Somewhere along the line, those feelings had clearly changed on her part. And now I realized they’d been changing on mine as well.

But at the core of it, as uncomfortable as the past couple of weeks had been, working with them day to day and spending time with Evie felt . . . right.

So, for the time being, I was going to roll with it. Not question my every move, not wonder how it could all crash and burn. I was going to enjoy Evie’s company, and take things from there.

And you’re sure we can’t fuck her? my cock asked with a wiggle behind my zipper.

“I’m sure,” I muttered under my breath.

• • •

An hour later, my house smelled like Emeril Lagasse had stopped by, and I was fucking stoked. The scent of roasting meat and caramelized onions and garlic filled the air, making my mouth water. I couldn’t wait for Evie to try it. Hell, I couldn’t wait for her to walk through the door, to see her face, to talk and laugh and drink with her. I didn’t realize how much I missed having someone else around this place until now.

With a jolt, I wondered if this weird feeling I’d been having might just be sheer loneliness. I’d settled into an easy, no-risk routine of sex for the sake of it, and some casual dates. All the while, I’d avoided addressing this vague sense of dissatisfaction that never really left. Whenever I saw a new movie trailer or had some great news about work, there was no one to tell. And damned if it hadn’t been weighing on me.

Until now. Because right now, I couldn’t wait to spend my evening talking to Evie about all those things.

I shot a quick glance at the clock and realized she’d be here soon. I was just about to start on the salad when my cell phone buzzed.

CULLEN: Wanna go out for a couple beers?

I stared at the screen for a long moment, my gut tightening a little.

Shit, Cullen. He’d asked me before I left work what I was doing this weekend, and I’d already said I was keeping it low key. He’d been elbow deep in new ad concepts and told me he planned to stay until he was done, so it never occurred to me that he’d get in touch tonight to hang out.

I paused with my thumb hovering over the keys as I tried to craft a response. I didn’t want to lie. It was already giving me heartburn having to even lie by omission. Bullshitting him straight up would kill me.

I tapped out five different replies before I finally hit SEND.

SMITH: Can’t, man. Put together some last-minute dinner plans.

Vague. True. It checked all the boxes, and hopefully that would be the end of—

CULLEN: Nice! Do I know her? And if not, will I get to meet her? Been a while since you brought a girl home.

Fuck.

A direct question. No . . . two direct questions, neither of which I could answer without dragging this on and on until I just told him the truth.

Not an option.

My mood soured instantly as all the anticipation I’d been feeling about seeing Evie cooled under the guilt of having to lie to my best friend and her brother.

SMITH: She’s an old friend who recently reconnected. Beers, maybe Sunday?

I silenced my phone and tossed it on the kitchen table with a clatter, feeling as crummy as the gum stuck on the bottom of a shoe.

Some friend I was. One second, mentally waxing poetic about the bond Cullen and I had and how great of a guy he was, and the next, lying through my teeth about his sister.

I turned my attention back to the salad, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about it anymore. Before, I’d been so proud of the meal and psyched to share it with Evie. Now I had this black cloud hanging over my head, and no way to shake it. As rosy as I’d been painting this picture not five minutes before, the fact was, we were sneaking around. Being deceptive and shady, and all the things I despised in a person.

I snatched up my phone, ignoring the response from Cullen as I tapped out a message to Evie. No matter what I did at this point, I was going to feel like shit, and having Evie over would only be miserable for us both. Better to cancel this now before we went any further with things.

I held the phone in my hand, dread tightening my chest. When the screen lit up again, I read Evie’s reply and let out a groan.

EVIE: Who cancels three minutes before a date? I’m literally outside your apartment building, asshole.

Who, indeed?

I stiffened my jaw and thumbed out a quick reply.

SMITH: Sorry. Come on up.

So I’d fucked up. Again. I’d get through tonight with Evie, make some excuse about thinking I needed stitches from my mirepoix injuries, and she would be fine.

Then tomorrow, things needed to go back to normal with her, because betraying a friend wasn’t how I wanted to live my life.

But I couldn’t quiet that annoying little voice inside my head that whispered, Easier said than done.

Chapter Eleven

This was not a date.

I pulled a deep breath into my lungs, refusing to let my lower lip tremble like it wanted to. I shouldn’t be sad. I should be angry. And I was. But I was also confused. And hurt.

Smith was standing in the open doorway, a scowl painted on his features as he towered over me. His fingertips curled around the top of the doorframe above his head, and his T-shirt crept up an inch, flashing me a sliver of taut, muscled skin at his waistband.

“Hey,” he said on a heavy exhale after several moments of silence.

He hadn’t invited me in. Just stood there, watching me like he wasn’t sure what to do with me.

“If my being here is an issue, I have no problem turning my ass around and going home.” I had a pint of salted-caramel ice cream in my freezer, and the series I’d been bingeing on lately had just released a new season. “You asked me to come, remember?”