The Play Mate (Roommates, #2)

Evie

Back at work on Monday, I was feeling positive. I’d set up my dating profile and already had an in-box full of potential new suitors. Not that I was interested in any of them. But just having them there-just knowing that option was on the table-gave me a little boost to my step.

“Hey, sis.”

“Hi, guys.” I slid into my seat between them, opened my laptop, and kept my eyes on the screen as it loaded, knowing if I looked at Smith, my positive mood would die a quick death.

“Morning, Everleigh.” Smith’s rich voice rolled over every syllable in my name and washed over me like a wave.

Tempted, I sneaked a look at the man next to me. Dressed in a white dress shirt and a navy tie, he looked deliciously preppy, like he could grace the cover of a men’s clothing catalog. The dark stubble dusting his square jaw only added to the appeal. His gaze moved over me, a question in his expression that I couldn’t quite read.

Are you okay? it seemed to say.

No, that wasn’t it.

Are we okay?

Meeting his eyes with their flecks of gold and green and amber, I gave him a quick nod. Even if things were weird as hell right now, this was still Smith. Of course we’d be okay. We had to be.

My brother spoke, interrupting the intense eye contact Smith and I were sharing. “I have a call with the manufacturer this morning. Depending on what they say about their capacity, it could change some of the fourth-quarter plans we’ve made. I’ll keep you both posted.”

“Sounds good, buddy,” Smith said.

I opened my e-mail and saw a response from the consultant I’d been in touch with about helping increase our social engagement. I was typing out a response when Cullen answered his cell and rose to his feet. He wondered toward the wall of windows, pacing as he spoke.

Smith turned to face me. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Of course.”

“About . . . things.”

My gaze wondered over toward my brother. He was absorbed in his conversation, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t overhear what was sure to be a rather personal conversation.

“Not here,” I whispered.

“Have lunch with me today.”

My gaze left his and wandered back to my screen. I wasn’t so sure that was a good idea, and Smith seemed to read my mind.

“You owe me at least a conversation, don’t you think?”

“Fine.” I took a deep breath, already anticipating that the hours until lunch would now drag by at a snail’s pace.

My brother conveniently took off for the gym just before noon, meaning Smith and I wouldn’t have to sneak out to lunch together. For that, I was relieved.

Fifteen minutes later, Smith pulled out my chair and waited until I sat down in front of the sushi bar before lowering his tall frame into the seat beside me. After we placed an order for iced tea and three types of sushi rolls, Smith turned to face me.

“Thanks for joining me. I think we need to discuss this like two rational adults.”

I lifted the bamboo chopsticks from their resting place beside my plate and shook my head. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

“Let’s agree to disagree.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping lower. “There was a reason you climbed into my bed that night, and I’d like to know what that reason was.”

I glanced at the businessmen seated beside us. Could we have picked a less private spot to have this conversation? All the tables had already been taken at the popular Japanese restaurant Smith had chosen, leaving us to wedge ourselves in at the last two open seats at the sushi bar.

“I’m not discussing this in public,” I all but hissed.

Smith inhaled through his nostrils, his posture tensing. “Fine. My place, tonight. We’ll have dinner and figure out where to go from here.”

“I’m busy tonight,” I lied.

“Tomorrow then.”

I shook my head. “I’m busy all week.”

I wasn’t, but I would find something to do. Between Maggie and the gym, I’d invent reasons to stay far, far away from Smith’s apartment.

“Perfect. Friday night, then.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why are you doing this? You want to be my white knight, rescue me from the memory of that horrible night?”

“I never said it was horrible.”

Hope bloomed in my chest, but before I could respond, the server delivered a platter with rolls of spicy tuna, eel, and cucumber rolls.

“We’ll figure everything out this Friday,” Smith added. “Now, dig in. I know how crabby you get when you’re hungry.”

He shot me a smile, and for the first time since all this started, I felt at ease.

• • •

“Tell me this is a terrible idea,” I begged Maggie before taking a sip of chardonnay.

I’d weighed the pros and cons all week, and now it was Thursday night, meaning that I was out of time. Tomorrow I’d be expected to spend the evening with Smith. Unless my best friend could help me figure a way out of this.

“Meh.” She lifted one shoulder, munching on a pretzel as we sat at the breakfast bar at my apartment.

While it was true I’d wanted to be intimate with Smith for my real first time, now I wasn’t so sure.

“What exactly did he say again?” Maggie asked.

I waved a hand at her. “Let’s talk about something else. Literally anything else,” I begged.

“Fine.” She grabbed another handful of pretzels, picking the chunks of crystallized salt off each one with her fingernail. “Sam and I are going to try that new nightclub tomorrow. I might need to raid your closet later.”

I had to share Maggie with Sam, the male counterpart to me. He and I often joked that we had joint custody of her. They’d grown up as best friends, and despite him having a penis, they’d never drifted apart or let things get awkward between them, even when they both started dating other people.

“You’re welcome to anything in my closet. You know that.” My clothes were tame compared to hers.

“The place is pretty risqué, so I was actually thinking maybe just a bustier and a miniskirt. Or would that be too skanky?”

I pursed my lips. I wouldn’t have the balls to pull it off, but hey, if Maggie was brave enough to venture out in little more than her underwear, more power to her.

“Actually, our new Lovely Lace collection has a really pretty bustier,” I said. “That might be perfect.”

I wasn’t brave enough to wear something like that, or maybe it was just that I didn’t have a man to wear it for. And the naive hope that Smith would be the man to change all that had all but died inside me.