Page 32 of The Boyfriend Swap

“Sure. I should text James.” I needed to catch him up on the boyfriend swap and beg him not to cause a scene when he saw Will and me together. I jumped out of my chair. “Be right back.”

I raced up the stairs and after closing my bedroom door behind me, I scrolled for James’s name on my phone. He answered on the first ring. “Thank God. I was going crazy with Robyn withdrawal.”

“You could have called me first,” I said with a chuckle as I realized how much I truly missed my oldest and dearest friend.

“Yeah, sorry. Yesterday was hectic, but I was about to call you. I swear.”

Twirling a tendril of still-damp hair around my finger, I said, “You free tonight? A bunch of people from high school are going to Billy Murphy’s.”

“Like who?”

I cleared my throat. “I have to tell you something and you might die.”

“Please don’t joke about my mortality, Robyn.”

“I’m serious. You might want to sit down for this.”

“I’d rather do the Whip and Nae Nae with my favorite dance partner.”

I squeaked out a laugh as my heart exploded in my chest. “James.”

“Relax. My butt is officially in a chair. Spill.”

“Guess who’s in my kitchen right now?”

“Lisa Lisa? Brenda K. Starr?” James loved to tease that my parents’ list of Facebook friends would be really impressive if it were 1985.

“Will Brady,” I whispered.

“I didn’t hear you. Will to Power?”

Raising my voice one level, I said, “Will Brady.”

“Will Brady? Did you say Will Brady is in your kitchen?”

I nodded until I realized he couldn’t see me through the phone. “Yes. And he slept in my bed last night.”

“YOU SLEPT WITH WILL BRADY LAST NIGHT?”

As James’s scream pierced my eardrums, I held the phone away from my ear. “Only in the literal sense. We slept together, but we didn’tsleeptogether. Keep your voice down. I don’t want him to hear you.” I opened my door a crack and peered down the hallway. There was no sign of Will, so I closed the door again.

“Why is this news to me, Robyn Taylor Lane?”

Wincing at the use of my full name—inspired by another eighties music icon, Taylor Dayne—I said, “I’ll tell you everything. Try not to interrupt me until I’m finished.”

James miraculously remained silent as I relayed the whole story. I left out the part where I ogled Will while he slept.

When I was finished, James said, “You’re right, I’m this close to a heart attack.” He whistled through his teeth. “Wow.”

“I know, right?” It was freeing somehow to finally confide in someone who would truly understand the enormity of the situation. James used to hate playing “If you could have sex with anyone in the world, who would it be?” with me, because while he switched things up through the years—sometimes it was Orlando Bloom, for a while it was the substitute gym teacher, and then his crush on John Stamos was legendary—my answer was always Will Brady. He’d never admit it because I called dibs, but I knew James also crushed on Will for a while too.

“Are you still in love with him?”

“Of course not. And I wasn’t ‘in love’ with him. It was an innocent crush. I moved on years ago, and I’m taken. But guess what? Perry might land an agent out of all this.” My lips curled up at the thought. Noting James’s silence, I said, “You there?”

“Shh. I’m enjoying a moment of silence for Perry. You have great taste in men, Robyn.”

I chuckled. “Tell that to my parents.”

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