Mr. Masters (Mr. 1)

Honestly, this is next level perving. I wish I could take a photo for Emerson. She wouldn’t believe what I’m seeing right here.

That’s if I could frigging tell Emerson. Ugh.

Julian turns toward me and my eyes drop to his broad chest and the scattering of dark hair that dusts it. I can see every muscle in his stomach.

Drop the towel, drop the towel, drop the towel.

“… need from me,” he finishes.

“Huh?” Shit. I forgot he was talking, and my eyes snap up to meet his. “Sorry. What did you say?”

He smiles a knowing smile. Damn it. I totally just got busted drooling over him. “I said… Is that all you need from me?”

“Erm.” My eyes drop down to his crotch, and then back up to his face. “That’s all I need from you, sir.”

He chuckles as he washes the razor under the hot water, his eyes ablaze with naughtiness.

Something’s different about him today. What is it?

“You seem to be especially mischievous today, Mr. Masters?” I smirk.

He smiles as he continues to shave. “Perhaps it’s the company I’m keeping.”

I smile as I walk out of the room. “You’d better concentrate or you’ll cut your pretty face.”

“It’s handsome, not pretty,” he calls after me, and I smile to myself as I walk down the stairs.

He’s certainly right a

bout that one.

I’m fuming. A big, bubbling cauldron of anger is about to blow over within me.

This serves me right. I knew something like this was about to happen, and now I can’t even tell Emerson what’s really going on.

“Why are we here again?” Emerson asks.

I narrow my eyes as I look at the restaurant across the road from us. “We’re

spying,” I mutter quietly.

Hank looks over as he licks his ice cream. “On who?”

It’s 9:30 p.m. and I’m in an ice cream shop with Emerson and Hank—Emerson’s flatmate.

He’s an odd looking fellow as well as a raging virgin, but I really like him. We met when he came out with us on Saturday night and it is Em’s—and my—new mission to get him laid.

“Julian has a date tonight,” I tell them moodily.

Emerson screws up her face. “So?”

“So… I want to see who this Bernadette is, with her stupid toffee voice?”

“You like him now?” She rolls her eyes. “You are actually admitting it?”

“No. This is…” I try to think of a suitable answer. “I’m just checking on him for the sake of the kids.”

Hank smirks as he licks his ice cream.