and a slap on the back when I get to our table.

  “Me? You’re the one who’s living the dream, bro. How’s that gorgeous wife of yours? Still too good for you?”

  He laughs. “Don’t I know it. Let’s just hope to God she never figures it out.”

  Over lunch, he shows me pictures of three of the cutest damn kids I know and catches me up on work. When a meeting brought him to my side of town for the day, he says he thought to text me, and tell him I’m glad he caught me.

  “So, throw an old married guy a bone. You still making the rounds these days?” He scarfs down the last pork dumpling in the center of the table just as the waitress takes the plate away.

  “Ya know, Todd, I’ve gotten kind of tired of the same old merry-go-round of random women. In fact, I’m thinking about settling down.” His eyes go wide at this comment.

  “Say it ain’t so, Noah. You met a girl that’s going to make the Casanova of the Queen City hang up his pickup lines? You’re breaking my heart, dude. You’re supposed to go out there and live the life us married guys all fantasize about.” He chuckles. “So, tell me about the magical goddess that’s making you hang up your little black book.”

  “Well, actually…we’re not dating yet; Not officially, anyway.” I tell him about Elle and how I’ve realized she’s the one.

  “So, what do you think? Am I a complete idiot or should I go for it? How did you know Karen was the one?” The waitress puts down our plates and I dig in,

  “Me and Karen? Oh, yeah, I knew the day I met her. She’s gorgeous, obviously, but there was just something about the way she carried herself, the way she spoke. I just knew I had to figure out a way to spend time with her. Once I did, I guess I was just hooked.” He shakes his head, looks suspiciously
at the chopsticks, then grabs a fork and tucks in.

  “Same with me. There’s no one else like Elle, and I doubt there ever will be. I just hope I’m not totally missing something here. I hope she feels the same way I do.”

  When we leave the restaurant, I make Todd promise to call soon to hang out. “In fact, if you want, I’ll come hang out, let Karen have the night off and I’ll help you on kid duty. Uncle Noah, at your service.” I turn my palm toward him and bow playfully.

  “I might take you up on that, man. When she goes to book club, she always comes home in a good mood, if you get what I mean. After chasing the kids all night, I’m pretty tired, though. Maybe I can let them wear you out instead and still reap the benefits.” He laughs, slaps me on the shoulder, and we head our separate ways.

  L

  When I get back from lunch, Elle’s office is empty, and I realize she’s probably in the monthly marketing readout. Her challenge has me intrigued. She thinks she can go longer than I can without… what do girls call it, anyway? For guys it’s charming the snake, choking the chicken, spanking the monkey… weird that we use so many animal euphemisms for masturbation. Anyway, whatever girls call it, she thinks she can go without longer than me. More than anything, Elle hates to lose a bet. It occurs to me that I could use her competitiveness to my advantage. I just have to figure out how.

  I decide to give it some thought later, and head up to the conference room for my afternoon meeting.

  I have a team of a dozen salespeople and six order fulfillment techs under me at Summit. I handle bringing most of the big accounts, like large retail chains and online stores, on board myself. Once we agree to terms, I hand over the day-to-day account maintenance and new product line sales to my team.

  I spend the afternoon with HR, processing a termination on one of my sales reps, a complete asshole, as it turns out, who has been fucking his way to the top grossing sales spot. He was dating buyers from a couple of our biggest accounts, getting them to move their business to him. On top of that, one of our inbound account agents was dating him and funneling all the inbound sales inquiries to him. After leaving HR, I have to get my boss, Jordan, to sign off on paying back the commissions to the other salespeople. I might be in sales, and I’m not above pouring on the charm to close a deal, but I won’t put up with that sort of bullshit on my team. I believe in succeeding by doing the work, not by ripping off someone else.

  Jessica is on the phone when I walk up, so she waves me in. I sit down in the leather chair across the massive mahogany desk from Jordan. “Here are the figures I told you about. I feel like the right thing to do is to pay the lost commission to the other reps for the accounts that Brett stole from them.”

  “Noah, this is a lot of money. Why the hell didn’t we catch this asshole sooner?”

  “Well, sir,” I clear my throat and lean forward a little in my chair. “Reps trade clients sometimes so that wasn’t a flag. When I saw Maria’s sales numbers dip, though, well, she’s always been my top performer. Steve always gave her a little shit. I had to break up an argument between them a couple of weeks ago about a territory boundary, but she never came to me to report what was really going on. Once I started digging, I found out what he was doing and brought it straight to HR.”

  Jordan stands up and paces for a moment, running a hand across his jaw. “So how did he pull this off and cost us so damn much money?”

  “Well, sir, he was sleeping with one of the fulfillment techs. She was diverting all the call-in orders to him. It looks like he was also seeing a couple of the buyers for big clients in Maria’s territory, and got them to move their accounts over. I’ve already set up a new weekly report that flags any requests for rep change and I’m signing off on each one personally to ensure I know what’s going on.” I stand and pace a little.

  “Look, it’s my team—my responsibility. If you want to take the repayment to the sales team out of my bonus, I’m okay with that. I won’t have them penalized for someone stealing their accounts, though, even if I have to pay them back out of my own pocket.” I put my hands on my hips and brace for him to agree.

  Jordan stares at me for a long moment, then shakes his head. “You acted quickly and got to the bottom of it. I appreciate your willingness to stand up for your people; That’s the sign of a strong leader. I’m not going to dock your bonus. Just… work with HR. Set up some quarterly integrity training to make sure this sorta thing doesn’t happen again, understand?” He shakes my hand and I head back down to my own office.

  I inwardly breath a huge sigh of relief, because I need that money right now more than ever.

  When I told Elle earlier that I was thinking of trying something different, this is part of what I meant. We’ve driven by this house, one in our neighborhood, a hundred times, and she has always made comments on how great it is. It’s the perfect place for us to start our life together as a real couple.

  I want to do things right with her. I could just try to seduce her. God knows she hasn’t been dating much lately, and a few, well-timed moves might do the trick. I want more than that, though. I absolutely want to do every filthy thing I’ve been dreaming of with her, but I want her to be mine, first. If I could just get her to see that we’re already perfect… that we would just be adding a physical component to what’s already the perfect relationship, I’d be golden.

  I bet if I could just get her to kiss me once—a real kiss—I bet she’d realize we belong together. She’d see that we can’t lose.

  That’s when it hits me. Can’t lose.

  I have an idea that just might work.

  Chapter 5

  Elle

  After work, Noah and I go to our respective homes to change. We live less than a mile apart. Closer to half a mile, really. I could walk it. I never would, but I could, in an apocalypse type of situation.

  As I wrangle my hair into a band mustering all the fervor and strength of a Greco-roman wrestler to get it under control, I hear the front door open. Noah texted me a few minutes ago that he was almost here. When he walks into my bedroom, he’s wearing khakis, and a polo shirt, one of the loose-cut ones that hang down camouflaging his trim torso.

  I am wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a loose, V-necked tee. I see his reflection in the mirror I’m using to tackle my wild hair as he walks up behind me. His eyes are locked on mine in the mirror.

  Why in the world is he looking at me like that?

  Something in the seriousness of his gaze makes me instantly uncomfortable, and I shift my weight from foot to foot. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but he has been intense lately.

  “Nice tee,” he says, looking me up and down in the mirror.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I look down at the emerald green cotton and immediately consider changing my clothes.

  “It means, nice tee. It is a tee, and it looks nice on you. Sheesh!” He rolls his eyes and steps up behind me, still meeting my eye in the mirror. He’s only a few years older than me, but still, standing here like this I look like his adolescent little sister because I’m so tiny in comparison. He’s big and built and all man.

  “You ready?”

  “Yep, I’m ready, pink shorts. Let’s roll.” He narrows his eyes at my reflection.

  “You are paying for that.” His voice is deep and quiet. It’s his determination voice, and it usually means I’m in trouble.

  Ruh-roh.

  “What? I just meant…,” I don’t get to finish. His huge hands are on my sides, mercilessly tickling my ribs.

  I am insanely, irrationally ticklish. I can’t get pedicures. Massages are totally out. Even medical exams are iffy. I laugh like a crazy person. I can’t help myself.

  I try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he is an unreasonably large human, and I can’t quite get away from him. Laughing almost to the point of hyperventilation, I double over, hoping to escape, but instead, he scoops me up, depositing me on the bed and grabs my feet.
r />   Please, no! Not. The. Feet!

  I don’t have socks or shoes on yet and he has one foot, scratching the arch of it lightly with his fingernails. I beg for mercy and start flailing with my free leg, not trying to hurt him so much as trying to make him stop before I do something mortifyingly unladylike. Like pee on myself. Or fart.

  As I start flailing with my foot, I—completely by accident—nearly graze his boys. His eyes get wide.

  “Oh, hell no! Now you’ve done it!” He exclaims with a mischievous grin.

  He lunges, pinning me down and goes after my ribs again. “Say it. Say it, Ariel, or I won’t stop until you pee yourself.”

  Damn him.

  “No! Stop it, Noah! I’m serious! I’m going to hyperventilate! You’re going to have to call nine-hundred-and-eleven! Stop!” I am crying real tears now I’m laughing so hard. I somehow hate and love this all at the same time, and he knows it.

  He shifts his weight so he’s face to face with me, still relentlessly digging his massive fingers into my sides. As I wriggle back and forth, I become suddenly aware of his body. His muscled frame is wide and firm against me, and my body, hateful betrayer that it is, is responding even though I don’t want it to.

  “Please… Noah, I’m begging you. Please!” I squeal so loud and he is so close that I might have burst his eardrums.

  He moves his hands down to mine and grabs them, pinning my wrists above my head with one giant hand.

  “Come on, Elle. You know what I wanna hear. Say it.” He moves his face closer, so his nose is almost touching mine. “Say it.”

  He is grinning like a kid, and his eyes are sparkling. I’m smiling too, but my stomach is doing flips, and I make a futile attempt to keep my mind from telling my legs to wrap around his torso. It takes every ounce of effort in my puny body not to move my mouth forward two millimeters and suck on his bottom lip.

  I seriously might be having a third-life crisis or something because every thought I have about my best friend lately seems to be dirty.

  “Noah,” I say his name quietly.

  “Elle.”