Foolproof by Jennifer Blackwood

spectrum as pigtails and bows.
    “How about pain in the ass?”
    I raised my brow, a feat I learned from Payton. “You’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’.”
    “Can’t touch this.”
    Maybe that throwback song station at Office Jax was getting to him too, if he was pulling out the MC Hammer lyrics.
    “Don’t worry. I’ll keep my hand in my pocket.”
    “Did you just Alanis Morissette me?”
    “So what if I did?”
    We both looked at each other and busted out in laughter. “Please tell me you hate those songs as much as I do.”
    “So much.”
    He smiled—the first genuine smile I’d seen from him since we started working together. It suited him. Much better than the get-off-my-lawn persona. Maybe this summer wouldn’t be as bad as I’d originally thought.

Chapter Eight
    Ryan
    If I had to hear Aaron Carter one more time I was going to kick over the Post-it note display and make it rain yellow slips of paper. I’d much rather be out on the water or out hiking the Sierra Nevadas. They were beautiful this time of year, and the wildlife was out in full force.
    I gritted my teeth and continued to change out price tags for this week’s sales. A price tag caught my eye. A pink pen labeled Squiggles for Her Sleek Gel Pen . A pen. Just for women. People really bought this shit? I must have been a real dick in my previous life if I was stuck here for two months.
    As I stared at the display, Jules strode through the door, her hair flowing behind her like a golden cape. For a split second, Office Jax wasn’t the worst job I could have. Morgues were a step down. And there was always the DMV. Jules definitely made this situation more tolerable. A little more of making a connection and I’d be ready to take it to the next step, which I needed to check up on again. I’d forgotten it since the last time I read the magazine article. I wasn’t proud to admit it, but that stupid list of tips was working.
    “Mornin’, DeShane.”
    The way she pronounced my name, the S almost a whisper, like it was a dirty word, sent my internal temperature climbing. I liked the way her eyes playfully glinted as she said it. “Morning.”
    Ever since the truck incident yesterday, we’d been on speaking terms. A big improvement since the first time we met.
    She leaned against the cardboard Post-it display and fanned her thumb across a pack of sticky notes. “It’s Thursday.”
    Real observant, Peach . “So it is.”
    “Well, let’s hear it.” She looked at me expectantly.
    I stared at her, not sure what to say. Was I supposed to tell her something when she got to work today? I racked my brain, thinking about our trip yesterday. Nothing stood out besides that impressive engine work.
    “You already forgot Compliment Thursday?” She sighed, but a smile still remained on her face. “You’re killin’ me, smalls.”
    “You’re killing me softly.”
    She swatted my arm. “Don’t you even start!”
    “But messing with you is such a thriller.”
    A scoff came out between those glossy lips, sending strawberry and mint wafting over my face. “You’re impossible.”
    “You’re all fired up.”
    She let out a little chuckle and rolled her eyes. “Okay, you win. I’d better go clock in.” She bumped against my shoulder as she sauntered toward the back, my skin burning where she made contact. I shook my head. Messing with Peach probably landed somewhere in the middle of my mountain of bad decisions. But I needed something to go right, even if it was just a hookup with a girl.
    After Jules clocked in and made her way to the service floor, I took my first break. Making sure no one was in the break room, I grabbed the Cosmo magazine from my locker and opened it to the same article I’d looked at a few days ago. I’d hit an all-time low if I was taking advice from a magazine, but, hell, I’d take any help I could get. I absentmindedly put a check mark next to the first step while I read the second.
    Step 2: Be playful
    Now that you’ve