Page 57 of The Off-Limits Rule: Extended Edition

My heart sinks. “You regret it?”

His eyes dart to me and his expression softens. “No—that’s not what I meant. I just…I asked if you wanted to make him jealous, but that was immature of me to put it on you, becauseIwas the one who wanted to make him jealous. You deserve better than how I treated you too.”

I can’t help the smile clawing at my lips. “Maybe you’re right, but you don’t hear me complaining about it.”

His mouth tics ever so slightly in the corners as we continue to stare at each other—steeped in a moment of shared desire. Suddenly, this elevator is a sauna, and my clothes are going to catch fire.

It feels strange having him all the way over there when we were just pressed together like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Cooper reads my thoughts. “I have to stay over here.”

“Why?”

“So I don’t pick up where we left off in my office.”

Every nerve ending in my body tingles. “Right. That would be terrible. Very bad. Us kissing is a very bad thing.”

He smiles as the elevator door opens, but frankly, I’m annoyed at its timing because I was just about to try to work my feminine wiles one last time. He gestures for me to go out ahead of him, and then when I do, he swoops in behind me, leaning down like a spy whispering a top-secret message in my ear as we walk. “It’s going to be the hardest thing I’ve done in my life to resist you, but I will, because I want to get this right. When Drew gets home, we’ll talk to him.”

I swallow and barely manage to keep moving. “But what about tomorrow night? You agreed to go on a double date as my boyfriend.”

He nods with a slight grimace. “Yeah. Probably shouldn’t have said yes. It was a knee-jerk reaction to that asshole and the possessive vibes he was giving off.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking out over the street and then back to me. “Okay, tomorrow night we get a break from our off-limits rule—but only when Brent is present. All other times, no touching. Deal?”

I let my smile curve my lips, feeling more empowered from the leftover heat of our make-out session. “Deal. I think we better seal it with a kiss.”

He shakes his head slowly at me. “Trouble.”

He’s right. For the first time in too many years, I finally feel like a little bit of trouble—in the best way possible.

Chapter 25

Lucy

“What underwear do you have on?” Jessie asks as I put the finishing touches on my soft-pink lipstick. Her question makes me jump, smearing it a little in the corner.Great, now I look like a toddler.

I look to where she’s leaning against the bathroom doorframe and huff out an annoyed breath. “Wonderful. Now I have to fix this.” Or maybe I should just take off the lipstick altogether? I’m not really a lipstick girl. I’m more of a swipe-on-some-mint-lip-balm-and-call-it-a-day kind of a person.

“Not my fault you’re jumpy about your undies.”

I rip off a piece of tissue and dab the corner of my mouth. “I’m not jumpy about my undies. I’m just jumpy in general. But to answer your question, don’t worry, I’m wearing something new, cute, and lacy under this dress.”

“Change it,” she barks, making my shoulders jump again.

Jessie is here because she’s quickly become my BFF in the cheesiestBaby-Sitters Clubsense of the word, and also becauseshe’s going to stay here with Levi while I’m gone. Don’t worry, I’m not one of those terrible friends who begs her pregnant, miserable friend to watch their kid while they go have a good time. The dinner reservation is for 7:30, when I knew Levi would already be asleep (which he is currently), and I stocked my pantry with a wide selection of chocolate, candy, and potato chips. I bought a leopard-print Snuggie and tied a bow around it for her to find when she goes to the couch, and I also started a seven-day free trial of HBO so she can watch whatever movie she wants—basically, I’m a saint.

“Huh? Change what?”

“The lace. Get rid of it and replace it with something scratchy and old. Period panties would be preferable if you have any—and I know you do because it’s a universal truth. Bonus points if the elastic is worn out.” She turns around and goes to my dresser, rummaging through the top drawer, which everyone knows is designated for intimates.

I watch, slightly horrified at the intense set of her shoulders as she dives into my underwear like she’s searching for weird buried treasure. “Stop that! Are you seriously searching for gross old underwear?”

“Yes. Why would you think I’m joking?”

I go snatch away theespeciallyunfavorable panties she has found and is brandishing like a victory flag. Her scary eyes tell me she might go plant them in Cooper’s front yard or something. “I can barely tolerate looking at these horrible things as it is. Why in the hell would I want Cooper to see them?! I don’t even think married people who’ve been together for decades like for their partners to see them in something like this horror show.”

“Exactly.” Jessie rips the panties back from my hand. This is a strange game of hot potato. “Do you have an old bra to pair withthese? Something tan with a wire poking out and a gaping cup, maybe?”

“Ugh, just stop,” I say, closing the drawer and only narrowly pausing for Jessie to extract her fingers. She deserves to have them chopped off for being the worst wingwoman in the history of wingwomen. “I’m not sure where you took your seduction classes, but I think you should get your money back.”

Jessie crosses her arms over her little baby bump and lifts a taunting eyebrow—no smile anywhere to be found. “I’m not your wingwoman tonight. I’m your wing clipper.”

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