Page 65 of Mr. Hook-up

Me:I think you should feel bad for me...

Drake:Why is that?

Me:Because I’m dying to walk into your office and lean across your desk and ravish your lips and it’s taking every ounce of willpower I have not to.

Drake:We’re at work. Down boy.

Me:Except the thought of you makes that extremely difficult.

Drake:I’m blushing.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Drake

I sat alone at the same table I’d shared with Saara just minutes ago. The chunky ice cube was melting into water at the bottom of my glass, each sip now only full of the lemon and rosemary that had garnished the Manhattan my best friend had ordered me, the liquor much stronger than a small pour of sauvignon blanc. Saara’s hope was that it would whittle away my nerves, making the prickles in my body less blunt, but it hadn’t worked. The thought of Easton and Mr.Boston still turned me into a nonstop-talking, jittery mess.

As did the—oh God—questions.

I didn’t even know where to start with those or how to process them.

Or what to even think.

But my best friend had been very strategic with her departure, leaving less than a ten-minute window before Mr.Boston’s arrival. A few minutes before eight o’clock, the door to the bar opened with force, a familiar face walking through the entrance, his eyes scanning the large space, unsure of who he was looking for.

I had told him I’d be in red.

Fitting, I thought.

I stood, balancing my purse on my shoulder, gripping the strap like it was rope, and walked toward him. With each step, I squeezed the leather even harder, urging my courage out of hiding, forcing my emotion to the forefront of my heart, where it needed to stay, at least until I got through this.

I wanted to stop a few feet away and catch my breath, an attempt to calm the flutters.

But I couldn’t afford to take the time.

He was searching the crowd, looking for red, and it was only a matter of seconds before he landed on me.

I placed my hand on the back of his shoulder, whispering just loud enough that he would hear me over the noise.“Hiii.”

His body froze, like he was registering my touch, my sound, my signature word, and he turned.

His expression was full of confusion as he took in my face. “Drake”—his stare deepened, intensified, quickly dipping down my body, silently acknowledging the color of my dress—“what are you doing here?”

“I asked you to come and I’m so relieved you finally agreed to.” I waited for the courage to surface, but the nerves were there, digging away at me, relentlessly. “Easton ...” I glanced down, unsure of how to proceed even though I’d rehearsed this. Even though I’d thought about this moment countless times over the years. But now, here, as he stood before me, everything seemed more difficult. “I’m SaarasLove.”

The news hit his face, causing his eyes to widen, his lips to part. “You’re ...her.”

It wasn’t a question.

It almost sounded like he was confirming the truth in his head, sliding each of the pieces into place, the puzzle either what he had suspected ...

Or hadn’t.

“Let’s go sit and talk.” My fingers dropped to his arm. “I already have a table.”

He said nothing as he followed me across the room, returning to the spot where I’d met Saara earlier this evening, silently sitting as we took the chairs across from one another.

“Before you say anything,” I started, “I want to explain—”

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