I’m with could be for keeps, and a sexy-as-hell DJ who can’t keep it in his pants isn’t going to cut it. He’s the perfect fantasy, but not a real option for my future.
Pete—and shockingly, Jack—didn’t find any romantic prospects tonight either. We’ll all be going home together tonight…not that I’d be bringing anyone back to Pete’s if I had found someone I wanted to get physical with. There’s tacky and there’s tacky —and banging someone on your best friend’s couch is definitely crossing the line. Even if it’s his insanely sexy brother. Maybe especially if it’s his insanely hot brother.
Another reason I’ll be glad to get back into my own place.
Not that we’ll be… Damn it.
Chapter 7
Moving is the worst. My one consolation is that I’m almost in my own place again. That, and the sight of Jack’s muscular arms exposed in a sleeveless T-shirt.
Thou shalt not look.
“Hey, princess. Grab another box.” Pete jams a box into my front, and my breath leaves me in an oof .
“Thanks, Pete.” I walk the box down the hall to my apartment, number nineteen. The landlord gave us the key, so we loaded the ancient elevator with my stuff, then locked it on my floor to unload. So far, it seems to be going quicker this way than other moves. Then again, my last apartment didn’t have an elevator, so carrying everything up three flights of stairs was brutal.
We’ve made great time, but my shoulders are still burning—more from all the laundry I did at work on Friday than from the actual moving, I think. Pete and Jack have done the heavy lifting, sparing me the worst, but I’ve done as much as I can.
A tinny, poor-quality version of a dance mix stains the air. Pete sets down the two garbage bags he’s carrying and answers his cell, obliviously blocking the narrow hall. “Ahoy-hoy.”
Unfortunately, he’s in front, so Jack and I also have to set our stuff down and wait while Pete gabs.
“No way. No way! Ugh, total nightmare. Uh-huh. Ten minutes. Bye.”
“Who was that?” I wait for Pete to grab his bags.
He turns to me. “Don’t hate me forever, but we’ve got a situation at the salon. It’s a pubic hair emergency, and they’ve specifically asked for me. It’s a high-profile client, and this could totally make my career.”
“Oh. Well, we’ve gotten everything into the elevator. I guess Jack and I could handle the rest of it. Right, Jack?” I glance over my shoulder at him.
“Yup. Shouldn’t take too long. If you’re really going to the salon.”
Pete rolls his eyes. “Of course I am.”
Jack continues. “I know all about those prescheduled scams for getting out of dates. You have a friend schedule a phone call so you can bail out of a crappy date.”
I laugh. “I think there’s an app for that.”
“I’m not skipping out on this. But they’re paying me double, and it’s a very sensitive situation. I can’t even tell you the client’s name, but trust me—you’d squeal if you knew!” He grabs my shoulders. “You’re sure?”
So dramatic. “Yes, go.”
“I owe you a dinner.” He air-kisses my cheeks.
I’ll take it. “Later this week?”
“Done.”
Jack sighs. “I’ll ride the elevator down with you with the key. Let’s get these boxes out of the elevator before we go, so Sarah can keep working.”
I point at him. “No dawdling on the way back!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He winks.
I grab a tub and carry it inside my apartment so he won’t see my blush.
In the five minutes Jack’s gone, I manage to drag the remaining boxes and bags from the hallway into my apartment. Moving in the summer is particularly awful. A thin sheen of sweat has formed on my body, and I peel off my T-shirt, tossing it away, and pull the bottom of my tank top up and down, fanning my torso.
“No air-conditioning?” Jack’s voice startles me, and I jump, dropping my shirt.
“No. I’ll have to look at getting a unit in.”
“Do you like big
Pete—and shockingly, Jack—didn’t find any romantic prospects tonight either. We’ll all be going home together tonight…not that I’d be bringing anyone back to Pete’s if I had found someone I wanted to get physical with. There’s tacky and there’s tacky —and banging someone on your best friend’s couch is definitely crossing the line. Even if it’s his insanely sexy brother. Maybe especially if it’s his insanely hot brother.
Another reason I’ll be glad to get back into my own place.
Not that we’ll be… Damn it.
Chapter 7
Moving is the worst. My one consolation is that I’m almost in my own place again. That, and the sight of Jack’s muscular arms exposed in a sleeveless T-shirt.
Thou shalt not look.
“Hey, princess. Grab another box.” Pete jams a box into my front, and my breath leaves me in an oof .
“Thanks, Pete.” I walk the box down the hall to my apartment, number nineteen. The landlord gave us the key, so we loaded the ancient elevator with my stuff, then locked it on my floor to unload. So far, it seems to be going quicker this way than other moves. Then again, my last apartment didn’t have an elevator, so carrying everything up three flights of stairs was brutal.
We’ve made great time, but my shoulders are still burning—more from all the laundry I did at work on Friday than from the actual moving, I think. Pete and Jack have done the heavy lifting, sparing me the worst, but I’ve done as much as I can.
A tinny, poor-quality version of a dance mix stains the air. Pete sets down the two garbage bags he’s carrying and answers his cell, obliviously blocking the narrow hall. “Ahoy-hoy.”
Unfortunately, he’s in front, so Jack and I also have to set our stuff down and wait while Pete gabs.
“No way. No way! Ugh, total nightmare. Uh-huh. Ten minutes. Bye.”
“Who was that?” I wait for Pete to grab his bags.
He turns to me. “Don’t hate me forever, but we’ve got a situation at the salon. It’s a pubic hair emergency, and they’ve specifically asked for me. It’s a high-profile client, and this could totally make my career.”
“Oh. Well, we’ve gotten everything into the elevator. I guess Jack and I could handle the rest of it. Right, Jack?” I glance over my shoulder at him.
“Yup. Shouldn’t take too long. If you’re really going to the salon.”
Pete rolls his eyes. “Of course I am.”
Jack continues. “I know all about those prescheduled scams for getting out of dates. You have a friend schedule a phone call so you can bail out of a crappy date.”
I laugh. “I think there’s an app for that.”
“I’m not skipping out on this. But they’re paying me double, and it’s a very sensitive situation. I can’t even tell you the client’s name, but trust me—you’d squeal if you knew!” He grabs my shoulders. “You’re sure?”
So dramatic. “Yes, go.”
“I owe you a dinner.” He air-kisses my cheeks.
I’ll take it. “Later this week?”
“Done.”
Jack sighs. “I’ll ride the elevator down with you with the key. Let’s get these boxes out of the elevator before we go, so Sarah can keep working.”
I point at him. “No dawdling on the way back!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He winks.
I grab a tub and carry it inside my apartment so he won’t see my blush.
In the five minutes Jack’s gone, I manage to drag the remaining boxes and bags from the hallway into my apartment. Moving in the summer is particularly awful. A thin sheen of sweat has formed on my body, and I peel off my T-shirt, tossing it away, and pull the bottom of my tank top up and down, fanning my torso.
“No air-conditioning?” Jack’s voice startles me, and I jump, dropping my shirt.
“No. I’ll have to look at getting a unit in.”
“Do you like big