Page 33 of The Boyfriend Swap

“I’m sure your mom agrees Perry’s one gorgeous piece of man beef. She just wishes he came dressed in a Brooks Brothers suit instead of black t-shirts and jeans that fall dangerously low on his hips.”

“I’m going to have to tell them the truth at some point.”

“Not if you fall back in love with Will.”

“It wasn’t love, James. And Will already has a girlfriend anyway.” Whether it was “serious” yet was irrelevant.

“Psst. Sidney’s got nothing on you.”

“You’ve never seen her. She looks like Adrienne.”

“No way.”

“They both have red hair.” Aside from the hair, they actually looked nothing alike, but I’d bet Adrienne used a blow dryer and flatiron too.

“You can have red hair if you want.”

“Not happening.”

“Good. You’re gorgeous, sweetie. If Will Brady doesn’t want to park his car in Robyn Lane, he should have his license revoked.”

“Thanks. But it doesn’t matter anyway. We’re just pretending.” At the sound of knocking on my door, I said, “Come in” and smiled at Will. Pointing to my phone, I mouthed, “James.” Into the phone, I said, “Billy Murphy’s later then?”

“Is he there?” James whispered.

“Yes.”

“One more question and I’ll let you go.”

Pacing the room, I said, “Shoot.”

“Does he sleep in the buff?”

I gulped, remembering my genuine struggle to keep my eyes from wandering in the direction of Will’s boxer shorts the night before. Facing the wall, I said, “Probably between eight and nine. I’ll text you.” I ended the call and when I turned back around, I almost banged right into Will. He was holding a change of clothes and a toiletry bag. “Is now a good time to shower?”

An image of Will with water dripping down his naked body flashed before my eyes, and I bit back shame. “Sure. Let me get you some towels.”

Chapter 9

Sidney

“Here,” Perry said, placing a large coffee cup next to me.

“What’s this for?” With one last sip, I finished off the Americano I’d bought for myself. Then I moved the fresh cup closer to me before continuing to type out an email to my paralegal. I didn’t expect her to read it on Christmas Eve, but at least it would be off my plate.

I heard Perry say, “You guys using this?” and a moment later, a chair squeaked as he sat down across from me at the small table in the Starbucks I’d been hiding in for the last thirty minutes. “Peace offering.”

“Are we at war?” I pressed “send” on the email and looked up at Perry. I was hoping the time-out from my fake boyfriend would last longer than a half hour.

He shrugged. “You tell me. You didn’t speak to me at all on the ride here, and then you ran off on your own the second you got out of the car. I circled the mall three times before finding you here.”

“I was taught if I didn’t have something nice to say, not to say anything.”

He tousled my hair. “Sweet Cherry Bomb. What could I possibly have done to annoy you now?”

Wiggling away from him, I hissed, “Why don’t you ask me in an Irish brogue? Rumor has it you’re great at accents.” I went back to reading my emails with half concentration.

“Are you always this uptight, Sidney Bean?”

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