The Setup

by Rachel Van Dyken

And how I wanted to figure out a way to get her alone again.

  As if reading my thoughts, Leo and Slater looked my way and grinned like they had a secret.

  I grinned back because, duh, I was a bit drunk and would need a ride home. I only hoped they deciphered my grin as yes, I’m happy, I kind of have a crush, help.

  Instead of drunkenness, prison, and waking up naked.

  Fingers crossed!

  Chapter Six

  Jillian

  I woke up Saturday morning with a crazy headache and a serious need to punch Finn in the face.

  I remembered shots.

  And then he couldn’t drive home, and I said something like, “Oh, it’s cool you can stay at my house.”

  Only I slurred it about fifty times before he finally deciphered that I meant he could crash at my house and not what he interpreted as “I really could use a mouse.”

  I groaned and got out of bed. I was in nothing but a ratty old Queen shirt and too tight SPANX, huh, the battle must have been too hard last night, and like any good soldier, I knew when it was time to call it quits on the shapewear.

  They were nude and looked like granny panties, but who cared? It’s not like I had company.

  I yawned and stumbled into my living room.

  “Wow, sexy underwear,” a voice drawled to my left.

  Slowly I turned, it was three seconds of praying that the voice didn’t belong to the body and that the body wasn’t really in my house but a figment of my imagination from drinking too much.

  But there he was, naked from the waist up in nothing but one of my clearly too short towels and dripping wet hair.

  Male perfection folks.

  My jaw dropped as I caught a whiff of coconut. “Did you use my body wash?”

  “And your toothbrush.”

  “Finn!”

  “Kidding, but I did use my finger and your toothpaste, I also searched every cabinet for a hint of something that I could use against you if I ever needed to blackmail you and all I came up with was a jar of ass cream and a Cosmo you seemed to have saved from three years ago with sex advice circled and underlined and then circled again.” He grinned. “I’m sure it was all for research purposes, and you meant to throw it away, right?”

  I groaned into my hands. “I can’t deal with you this early. I need coffee.”

  His smile was blinding. “Hey, nothing wrong with knowing what positions you like best.”

  “Do you?” I snapped.

  “Do I what?”

  “Know what positions you like best?” Two could play that game, though something flashed across his face before his arrogant smirk was back. “I’m going to regret asking this, aren’t I?”

  “Admit it, you kind of already do.” He winked.

  “Good looks are wasted on Satan’s minions,” I grumbled.

  He burst out laughing. “Thank you? And I think any position where I can see the person’s eyes is my favorite, which leaves the most boring of them all.”

  “Missionary?” I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t believe it.”

  “I won’t force you to.” He smiled and eyed me up and down. “Maybe I’m not really what you think I am?”

  “A manwhore?”

  He just shrugged while I crossed my arms and then felt the material of my SPANX touch my arms.

  I froze.

  “Need help getting those off? And know I’m offering my services as platonically as I can, all things considered. I’ll even close my eyes.”

  “Worst day ever!” I stomped. “I think I had trouble getting them off last night.”

  “You did, and then you kicked me when I tried to help, but to be fair it sounded like you were sacrificing a goat every time you tried to peel them from your body and I’m not into animal suffering so I went in to save the day only to find your ass in the air and your hair matted to your face compliments of the sweat dripping down your skin—”

  “Stop talking.” I held up my hand. “Make me coffee since I let you crash, then help me out of these.”

  He eyed me up and down. “We might need scissors.”

  “How did I even get these on?”

  “Crisco?” His answer.

  “You are such a dick!” I hissed.

  He just winked. “Like I said, I love curves and your ass. Stop torturing it and set it free…” He made a flying motion with his hands.

  I frowned. He had to be kidding, right?

  But his face wasn’t his usual sarcastic face. In fact, this face I couldn’t decipher. It was more… lethal.

  And then the look was gone.

  He poured me a cup of coffee then one for himself then came over to where I was standing, knelt in front of me, and honest to God apologized to my butt. “She knows not what she does, we’ll get you free.” After a slap on my ass, I was ready to choke him out, but before I could take action, he stood and dipped his hands inside the SPANX and started slowly rolling them down my body.

  Having his hands on me in this way was torture. They were firm, warm, and with every tug downward, I had to keep myself from whimpering.

  I grunted, a very unladylike grunt when he made it to my hips with a rough jerk.

  I could feel the indent of his fingers in my skin as he tugged a bit harder. “Stop fighting it.”

  “It’s tight!” I whined. I could only imagine I looked like a swollen cupcake at this point.

  “No shit and my fingers are going to lose all circulation if you keep moving away from me. Just let me do this.” Finn sounded determined.

  “Fine.” I squeezed my eyes shut and stood still.

  “Almost…” He tugged again, and then he was on his knees, facing my ass as he pulled the SPANX free and down to my calves.

  Neither of us moved.

  I expected him to get up right away.

  Because… no SPANX meant naked Jillian, and my shirt barely covered my ass.

  Finn was silent, and then the VP and partner in crime squeezed my naked ass and whispered, “You’re free!”

  “Hilarious,” I snapped, and then my body heated as he moved closer, just a few inches and I’d be cocooned in his heat, pressing against him.

  Not the plan. Not even close.

  I was frozen in place, I should bolt toward the bedroom, put on actual clothes. I mean, he was my co-worker! We were working on this project together. I wanted to get promoted, not find myself attached to one of the VPs!

  “I’m just gonna go put on clothes.” I gulped.

  “Wait,” Finn rasped. “Give me at least two more minutes here, we’re having a moment.”

  “We?”

  “Me and your ass.”

  “Oh, dear God.” I covered my face with my hands. “Are you still drunk?”

  “Can I use that as an excuse to tell you I would one hundred percent bite every inch of your skin right now if you let me?”

  My entire body lit itself on fire. “You can’t say things like that to your co-worker, not if you don’t want to get fired.”

  “I figured since we’re at your apartment, technically we’re just two humans, not co-workers, and I’m fucking tired of censoring myself when it comes to the truth.”

  “The truth?”

  “When a woman’s beautiful, she should be told, over and over again until even she believes it.” A gust of air hit my bare ass as I felt him walk away.

  But I didn’t want him to go.

  My eyes filled with tears because that was hands down one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.

  And I knew he meant it.

  Which made it even harder to walk toward my bedroom and put on clothes when all I wanted to do was throw myself in Finn’s direction and beg him to take them off.

  Restraint.

  I could restrain myself.

  After a five-minute pep talk, I returned in some leggings and a sweatshirt, and Finn was at the breakfast bar sipping coffee, reading my newspaper, still shirtless, and looking like he lived there.

  “How’s the
head?” he asked without turning around.

  “Pounding,” I grumbled.

  I pulled out the barstool next to him, and because I had no other option but to give in to the magnetism that was Finn Titus, I reached over. “Done with the comics?”

  “All yours.” He slid them toward me.

  And that was how I ended up spending my Saturday morning.

  With the most gorgeous guy alive.

  Who, upon his exit, leaned in and whispered, “I knew you were lying about the cats.”

  Chapter Seven

  Finn

  I thought about SPANX more than any man should ever think about shapewear, which was odd since I’d never been a huge fan of it. Now all I could picture was that ass, my hands, her soft breathing, and the way she seemed to step back in my direction.

  Maybe it was my imagination.

  I smiled and sipped my coffee as I got on the elevator the following Monday, actually looking forward to our Monday morning meeting. If my notes were anything like Jillian’s—the group would get a kick out of the entire process like we had.

  Then again, the minute Brooke opened her mouth, I was ready to find a table to hide under, but then Jillian had given me this told-ya-so smile, and I’d put my boxing gloves back on.

  I wasn’t one to back down.

  And apparently, neither was Jillian.

  I pulled open the glass door to our floor and deposited a coffee on Jillian’s desk. Her hair was caught in a few pieces of her black headset as the phones rang off the hook.

  She was wearing a black turtleneck that seemed like a second damn skin, and I could only imagine what she was wearing on the bottom.

  “Coffee?” she mouthed.

  I shrugged. “For letting me use your body wash.”

  Her cheeks pinked, and then her eyes narrowed. “You don’t know my drink.”

  “I have friends in high places, J-dog.”

  “It’s Jillian!” she hissed.

  “See you soon, Jilly!”

  She rolled her eyes and then lifted the coffee in salute to me. I lifted mine and nearly collided with Slater and Leo as they rounded the corner.

  Both of them looked at me, then behind be. Damn it, I could see them doing hard math in their heads already.

  “Don’t hurt yourself, fellas.” I stepped around them toward my office then turned around. “One plus one does not equal love. It’s just coffee.”

  Slater’s eyebrows shot up to his head. “Actually, I was just going to ask what cologne you were wearing.”

  “Yeah.” Leo frowned. “You okay, man? What’s this manifestation about coffee, math, and love?”

  I gaped.

  Slater shot a concerned look to Leo. “You think he has a crush so soon?”

  “Ah, I remember my first crush.” Leo sighed longingly. “The first touch, the first kiss—”

  “So much pressure, that first kiss.” Slater shuddered. “I mean ninety percent of women base the entire relationship off how that first kiss feels. You could be a pro and just…” Another shudder as both of them locked eyes with me. “Choke.”

  I tugged at my too-tight necktie and tried not to look panicked. That wasn’t the feeling I had all weekend. The one I woke up with this morning. The permanent smile on my face because I knew I would see the woman in SPANX first thing this morning.

  “That’s.” I gulped. “False.” My voice cracked.

  Slater raised his hand. Leo high fived it like they were in fucking high school, and then off they walked, leaving me alone in the hallway wondering if they were right.

  No. I laughed to myself. Couldn’t a guy bring a girl coffee?

  Did Knox tell them I texted to ask for her drink?

  Shit.

  I half walked, half sprinted to my office, shut the door, and leaned against it. If Slater and Leo saw weakness they’d pounce, annoy the hell out of me, and on top of everything else, if I really did maybe, have a certain attraction, they’d let her know with the subtlety of a grenade.

  I placed my Starbucks cold brew on the table and reached into my pocket for my phone.

  “Come on man, you’re a pro!” I hissed to myself. I just needed to come across as non-threatening but not the type that we forced Leo to do where he went so non-threatening, I was concerned he was missing his dick.

  And I couldn’t play it like Slater did when he met my sister. That was a disaster before it even started! I couldn’t just maul the girl, then sneak into her shower and see if she wanted playtime!

  I made a mental note to chase Slater with my car again and thought about Knox. How had he started dating? When it was real? When it wasn’t a client that he was paid to make feel good?

  I felt all the blood drain from my face when I realized the last time I’d actually been on a date.

  Hadn’t been in college.

  All of that had been fake.

  And every single time I’d attempted a booty call—I’d turned my hands and mouth into the best possible weapon I had, fully exhausting the girl before she could ask why I wasn’t balls deep.

  “Shit.” I ran my hands through my thick hair.

  The last time I’d gone on a date.

  Had been senior year.

  Of. High. School.

  With shaky hands, I shot off a text to the only person who could not only help but also keep a secret like this.

  Me: Mayday, mayday, are you free for lunch?

  Aunt Nadine: ARE YOU LEAVING THAT FILTHY DEN OF INIQUITY AND COMING TO WORK FOR TITUS ENTERPRISES?

  Me: Your… um… all caps is on.

  Aunt Nadine: I KNOW, JA

  Me: JA?

  Aunt Nadine: Jack. Ass.

  I barked out a laugh.

  Me: So, lunch?

  Aunt Nadine: I SUPPOSE YOU WANT ME TO COME TO THE GATES OF HELL.

  Me: It would be easier for you to come downtown and pickup food en route so we can talk in my office—it’s… private.

  Aunt Nadine: I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT MY ENTIRE LIFE!

  Me: Um, lunch?

  Aunt Nadine: MORE BABIES! YOU GOT A GIRL PREGNANT! DON’T YOU WORRY I’LL BE THERE WITH BELLS ON AT NOON!

  Me: No, no, the bells aren’t necessary! Just come with some food. You wanted to see my new office anyway.

  Aunt Nadine: I’LL BRING MY PRAYER BEADS. NOW DON’T YOU WORRY!

  Me: No, really, it’s fine!

  Aunt Nadine: NOON, TOODA LOO!

  Okay, so maybe my first instinct was wrong because that woman sure as hell did have bells that her grandsons made her put on her ankles, so they knew when she was walking into the room, something about sneak attacks, and some things not being able to be unseen.

  Whatever got her here to help me.

  She wasn’t just wicked smart.

  She was a matchmaker. And a good one at that. I could casually ask her about dating, I mean, it would help with the app anyway, and at the same time I could try to organize my feelings over Jillian and her carrot eating ways into boxes that made sense.

  I grabbed my notes at about the same time someone knocked on my door.

  When I opened it, Jillian stood on the other side.

  She was holding the coffee I gave her in her hands. With a wink, she poked her head in. “Monday meeting time.”

  “Good coffee?” I blurted.

  “Oh, I gave the one you gave me to Slater. Something about his coffee tasting off this morning, and I felt bad because he seems to get really cranky when he doesn’t have his caffeine.”

  I clenched my teeth. “Slater?”

  “Yeah, he stopped by right after, poor guy said he was getting a migraine behind his eye and everything.”

  “Yeah. Poor guy.” I repeated. “So, what are you drinking in there?”

  “Oh funny, Leo ordered too many, so he gave one to me, isn’t that sweet?” She smiled so cutely that I had a hard time not smiling back while simultaneously imagining wrapping my hands around Leo’s neck.

  “Mmm, that’s just… our Leo,
isn’t it?”

  “So giving,” she added. “It’s just black coffee, nothing fancy, are you coming?”

  “Yup.” I grabbed my coffee and followed her out, attempting not to watch her ass in those amazing dark blue high waisted trousers the entire way to her spot.

  We all found our seats while Ian and Lex huddled together in the far corner of the conference room.

  Ian’s hair looked lighter than normal, and Lex just looked like a buff nerd who’d somehow been blessed with brains and the ability to make glasses look sexy.

  I would hate him if he wasn’t married—because my friends and I may have been molded after those two, but they were the OG’s of Wingmen, meaning they still had women chasing them down hallways.

  I mean, it seems to only happen during company parties, according to Knox, but still.

  While I was standing there daydreaming, all the seats filled, all the seats except the one next to Jillian.

  I pulled it out and dropped my notes on the table.

  She looked up with a small smile. I wanted to lean in and tell her that her orange-hued lipstick brought out her eyes, and then I second-guessed myself. Would she think I was insulting her?

  She seemed to think every compliment out of my mouth was an insult. I mean, the woman didn’t need SPANX.

  My eyes fell to her ass even though it was in a chair.

  “Finn?” Ian barked out my name. “Hello? Anyone home?”

  Jillian smacked me with a pen.

  “Sorry, sorry was just thinking about the grand failures of this last weekend.”

  Chuckles erupted around the table.

  “So, how did the app do?” He crossed his arms.

  “Well,” I leaned back in my chair. “My date was a carbon copy of what I’d picked out, the only thing that I’m trying to figure out is why the inside didn’t match the outside.”

  Ian cursed. “That’s been the problem, people can lie on the app intakes, so maybe she’s projecting what she wants in a partner in her own profile, making it so that she’s matched with someone like you.”

  “She talked about auras.” This from Jillian. “But she started off okay, more of a sorority type girl, but I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt and just say she was a bit immature, maybe Finn should find someone his own age?”

  She shot me a triumphant grin, and I suddenly wanted to retract all offers of friendship and coffee time.