James snickers as he makes a cappuccino. “So then who is texting your knickers in a knot?”

“Finn.”

He almost stumbles, foam sloshing over the rim of the cup. “Finn? As in Finn, he’s an asshat and I totally hate him, Mannus?”

“I don’t hate him. We just got off on the wrong foot. Finn is fine.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Not what I meant.”

A slow, evil smile spreads over his face. “And now it’s Finn, eh?”

“That is his name,” I deadpan.

“Mmm…” He hands me the cup and turns to make another cappuccino for himself. “Why are you in a snit over Finn? Is he harassing you?”

“No.” I grab the phone but don’t at the screen, lest I be tempted to answer. “He’s flirting. I’m flirting. And I like it.” I flop my arm in exasperation.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone be put out by good flirting.” James sips his coffee and studies me with a frown. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”

The phone dings again.

GQ: Was that too much? Or has the possibility of massaging my fine ass made you faint?

A snort escapes me.

CC: Yes. You got me. The terror was too much.

GQ: It’s okay, Chester. A lot of women can’t handle this much hotness at once.

James’s voice turns droll. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen that expression on your face.”

“What expression?” I wait for Finn’s reply.

“Besotted.”

“Besotted? Have you been reading historicals again?”

“Yes. And stop trying to burn a hole in my head with your eyes. There’s nothing wrong with liking this guy. You’ve had shit luck with men. Finding one you’re actually excited about is a good thing. Why are you fighting this?”

Heat churns in my chest. “Because he isn’t interested in dating,” I grit out.

“Then take a ride on that hot body of his and enjoy yourself.”

The heat moves from my chest to the back of my neck. “He doesn’t that want that from me either.”

James gapes at me in confusion. Which doesn’t help my bruised and confused ego. “Not possible. I saw the way he looked at you.”

“Oh?” Ignore the flutter. The flutter is a cheap, attention whore. “And how’s that?”

“Like you were the Vince Lombardi Trophy covered in honey.”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

“Super Bowl, Chessie. Best you bone up on your football knowledge now.”

Cute. “However he may or may not have looked at me, Finn made it clear he didn’t want to hook up. He said he just wants to, and I quote, ‘know me.’”

“Huh.” James taps his fingers on the counter for an annoying few beats. “Well, maybe it’s best not to overthink things. You like him, that’s clear. Just go with it.”

“Go with it.” How helpful.

“You never know what can happen.”

I’m rolling my eyes when the front door buzzer sounds.

James snaps to attention. “Ah, speaking of that…” He fiddles with his polka dot bowtie. “I’ve er…met someone.”

“I presume this someone is at the door?” I ask, bemused. James has never really introduced me to anyone. Not in a formal way. I’ve gone out on double dates with him, but those were casual, and I rarely ever saw his date again.

“Yes.” James flushes. “I was going to tell you, but got caught up in your dare I do the quarterback drama.”

I shoot him a quelling look. “Are you going to get that? Or do you want me to?”

“No, no. I’ll get it.” He hustles over to the door as if he’s about to jump out of his skin.

Which means it’s serious. Suddenly, I feel as unsettled as James looks.

I quickly tap out a text to Finn because I don’t want to be rude to James’s guest.

CC: James is here. I have to go. Talk later?

Why did I feel the need to ask?

He answers quickly.

GQ: Nxt Tuesday is my day off. You available for lunch? Lemme know when U get a chance.

I don’t answer. James leading his new love into the loft, while giving me a soppy smile. And he called me besotted? The man is practically floating along.

I had expected him to introduce me to a model, either male or female. Tall and stunning is James’s preference. But that’s not the case here.

“This is Jamie,” James says, holding his arm around a short, slender man with a halo of blonde curls and wearing heavy, black framed glasses. “Jamie, met Chess.”

“Chess.” Jamie leans in to offer me a hand, and from beneath a cute blue argyle sweater vest, I see the soft swell of breasts. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Since James has been closed-mouth as shit, I can’t say the same. So I simply shake her hand, but I lose hold on my smile. “James and Jamie, eh?”

James actually flushes. “I know. It’s awful, isn’t it? We’ll be one of those couples who dresses alike and finishes each other’s sentences.” He looks completely happy about that prospect.

“You’re halfway there already,” I point out, eyeing James’s brown argyle sweater vest.

Jamie laughs. “And we didn’t even plan it.”

“I’m feeling very Bert and Ernie right now,” James says, running a hand down his chest.

Jamie laughs again. “If we want to be really obnoxious, we could get a dog and name it Jimmy.” Her nose wrinkles. “Never mind. I forgot. I once dated a girl who had a dog named Jim.”

“I always wanted to meet a boy named Sue,” James musses.

Jamie smiles up at him. “We could name the dog Sue.”

“Okay,” I cut in, “you guys are annoying.”

They both grin wide, unrepentant. “I brought beignets.” Jamie holds up a big bag from Cafe du Monde, the bottom of it spotted with grease stains. And I swear my mouth waters. “James says they’re your favorite.”

Definitely serious if kissing up to the best friend is involved.

God. I’m jealous. I’m actually jealous.

Snap out of it, you shrew!

The woman is wearing a sweater vest and a blue bow tie. How can I not find this endearing?