I wanted to say no, but my mouth—like always—said the opposite. “Fine. It’s going to be a few. I need to get dressed.”

“It’s not a huge rush. Thank you so much. I owe you, April!”

I hung up and then started to get ready. Sid came home not long before I left, tossing her book bag on her bed. She turned to take me in with a wolf whistle.

“Why are you all gussied up?”

I had on a cute little black dress and my shiny, patent leather Christian Louboutins.

“I’m meeting the Phi Kappa girls at a club. But wish me luck. I have to run some paperwork over to the Beast.”

Her brows rose. “Dude, he’s making you work on a Saturday night?”

“It’s a favor, for Susan,” I sighed.

She gave me a knowing look, but thankfully said nothing about my inability to say no.

“We’re meeting down by the pier in Newport. Why don’t you come with?”

“I dance like a duck. It’s too embarrassing.” Sid had been raised in a pretty protected home environment. Her dad was Middle Eastern and very traditional, and therefore Sid had not been allowed to date in high school, which then led to an awkward social life in college—even more awkward than mine.

“Well, I’m going for an hour or two to hang out with the girls and do a little dancing.”

“No drinking?”

“Hell to the no,” I said. “I told you. Alcohol will never touch my lips again. Alcohol is apparently my kryptonite, but instead of turning me weak, it makes me dumb as a fencepost.”

I grabbed my everyday purse, snatched out my wallet and tucked both it and my phone into my Louis Vuitton clutch.

Sid waggled her eyebrows. “You look foxy. Maybe if you stay sober, you’ll meet a nice boy instead of a jerkface.”

“Likely I’ll end up bored after fifteen minutes of dancing and sit in the bathroom reading an e-book on my phone.”

Sid laughed.

“You can laugh, but I’ve actually done that before and then slipped out at an acceptable time.”

“Why not just say you don’t want to go?”

“Oh”—I waved my hand and checked myself one last time in the mirror—“you know me. I go with the flow and make it appear like I’m following the crowd, then do my own thing.”

“Maybe you need a new philosophy.”

I sighed. “You’re probably right.” Then I walked out the door to, once again, follow the crowd.

It took me the full thirty minutes to drive over to Draco, get security to let me in, find the paperwork that Susan had described to me, and drive over to his house. I’d followed the GPS app on my phone to direct me down the narrow streets at the end of the peninsula, where the houses butted up against each other and looked out over the crowded and popular beach.

I knocked on his door at quarter to seven and he answered a minute later. I had to fight to keep my jaw from dropping because Jordan was in his swim trunks—long, colorful board shorts that hung low on his hips—and nothing else. No shirt. No shoes.

No breathing—on my part.

He. Was. Magnificent. Muscular, well-developed chest. I could see the indentations to every crease and rise. He wasn’t overly bulky, but every muscle was firm and clearly defined, even that delicious little valley that separated his six-pack from his hips, dipping below the waist of his trunks. There was a light dusting of hair on his taut pecs and trailing across his flat stomach. He had a surfer’s bod, complete with a light tan, a smattering of sand on his shin and damp hair.

My mouth went dry. I was about to start panting like a puppy at any moment. I wanted to lick him like a puppy, too.

I hated him, but I wanted to lick him. He was licktacular.

He was also staring at me with a completely confused look on his face. “What the hell are you doing here?”

I flushed hot, realizing that I’d been standing there for half a minute, staring and gaping at his beauty. He was Adonis, surfer-style. On top of that, he hadn’t shaved today, so he had light scruff along his jaw, making him that much yummier.

Speechless, I shoved the envelope at him, afraid that anything coming out of my mouth at this moment might sound a bit like, “Duh, der, uh, uck, errrr.”

Jordan took it from me without even looking at it. “Where’s Susan?” he snapped.

“She’s sick. She asked me to drop it by. Well—goodbye then!” I stepped back.

He stepped forward, running his eyes down my little black dress and my legs. Where his eyes touched me, I could swear it was almost tangible, his hands sweeping down over my body. His gaze wandered back to mine very slowly, lingering on my cleavage. I was hot everywhere those eyes stroked me. “Where are you going all dressed up like that?”