Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
But before I can ask him if he’s sure that he’s getting enough vitamin D, Spence spots Jack down the hall, and his blue eyes sparkle to life. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus,” he murmurs. “Who is that?”
“Thank you.” I take the glue. “That’s my boss. And my brother’s oldest friend. And my friend. Sort of. Sometimes.” I sigh. “It’s complicated.”
“Sounds like it.” Spencer’s blond brows wiggle. “So that’s the boss man. How have we not heard more about this Tall Drink of Delicious Complications?”
“She’s been holding out on us.” Sonia nods, her lips puckering judgmentally.
“Don’t be crazy.” I back away, refusing to tell either of these lovable gossip hounds anything about Jack. “Catch you two later.”
“Later, Ellie,” they singsong in a way that makes my cheeks flush pink, ensuring I’m more flustered than usual by the time I reach where Jack is leaning against the wall by the fake potted fern.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” he asks, his voice cool.
“They just woke up,” I say, continuing down the hall. “And I figured you’d want to get right to work, correct? Since I’m so desperately in need of assistance?”
Jack crosses his arms, standing way too close as I work my key into my lock.
Damn it, why does he have to smell so good? And be so warm and magnetic and tingle-inducing?
“Interesting tone.” He follows me inside, glancing around my much-cleaner-than-usual apartment with an arched brow. His eyes widen when he spots my bed against the far wall—hard to hide it when you live in a studio—but thankfully he doesn’t comment. “You don’t think you need help?”
“I don’t.” I toss the glue onto the coffee table beside my mustache and do-it-myself dude makeup. “I just needed fresh glue, and Spencer brought me some from his costume shop. So I’m all set.”
Jack snorts. “Set to blow your cover before you even get started. If you hadn’t spent half of yesterday watching orientation videos, you would’ve been made. The way you walk alone is—”
“So maybe my walk isn’t super masculine,” I cut in, propping my hands on my hips. “Not all men are, you know. There are plenty of guys in New York who have a little swing in their step.”
“You don’t walk like a man with a swing in his step,” Jack says flatly. “You walk like someone who’s never had a dick between your legs. There’s a difference.”
Heat floods to my face, but before I can think of an appropriate response to that bombshell, Jack waves a hand in the air between us.
“I didn’t mean it like that…” He shakes his head, wincing as if the thought of me with a dick between my legs makes him queasy. “I meant, you walk like a woman who has woman parts, and eventually people are going to notice. Bare minimum, that needs to be addressed before Monday.”
I cross my arms, wishing I’d changed out of my yoga pants and comfy tee into something that made me feel less scrubby and powerless. Ryan’s right—clothes are more important than I give them credit for.
So maybe Jack is right, too…
No matter how much I would like to believe I didn’t make an idiot of myself yesterday, Jack has the same sharp eye as my brother. And even if he’s wrong, advice from someone who has been an actual man his entire life can’t hurt. Besides, he has skin in this game, too. The least I can do is play along.
“Fine,” I grumble, my shoulders hunching. “Teach me how to walk.”
Jack exhales. “I’ll try, but not while you look like that.”
“Like what? Like I woke up half an hour ago? Sorry, but that’s not my fault. That’s your fault for inviting yourself over at a ridiculously early hour for a Saturday.”
“I was thinking like a crab refusing to come out of her shell,” Jack says, his tone cooling again. “But please accept my apologies for the early hour. I assume your hot date went well, then?”
I bite my lip, eyes lifting guiltily to the ceiling, wishing I hadn’t let that fib out the door. “You could say that.”
“So, who is he?” Jack moves closer, hands sliding into his pockets in that too-relaxed way that always makes me nervous.
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t.” He’s so close now that I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact, a fact that has my pulse jumping. “But you’re struggling to pull this off as it is, without some random guy keeping you out all night.”
“It wasn’t a guy,” I confess. “I went out with Lulu, Paige, and a couple other girls from the office for Korean food and karaoke.”
For a second Jack looks almost relieved, but then his forehead bunches again. “Tell me you didn’t sing.”
I roll my eyes hard. “I’m not a hundred percent solid on my man voice when I’m talking. I know better than to belt out Blaze of Glory.”