Page 1 of Sexy Bad Valentine

CHAPTER ONE

Evie

“Who are you bringing for Valentine’s?” Hannah’s face fills the screen of my laptop as I fold the sixth pair of boyleg underwear I own and shove the garment in the top drawer of my armoire.

“No one,” I admit with my back turned to her. I don’t want to see the look on her face when she hears that I’m desperately dateless coming up to the most important day of the year. At least it is to my lifelong bestie, Hannah Fairfax.

When I glance back she has her face shoved right up to the camera and for a second I get a detailed shot of her left nostril. “I can’t believe you, Evie. You promised last year you were going to work on having a date for this year. How can I trust you to look after your love life if you can’t find one lousy date?”

“I don’t have time.” I cram four pairs of jeans into the next drawer down. “I don’t even have time to go shopping for clothes or underwear.” I swear my uniform has become denim and oversized cotton T-shirts in colors that don’t show stains. “Not with this nannying gig.”

“Don’t blame the kid,” Hannah tells me, pulling the camera back so that I can see her properly. Hazel eyes stare me down reproachfully. “It’s not her fault you’re lame.”

“I wasn’t. It’s just I don’t have a lot of time to socialize.” That’s the downside of nannying for a sports celebrity. Most of my time is spent at home with Abby while they jet off to galas, and tours, and events. It puts somewhat of a cramp in finding time to meet people. “Plus I’m studying.”

“What about that guy? The one who’s friends with your boss’s fiancée. Darren or David or...”

“Danny.” I stick my tongue out at her as I cram my T-shirts into the next drawer and shove it shut with my hip. “That was a one time thing. In my car. I mean, he was cute in the desperately need to scratch an itch way, but he’s not the kind of guy one dates. And now I see him way too often since he’s always visiting Erin. I caught him pinching Garrett’s balls the other day.”

“Kinky.” She smirks.

“Golf balls, Han,” I correct. “Golf. Balls.”

“He sounds like fun, Lane. You should totally bring him.”

“Not going to happen.” I take a seat on the bed and sling my hair back into a ponytail.

“Well then you better find a date or I’m going to set you up with Alison’s cousin, Neal. Do you remember him?”

“You wouldn’t.” I gape at her.

“He always asks about you.” She laughs. “I’m sure he would love to spend an evening trying to stick his hand up your dress.”

“He was a creep.”

“He was,” she agrees. “Which is why I know you’ll show up with a date even if it’s the ball stealing guy you bumped uglies with in the back of your coupe.”

I roll my gaze to the ceiling and blow out a breath. There’s only six weeks until Valentine’s Day. “How am I supposed to find a decent guy in that amount of time?”

“You could try Tinder,” she suggests. “Maybe you’ll luck out.”

“On Tinder?” I shake my head. “It’s not hard to tell you haven’t had to find a date in a while.”

“Tsk, tsk. All this time you’re spending on complaining would be better used fishing for a hot stud who looks good in angel’s wings.”

“Fine,” I begrudgingly agree. “I’m going to hang up now and see if I can find someone more agreeable than you to talk into a date.”

“Don’t forget hotter.” She laughs. “Which might be more difficult.”

“I’ll manage,” I tell her, my finger hovering over the button that will disconnect our video chat. “Talk soon.”

Crap. I stare at the screen long after it goes blank. How am I going to find a date for this party when I barely have time to go online and buy date worthy underwear? Not that it’s been a problem recently since no one has seen my underwear in a good while. Or my legs. The fuzz extends well beyond my socks. Thank you, winter.

At least there’s something I can do about that since I have a rare free evening to myself while the Frosts are out to dinner with their daughter. A couple glasses of wine, some wax strips and funny cat videos sounds like the perfect way to spend it.

After I heat the wax strips in the kitchen, I end up on the floor of my bedroom with the laptop at full volume. Who knew cats were freaked out by cucumbers? I snort and have to clamp my hand over my mouth to avoid spitting out a mouthful of boyfriend cheesecake. Hey, if there’s any chance yummy chocolate cheesecake can help me attract a date then I have to eat it.

Once I’m done with my legs I peruse Tinder over a couple glasses of white, and then switch to dogs doing funny things. There’s even a video of a tiny dog being chased by a duck that resembles my charge’s pet, Ducky.

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