top of her head as she towers over me with all her statuesque bronze glory. She narrows her eyes at me. “I vote you still treat this like a date and have a good time. You work hard, and you deserve to have some fun with a man who you can…” She grabs my hips and swivels me side to side.
“Stop!” I squeak and fight back a nervous giggle as the image of Dean’s naked body hovering over me pummels me out of nowhere. I twist to face her and lose all humor. “I showed you the rules. There will be no hip action.”
She shakes her head sadly. “When was the last time you had any hip action?”
I squint and look up at the ceiling like it’s going to remind me somehow. “Well, Barrett and I broke up a few years ago, but we had that one random hookup last year.”
Rachael presses her hands to her temples, her jaw dropped. “How can you go a year without it?”
“I take care of myself, thank you very much.” My eyes flit over the bathroom drawer that contains all I’ll ever need in that department. Frankly, that drawer is ten times more fun than Barrett ever was.
She rests her hands on my shoulders. “Battery-operated toys cannot replace the natural power of a good dickin’.”
I bark out a laugh that gets caught in my throat, causing an uncomfortable cough attack when suddenly the buzzer on my door sounds off.
Rachael quirks a brow. “And he’s punctual…already a match made in heaven.”
“Go let him in, please,” I choke out and then scurry over to clear the mess spread all over my bathroom counter.
Rachael saunters away without a care in the world, and I immediately regret every decision about this night. I could have told my parents I wasn’t feeling well. Or scheduled an important business meeting that couldn’t be missed. Why can’t there be another franchiser conference somewhere right now? At least if I were there, I’d be excited and energized.
Not nauseous and wondering if the flips in my stomach are nerves or the urge to poo.
By the time I locate my jean jacket, I hear Dean’s low voice wafting down the hallway as he chats with Rachael. I do a quick peek around the corner, and I swear my nails dig into the plaster on the wall when my eyes land on him.
Dean looks…hot.
And annoyingly, no embarrassing lip sweat in sight.
He’s trimmed his dark beard so it’s just this thin layer of stubble that exudes sex appeal. He’s got on black slacks with brown loafers and no socks—seriously, how does he pull that off? And his perfectly tailored white button-down is peppered with black, tiny anchors, the top two buttons undone.
He looks effortlessly casual, like he listens to yacht rock on his imaginary sailboat. Nothing about me is casual or yacht rock smooth.
My body temp rises to a level that has me double-checking my deodorant as I swallow the lump in my throat and glance at myself in the hallway mirror. Bright red flesh stares back at me. Stupid fair skin. It shows literally every feeling I ever have.
Why can’t I be yacht rock smooth?
“Norah, stop freaking out and get your ass out here,” Rachael bellows, and suddenly, I’m no longer nervous. I just want to punch my friend in her pretty face.
Hesitantly, I emerge from around the corner and make my way toward them. I shoot an awkward smile to Dean and notice he’s not wearing his dark-framed glasses tonight. His brown eyes really pop now, looking less cocoa and more caramel.
“Wh-what’s up, Moser?” I stutter dumbly and fidget with my jacket.
“Norah, you look better than a strawberry cream croinut,” Dean says without skipping a beat. His eyes move down my body, and I feel like I could pee a little.
I clear my throat and point at the door. “Let’s get this over with, okay?”
Dean beams smugly. “Everything I’ve ever wanted to hear from a woman.”
Rachael laughs. “Try to remind her to have some fun, Dean.”
“I’ll give it the old college try.”
Dean winks at me, and I ignore the rush of butterflies in my stomach. He’s always been hot; this isn’t new information. My tummy flips are just nerves. Tonight is a business deal and nothing more. I can do this.
My parents live on the edge of suburbia Boulder. They built the house when I was in high school, and I remember drooling when my mother put a double oven in the kitchen. For