Priceless (Forbidden Men 8)

“Oh, sorry.” He made an apologetic motion with his hands, but I told him it was perfectly fine. He wasn’t used to this way of life. Totally not his fault.

But I think it was starting to make him uncomfortable. He messed with the collar of his shirt as soon as we entered the elevator. I was kind of tempted to tell him he should just undo the top button when he finally did.

Once we reached the fifth floor, he led me to apartment 5A and unlocked the door before letting me enter first. He turned on the light as he came in behind me, and I wheeled around to face him, wondering what was supposed to happen now.

There was no smell in the air as if he were cooking anything in the oven. I began to wonder if there was going to be any food involved with this date at all just as he fiddled with his now-opened collar and then glanced at me.

I flashed him a smile, hoping it would help settle his unease. Smiles helped everything, right? But mine only seemed to make him more uncomfortable. He jerked his gaze away, and I wondered if—crap—maybe I was drooling. With a quick whisk of the back of my hand across my mouth, I discovered all was good there. Thank goodness.

“You thirsty?” he finally asked.

“Um...yeah, sure.” I nodded, relieved to get him out of the room. I needed a moment to clear my head and come up with something to say, because he obviously wasn’t going to be the conversation-starter.

I tried to think up some of the things Brandt and I discussed since Brandt was a guy about the same age as Seth, but he and I talked about so much it was hard to narrow it down to one subject.

Ooh, except maybe movies.

Movies were a good, safe topic. Or television shows. Hopefully Seth was a Supernatural fan. We might actually survive the night if we could bond over Dean and Castiel. I was so going to ask him about that.

From the kitchen, I heard the refrigerator open and glasses clink. My nerves settled some. He was pulling out glassware; he must be trying to impress me at least some. That was good.

All this was good.

We could do this.

Next to me, something dinged. I glanced over to find he’d left his cell phone face up on his coffee table. When a certain word caught my attention, I frowned and leaned closer, reading the entire message.

And what I saw made my veins fill with pure ice.

BRANDT

I couldn’t believe Julianna had talked me into a date.

I wasn’t so sure about dating a coworker. I usually—okay, fine! always—had commitment problems and ended up pissing off women who wanted more from me. If I pissed off Juli, it would really suck when we had to work together again.

Plus, it was nearly impossible for me to concentrate. What if Sarah’s date was supposed to be tonight? I’d been able to use deductive reasoning through some craftily asked questions throughout the week to discover tonight was the one night she didn’t have free for a while. And if she wasn’t free, she was probably busy with him.

God, it was so fucking weird to think of her with some other guy.

When she’d told me she’d been interested in dating since she was at least eighteen, it’d taken everything inside me not to demand why she’d never been interested in dating me.

But she was right. We were just friends. Besides, over the years, I’d gained a taste for certain...things. I would be too horrified to try them with Sarah, even if she were interested in me that way.

&nbs

p; “So, where are we headed?” Juli asked, snapping me to the present.

Damn. I’d been ignoring her. Not good.

“You like fried chicken?” I asked, glancing her way.

She glanced back and arched an eyebrow. “I’m a black woman from the South. What do you think?”

“Oh shit,” I gushed, my eyes growing with horror and face heating as I realized how badly she’d misinterpreted my question. “I totally didn’t mean—”

With a laugh, she touched my arm. “I’m teasing you. Sorry, I couldn’t resist. You’re just too cute when you blush.”

And she was freaking cruel when she teased. Jesus. I almost had heart failure, afraid I’d insulted her.