Chapter Nine

The next morning, Tess made her way reluctantly to Mason’s front door, unsure what to expect on the other side. She had spent the evening tossing and turning, imagining what the night might have held if she had given in to her impulse and gone to bed with him.

She was pretty sure she’d made the right decision by pushing him off.

Not entirely sure, but pretty sure.

Her body, however, was not sure at all. It was hot.

Unfulfilled.

And unsatisfied.

He met her at the door of his apartment carrying her usual cup of coffee. As he handed over the mug, he leaned forward, causing her heart to stop for a moment as she imagined he might kiss her. But before she could even react, he gave her a soft punch in the shoulder and said, “Good morning, friend!” before walking away with a jaunty whistle.

And that was the way things went for the rest of the week.

He was the perfect gentleman, making no move that could be interpreted as pushing the boundaries she’d established. Even when she might have wished for some hint, some brush of his hand or touch of his knee against hers, he neither said nor did anything she could complain about.

Nothing.

He called her buddy, not sweetheart.

He stopped smoldering her with his sexy stare. Now she felt like she was the one breaking their bargain every time she stared longingly at the firm line of his butt, or swallowed hard at a flash of his abs.

But he also didn’t give her any quarter in developing their friendship. He insisted they walk Wick and Astro together in the morning before he went to work. In a friendly way, of course. No touching. No inappropriate remarks. In the evenings, he went for a run and came back sweaty and gorgeous, then bought them fresh Vietnamese baguette sandwiches for dinner. They followed each of her midterms with a bottle of wine and fancy chocolate. He found a new business venture to invest in and took her to dinner to celebrate.

And that was worse than anything she could have imagined. Because she could push away his touch. There was nothing she could do about his friendship. She could reject a jerk, have no regrets about not kissing an asshole. But this guy? This friend, who was wrapped in the sexiest package she had ever seen? That was much harder to resist.

Especially now that she knew that he wanted her. Sometimes, when he left her in the kitchen to take his shower, she imagined joining him there, water sluicing over both their bodies, knowing he wouldn’t push her away. Just before she left at night, she pictured herself stopping him at the door and kissing him, their mouths and bodies meshing like they had in the kitchen.

He was killing her.

On Friday morning, Tess had just sent Mason off to work when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to see it was Erica, her boss at the vet clinic.

Erica’s soft Southern twang was rich with sorrow. “Hey Tessie, I don’t mean to bug you, but Mrs. Edelstar brought Snickers in last night and he doesn’t look good.”

“Oh no.” Tess grabbed her bag from the counter and started for the door. Snickers was a sweet eighteen-year-old tabby cat with a variety of health problems, including kidney disease. His owner was an equally sweet older woman who lived on her own, not far from Tess. “Anything new?”

“No, the poor guy is just really struggling. Not eating or drinking. Definitely in pain. Mrs. Edelstar is coming back later this morning. It’s time to let him go.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. This was, by far, the hardest part of working at the vet clinic. “What time?”

“Eleven.”

“I’ll be there.”

…

Tess managed to arrive at the clinic a few minutes before eleven. It was a small practice of three vets that had been in the neighborhood for decades. Tess had found herself there a couple of years after moving back from Phoenix because her grandmother fed and looked after a couple of old feral cats. Tess had always loved animals but had never been able to afford or take care of a pet of her own, so she’d taken on the task of caring for her grandmother’s cats with a fierce intensity. When one of them turned up hurt, she’d wrestled the cat into a cardboard box and taken it into the nearest clinic, even though she was already struggling to pay for her grandmother’s medications and keep the lights on in their falling-down house.

Erica was a tall black woman with short hair and a no-nonsense attitude. She had moved to California from North Carolina for vet school, and with her own mountain of loans had understood when Tess blanched at the size of the bill and asked if there was any kind of payment plan or student discount—or if there was any way she could work off the debt by cleaning or helping out in the clinic.

After just a few months of cleaning cages and sweeping floors, Tess had seen her future. The unconditional love and trust the animals placed in their owners had warmed the bits of her heart that remained frozen after years of neglect. Meanwhile, she’d found that she had a knack for dealing with even the most difficult animals. She’d started walking and training dogs soon after that and had been amazed to find that she could get paid for something she loved doing.

“Hey Tess, how you been?” Vincent, one of the clinic’s veteran employees, waved from the front desk. He had silvery-gray hair cut short and a trim build that belied his sixty-plus years. “Haven’t seen you for a while.”

Tess smiled, though her heart was heavy at the thought of what lay ahead. “I’m doing okay. How are you?”

“Tired,” he said, though there was a twinkle in his eye. “You need to come back. Erica misses you so much she keeps hanging out and bothering me so I can’t get any work done.”

“Oh please,” she said with a wave. “You love the attention. Is she in her office?”

He waved toward the back of the clinic, the smile falling away. “Yeah, she’s doing a little paperwork before Mrs. Edelstar comes in.”

She sighed. “It’s going to be a tough one.” Even though caring for sick and dying animals was a fact of life at the clinic, it was still hard, especially when the owner was an old friend.

Erica’s door was cracked open, so Tess knocked gently before entering. Her friend met her at the door with a hug. “Sorry to make you drive all this way,” she said.

“I couldn’t let Mrs. Edelstar go through it alone.”

Erica nodded and sat back down. “I figured you’d feel that way. She’ll appreciate having you there. How are things otherwise? How’s the dog sitting?”

Tess sank into a chair next to the desk. “Nice. Turns out being rich has its benefits.”

“Shocker.” Erica eyed her with a knowing look. “And how’s that cute new boss? You two hitting it off?”

“What do you mean?”

Erica gestured toward her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so…presentable.”

“Hey!” Tess protested. “I’m always presentable.”

“If I’m not mistaken, there’s mascara on those lashes. And a blow out? Have I ever seen your hair out of that ponytail?”

Tess didn’t have a response, so she just scowled down at her hands. “It’s not a big deal.”

“For someone else, definitely not. For you?” Erica studied her with the same thoughtful look she used to diagnose her patients. “You like this guy, don’t you?”

Just like the toughest dog melted under Erica’s touch, Tess felt her defenses slipping away. “Maybe, but you know I’m not really interested in dating. I’ve got too much going on.”

“Too much on the outside or the inside?”

“Stop animal whispering me,” Tess said. “You know it freaks me out when you do that.”

“Vets observe,” Erica replied with her usual aplomb. “It’s what we do. The animals don’t talk, so we find alternate ways to figure out information.”

Tess made a noncommittal sound. “Outside or inside, I am definitely not getting involved with Mason. Anyway, how’s Isaiah?”

Asking about Erica’s eighteen-month-old son was the one guaranteed way to get her off track. Her entire face softened. “He’s great. He learned a new word this week.” She beamed with pride. “Pee-pee.”

“Oh.” Tess nodded. “That is impressive.”

“It means peas,” Erica said. “You know, the green mushy ones.”

“Of course. That’s what I was thinking.”

“You should come by for dinner next week and witness it firsthand. It’s been forever since we’ve had you over.”

“I know. Mason works late a lot. Half the time I don’t get home till nine or ten. Thank goodness Moses and Gracie have been helping with Astro. And seriously, I do appreciate you letting me take this time off. I know it means extra work for everyone else.”

“It’s almost like people love you or something,” Erica said, with just a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Tess rolled her eyes. “Let’s not go too far.”

“Right.” Erica started to say something but was interrupted by Vincent at the doorway of her office.

“Mrs. Edelstar is here,” he said.

Tess and Erica rose at the same time, sharing a sad nod of resolution between them.

“I’ll get her.” Tess started for the waiting area. “She’ll need a hand.”

“We all do,” Erica said.

…

When Mason got back that night, Tess was sitting on the couch, blindly petting Wick as she stared out the window thinking about holding Mrs. Edelstar’s hand as she said goodbye to her dearest friend. He stood in the doorway and surveyed the scene. Wick settled his head deeper into her lap and huffed a greeting to Mason instead of moving.

“Hey,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Hey yourself,” he replied. He set down his briefcase at the door. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just a little tired. Long day.” She blinked rapidly and kept her gaze turned away, because somehow just the sound of his voice caused her throat to swell and moisture to fill her eyes. She kept her gaze firmly on Wick’s tawny back as he approached. “I thought maybe I’d head home a little early today.”

He lowered himself onto the couch next to her, on her other side from Wick. “Of course. Anything you want to talk about?”

She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “Nah. It’s no big deal.”

“If you say so.” He didn’t move, and neither did she. Some strange weight kept her pinned to the couch. The thought of leaving and being alone for the rest of the night left her feeling empty and bleak.

“Sometimes it helps to talk about things.”

She took a deep breath. “It’s stupid. Cycle of life and all that. I just wish it wasn’t part of the job, that’s all.”

“I see.” He reached over her lap to stroke the top of Wick’s head. “I’m sorry. Was this one of your clients?”

“No, a patient at the clinic. Her owner was friends with my grandma, so she always insisted I help with Snickers’ exams. She was pretty upset. She lost her husband a few years ago, and she’s all alone now.”

“That’s hard. Even if it is the cycle of life, that doesn’t make it any less hard.”

She nodded, and he quietly slid his arm over the back of the sofa. He didn’t touch her, but the invitation was there. Unable to resist, she found herself burrowing into him, letting her head fall on his chest. Gently, he lowered his arm to encircle her.

Erica’s voice whispered in her ears, and she wondered how Mason knew exactly what she needed. The feeling of him there, supporting and surrounding her, was more than she could withstand, and the tears started to fall.

He didn’t say anything, just held her against him.

She stayed like that for a long time.

…

On Saturday morning, Tess pulled everything she owned out of her dresser and spread it on the bed. It didn’t take long. There were jeans, a few more jeans, some T-shirts, some other T-shirts, and several well-worn sweatshirts.

Nothing that she could wear to a hipster bar in San Francisco without making a complete fool of herself.

She stared at the mess on her bed and nibbled her bottom lip. Not that she cared what Mason thought of her clothes, because he obviously knew by now that fashion wasn’t her strong suit, but she wasn’t looking forward to complete humiliation in front of his friends. She put on her skinniest jeans and a black tank top and grabbed a pair of gold hoop earrings from her underutilized jewelry box and tucked them into her pocket. She didn’t wear earrings normally—she simply couldn’t find a reason to bother—but she still had a few from the days when she used to care.

In a fit of pure desperation, she grabbed a pair of disposable contact lenses to put in later that night. She used to buy them regularly, but they’d been sacrificed on the altar of her cost-saving measures, and she’d replaced them last year with the cheapest pair of glasses she could order online.

Then she grabbed her jacket and the tube of mascara she’d bought last week.

It would have to do. After all, they were just friends, right?

Of course, it was the first time she’d be meeting all his other friends, including the legendary Zoe, who was apparently some kind of lawyer rock star, and probably gorgeous as well. She’d also been warned that Nate could be a little intimidating, and that Connor didn’t say much in a group.

So yeah, safe to say she was a little nervous about the whole endeavor.

Mason didn’t respond to her knock when she arrived, so she let herself in. “I’m here,” she called into the quiet apartment.

“Be out in a few,” Mason called back from his bedroom.

Wick greeted her by rubbing his massive head against her leg. She welcomed the distraction of his slimy kiss, rubbing him behind the ears and giving him a fond pat before heading the kitchen. He was doing so much better. Friday had been his last day on the steroids, and thanks to that, and his new diet, he was doing much better. She only took him out every four or five hours now, and he hadn’t lunged at another dog for days. Soon, he’d be ready to go down to one walk a day.

She tried not to think about that, because it meant that Mason wasn’t going to need her anymore, and that wasn’t something she wasn’t prepared to contemplate.

Mason came out from his bedroom a few minutes later, wearing a snug white T-shirt tucked into his gray work pants. “You didn’t forget we’re going out tonight, did you?”

“No.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and wished for the hundredth time that Mason could do something wrong. Like make bad coffee. Or leave the kitchen a mess in the morning. Or not comfort her when her heart was breaking and she needed a hug more than anything in the world.

But so far, he hadn’t done any of those things. Damn it.

“Good. We’re headed to the Aspen, meeting Zoe and the guys there at eight.”

Her stomach fell into her shoes. The Aspen was one of the hottest new restaurant-bars in San Francisco, a ridiculously upscale place she’d only heard of because it had been featured in one of the news clips she’d read about Mason. One of his friends owned the place, or was a chef there or something, and Mason had been there to celebrate the grand opening. With a gorgeous woman on his arm, naturally.

The Aspen. Good grief. A drink there probably cost thirty bucks, and she was pretty sure no one else would be wearing surplus army boots or carrying a five-dollar used messenger bag. She had known whatever bar he picked would be out of her league, but she hadn’t thought it would be quite this much out of her league.

She had to say something, so she forced out the words. “Great. Can’t wait to have a fun night out with all my new friends.”

“You’re not planning to back out on me, are you?”

“No way.”

“Good.” He pushed off the counter and disappeared back into his bedroom, only to emerge a few minutes later wearing a white button-down over his T-shirt and tying a striped silk tie, looking like the perfectly gorgeous, rich bastard he was.

“Why are you all dressed up?” she asked.

He waved a dismissive hand. “Nate set up a thing. Some of his real estate people wanted to meet.”

“On a Saturday?”

“My life is very hard,” he said sadly.

She snorted and waved toward the door. “Right. It’s awful. I can barely speak over my tears of sympathy. Now go before I lose control completely and start sobbing all over you.”

Unrepentant, he grabbed his leather briefcase and gym bag from beside the door and waved. “See you soon—and be ready to have fun tonight!”

Once he was gone she collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs. Wick rubbed against her, and she petted him dutifully. “He’s going to be the death of me.”

The dog rested his head on her knee, gazing at her with adoring eyes.

“No, I’m not thinking about him that way,” she said, reading the question he was too much of a gentleman to articulate. “Not anymore. We’re just friends, remember? Okay, fine. Maybe I think of him that way every now and then. I mean, I’m human, right? But you and I both know sleeping with him would be a terrible idea. The most I’d get from him would be a one-night stand and an awkward morning after.”

And what exactly would be so bad about that?

“Because I like him,” she said quietly, not even wanting to admit it to Wick. “I like him more every day. And I’ve never been good at one-night stands.”

I get it. I like him, too. Wick leaned his heavy head into her hand in sympathy.

“Anyway, it will be good for him not to get what he wants.” She wondered if Mason had ever not gotten what he’d wanted. Probably not. “And judging from the way he kisses, he’s probably not even good in bed.”

Ha. That statement was so patently absurd she could barely even say it with a straight face. Judging from his kisses, he could give her an orgasm before they’d even hit third base.

But whatever, honesty was definitely not called for right now.

Grimly, she pulled out her phone and Googled the Aspen, just to see if maybe she was remembering wrong, and it was actually a quiet, casual spot that served Miller Lite and nachos.

Nope.

For all her tough talk about not dressing up, or being feminine, she was not going to be embarrassed in front of his friends.

She needed reinforcements.

When she glanced at her calendar she almost fell off the chair with relief. Cece had returned the night before from France. Thank God.

She knew Cece would buy her a new outfit a hundred times over. Hell, she’d probably rebuild her house and buy her a new car, too. But Tess had made a habit of refusing every offer of money Cece had ever made. She knew she was the only person Cece could count on to love her for reasons that had nothing to do with money, and she wasn’t going to introduce even a hint of doubt about that into their relationship.

But she wasn’t above borrowing something. Tonight, she didn’t want to look like she didn’t belong. She wanted to knock Mason’s socks off.

And for that, she needed Cece’s help. And her closet.

…

They met at Cece’s place on Nob Hill. Tess filled her in on her time with Mason while Cece surveyed her expansive closet for something for Tess to wear.

“So let me get this straight,” she mused, pushing aside hangers and occasionally glancing at Tess, who was lying on Cece’s bed and staring at the ceiling. “Mason Coleman is basically sex on legs, he made out with you on a counter and practically begged for more, and as a result you put him in the friend zone, where he has been patiently waiting ever since.”

“Yep.”

Cece cocked her head curiously. “So help me out here. Why exactly are you pushing him away?”

“Because I don’t want to be a notch in the belt of the Michael Phelps of one-night stands.”

“Are you sure about that? I’ve met him, you know. He probably wouldn’t remember—it was at some charity thing. But the guy is smoking. I wouldn’t mind being a notch in his belt.”

“Of course you would. Forty bucks says he asked you out when you met him and you turned him down.”

Cece, who had her hair in a loose knot on top of her head, pinkened. She’d just come home from the gym and wore a pair of black capris and a sports bra that showed every inch of her model-thin body. “No comment.”

Tess hooted. “I knew it! You’re buying one of my drinks tonight.”

“Nothing against him. He just isn’t my type.” Cece pulled a tiny black halter dress from the closet and threw it at Tess. “Try this on.”

Tess obligingly sat up and pulled off her shirt. “Nobody is your type. You haven’t dated anyone since…” She dropped off, not wanting to violate the code of silence that existed around Cece’s worst mistake—the one and only time she’d fallen hard for a guy and had it go spectacularly wrong.

Cece ignored the comment. She surveyed a leaf-green, strappy dress that probably cost a thousand dollars and dropped it on the bed beside the black one. “Honestly, I met him for about thirty seconds.”

“And he managed to ask you out in that time.” Tess sighed. “What a letch.”

Cece tapped a thoughtful finger on her chin. “Actually, I thought he seemed like a nice guy who also happened to be painfully attractive.”

“You’ve got the painful part right,” Tess muttered.

“And perhaps slightly too aware of his effect on the ladies,” Cece continued.

“Exactly!” Tess wriggled into the black dress. “That’s exactly my point. I think he’s only going through with this friends thing because he’s absolutely sure I’m going to fall into bed with him in the end. So I can’t give him the satisfaction, you know?” She frowned as she stared at herself in the mirrored closet door. “It is just me or does this look like crap?”

Cece assessed her critically. “Of course it looks bad. You have to take off your pants. And your bra.”

“Oh. Right.”

“You really need to get out more.”

“Look who’s talking!” Tess sat down on the bed and extracted herself from her jeans and bra. “I bet you didn’t even smile at any sexy Frenchmen while you were in Paris.”

“You’re right. That’s why Mason isn’t my type. I’m a crotchety old woman in a twenty-six-year-old body. I also don’t particularly like sex, and I get the feeling Mason does.”

“That’s because you had shitty partners,” Tess said, adjusting the dress around her hips. “And I’m a crotchety old woman, too.”

“No, you aren’t,” Cece contradicted, pulling a silky mini dress from the closet and setting it on the bed. “You should be, after what your mom and that awful biker guy put you through, but under all those horrible clothes you’re basically still a really sweet, caring, trusting person who deserves to fall in love.”

Tess shuddered at the memory of the motorcycle-riding asshole with a fondness for cheap beer and corn dogs. “And that means I should fall in love with Mason Coleman?”

Cece looked aghast. “Goodness no. That would be a disaster. But I have to say, I’ve been trying to get you to go out on a Saturday night for ages, and I’ve failed miserably every time. Now he comes along and we’re dressing you for the Aspen? Maybe there’s more to him than I imagined.”

“He’s my boss. I’m not going out with my boss.”

“This is a short-term gig, right? Just until his sister takes the dog back?”

Tess nodded. “I give it maybe two more weeks, tops.”

“Can you go out with him then?”

“I think that could be a very bad idea,” Tess said, picking at the hem of the dress.

Cece studied her. “Ah. I see.” Her cornflower-blue eyes softened. “But remember, you don’t get the big rewards unless you take a the big risks.”

“Spoken like a true hedge fund manager.”

Cece shrugged. “If the shoe fits…” She surveyed Tess’s form in the black dress. “By the way, you have no idea how hot you are. Mason is in huge trouble. But we need something that shows off your figure. That black one suits me better than you.”

“Because you’re skinny.”

“Because I’m flat.”

Cece had managed to internalize her mother’s endless criticism of her appearance, despite her thick golden hair, slim figure, and the sort of eyes that made one think of wildflowers and Texas meadows. She had a constant level of self-awareness that came from years of dance and excessive time spent in front of mirrors—her mother’s choice, not hers—and when she was stressed or busy, she tended to lose weight. After weeks on the road, she was far too thin for Tess’s tastes.

“Try the green one.”

Tess wiggled out of the black dress and grabbed the green. Instead of a traditional neckline, the top was held up by a slender gold ring that fit loosely around her neck and clasped in back. The bodice—what there was of it—gathered around the ring in the hollow at the base of her neck and then barely covered her breasts before being caught at the waist. It was completely backless, and the snug skirt clung to her thighs like it had been made for her.

“This can’t fit you,” she said suspiciously. Cece had been known to buy clothing a size or two bigger than she needed, just so Tess could borrow it.

Cece waved a hand dismissively. “Ordered it from some boutique online. You know how their sizes all vary.”

Tess glanced in the mirror and felt a warm glow start somewhere around her belly. The green dress emphasized her curves in all the right places, leaving her looking curvy and sultry, with an hourglass figure and long legs.

“Heels?” she asked, knowing what the answer would be.

“Are you kidding?” Cece extracted a pair of impossibly high silver stilettos from her closet. Tess put them on, tried to stand, and promptly fell down.

“Maybe not these heels,” Tess said grimly, pushing herself back to standing. “Your foot is a size smaller than mine, just like everything else about you. You got any army boots in there?”

Cece snorted. “Right.” She tapped her lips thoughtfully, then went back to her shoe closet and pulled out a pair of suede wedge heels that wound around the ankle in a gladiator style and hugged the foot in web of leather and laces. “They’re deceptively sturdy,” she said.

Tess slipped them on. They pinched, but nothing like the stilettos, and Cece was right about them being more walkable than they looked.

“Okay fairy godmother, am I ready for the ball?” She spun around in a circle, almost lost her balance, and caught herself on the edge of a dresser.

Cece sighed. “As ready as you’ll ever be.” She grabbed a cropped leather jacket from the closet and a gold clutch. “Be home by midnight or I’ll turn you into a pumpkin.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“I’m rich as hell,” Cece proclaimed. “I can make it happen if I want.”

Tess walked the length of the bed a few times. “You should come with me,” she said, falling gracelessly back onto the bed once she was certain she could carry off the shoes. She was getting more nervous by the moment. What would she do with Mason and a bunch of his closest friends at a trendy bar? She’d be hopelessly out of her league before she even walked through the door.

“No way. I’m still jetlagged.”

“You’re not jetlagged, you’re anti-social.”

“Look who’s talking,” Cece countered. A smile ghosted her perfect lips. “You just want me to run interference for you.”

“Is that wrong?” She pulled a pillow over her face and spoke through it. “Maybe I shouldn’t go. I could just bail.”

Cece leaned over and pulled the pillow away. “Why in the world would you do that?”

Tess sat up and pushed her hair back out of her eyes. “Look at me. I’m a mess. These people are like you. They’re perfect and smart. I’m a high school dropout. I can’t hang out with them!” She fell back into the pillows dramatically. “It’s no use. I’m staying right here. You’ll have to go for me.”

“Am I going to have to slap you?” Cece bent over her again. “Because the next time you insult my best friend, I totally will. You got a bad deal in high school, and it took an incredible amount of courage to fight your way back out. But that’s in the past. It’s part of who you are, but that doesn’t mean it defines you.”

“What if they make fun of me?” Tess knew she sounded ridiculous, but her inner adolescent had taken over and all she could think of was how she’d spent most of her teenage years trying to prove she was just as much of a loser as her mother, and how hard it had been to reinvent herself as someone who mattered. “I don’t think I can handle that. Not in front of Mason.”

“They won’t make fun of you.”

“They might.”

“They won’t. What kind of awful person would your Mason have to be to take you somewhere that people would make fun of you?”

“He’s not my Mason.”

“But you want him to be.”

“Stop it!” Tess put her hands over her ears. “You should date him, not me!” She pasted a hopeful smile on her face. “In fact, that’s exactly what we should do. You come with me and distract Mason with your gorgeousness, and I’ll hide behind you. It will be just like those parties you took me to in high school. You remember, the ones where I hid in your car so no one would ask where the poor, trashy white girl came from?”

“This isn’t high school, and I’m not going to date him.” Cece put her hands on her hips, eyes narrow. “And stop talking about yourself that way.”

Tess bit her lip. Having Mason turn his attention to Cece would have solved a lot of problems. Though, now that she thought of it, the image of Mason kissing her best friend didn’t sit quite right.

Not that she was jealous.

“He’s bringing like five people,” she grumbled. “Why shouldn’t I bring someone? And aren’t you my best friend? I think this is a required-duty friend thing.”

“Hmm.” Cece narrowed her gaze, and Tess squirmed under the force of that brilliant, scheming mind. “Tell you what. I’ll go with you tonight if you answer these questions.”

Tess groaned. “I don’t like the direction this is heading.”

“Just trust me. Now, you said yourself you feel like you’re actually becoming friends, right?”

Tess nodded reluctantly. “I suppose so.”

“And he’s kept his end of your bargain, right?”

“Yes.”

“And…?”

“And…I guess he’s been pretty great about the whole thing,” she admitted. “The way he was there for me after Snickers died…and sometimes I think I’m one of the only people who gets to see the real him. The one he only lets out when he’s tired. I think when he’s with me he doesn’t feel like he has to put on a show.”

“So you’ve spent a ton of time with him, he’s turned into a legitimate friend, and he’s kept his hands off you at your request.” Cece tapped her bottom lip as if thinking deeply. “Now, remind me what your end of the bargain was?”

Tess rolled her eyes. “You’re awful.”

“Remind me.”

“He said I’ve got to go out. Be social. Have fun.”

“What a monster.” A tiny smile creased Cece’s face. “I can definitely see why you wouldn’t want to date him.”

“You’re the worst,” Tess muttered. “And we’re not going on a date.”

Her friend sighed and pulled Tess to stand in front of the mirror. “Look at that girl. Don’t you think she deserves a night out on the town? Maybe even a night with a hot guy? Or, God help us all, some sexy times, if the moment is right?”

Tess stared at herself in the mirror, seeing an almost elegant stranger staring back at her.

Why not have a little fun? a voice in her head said finally. It’s not like you aren’t going into this knowing exactly what to expect. Just don’t be stupid and get attached to him.

How hard could that be?