Hands off his Dudette (Some Girls Do It Book 6)

by May Sage

  "Oh, good, given the fact that it took me a whole hour."

  She kissed her cheek, before moving to Lucy, then Cassie, her sister Helen, Cali, Tori, Erin, and Amelia.

  "So, no one has managed to convince Tessa to join us?"

  Tessa Michaels had only joined their bar-hopping once since Anna had started hanging out with the group a year ago, but she asked after her at every outings, perhaps because Tessa had made her feel normal. If Anna was a homebody, Tessa was a true introvert. She liked them well enough, but it was obvious that she counted the seconds before she could be reunited with her comfortable couch.

  Tessa was a good friend, however. She kept in touch online and always did her best to help when she could. Cassie wrote romance books and Tessa designed her covers, but it was just a part-time gig for the incredibly talented artist. A month ago, Anna had been panicking because one of her illustrators resigned toward the end of their deadlines. Anna had had a millions things on her plate and there simply weren't enough hours in the day to pick up the slack left by a critical artist at crunch time, so she'd reluctantly contacted Lucy, in her professional capacity this time. Lucy was the executive assistant of Carter Harris, CEO of Harry Toys, Cassie's fiancé.

  "We aren't going to make the deadline. There's no time to go through recruitment, or explain the project to another artist; we have under one week and even if I don't sleep every day, I can't finish my interactive book and the series of dolls Bob was supposed to get done. Can you reschedule the focus meeting?"

  "Hang on," Lucy had said, holding one finger up as she typed on the phone almost always attached to her hand.

  A minute later, she had Tessa on the other end of the phone line and twenty minutes after that, the woman appeared, in dungarees, hair unbrushed, a pencil behind her pierced ear.

  She saved their skins, and then some, in record time.

  "Actually, she's out of her house, for once," Cassie replied with a laugh. "She's attending a book convention—fantasy books, mostly, or I would have gone with her.

  Anna pouted. "I would have loved to go."

  Cassie shrugged unapologetically. "Which is exactly why no one told you about it. Firstly, Tessa needs to learn to do stuff by herself like a grown-ass twenty-eight year old should. Secondly, we need you here."

  Anna lifted a brow, raising her hand to catch a waitress's attention. "Oh?"

  "Yes," Lucy stated firmly, nodding for emphasis. "So, as you know, Carter and Trick had a stupid bet going on."

  Anna bobbed her head. "The last four percent of their business would go to the wife of the first of them who got hitched. I remember. They were drunk when they—"

  "Well, we've found a workaround," said Lucy. "We'll get married at the same time, that way we'll get two percent each."

  Anna beamed. "Congrats. When are you going to tie the knot?"

  "On Christmas Day."

  She nodded. "Not a bad date. It'll probably be rather expensive, but I'm sure you have the facts and figures. And you'll have a whole year to get ready."

  Tori Brown laughed like it was the best joke she'd heard all year. "Come on, sweet. You know better than to think it's going to be this easy."

  Anna blinked, confused.

  "This year. They're getting married on Christmas this year."

  Oh.

  "You're fucking insane," she stated, pointing out the obvious.

  Cassie giggled. "My family said they'll be there, and Carter's mom loves the idea. Trick's mom says she can't make it, which is kind of the point, and Lucy's family is more or less out of the picture. It should be doable. But we'll need all hands on deck, so to speak."

  And then some.

  "So, all of this to say, would you be my bridesmaid, pretty please?" Lucy asked. "Piper's my maid of honor, and Maya is going to be flower girl for Cassie and me."

  She'd been a bridesmaid once, for one of her cousin back when she'd been fifteen. She was pretty sure that this time, the job was going to entail more than binding herself in a ridiculous dress and showing up.

  Anna groaned. "How bad is it going to be? You're using a wedding planner, right?"

  Lucy nodded. "Yes. He's already found a venue that had a cancellation and sorted out the food. We're not going to need to run around too much. But there's food tasting, checking out the florists, selecting wedding gifts...it's a long list. We figured, if all of you could pick up like, one thing, we can get this done without any bloodshed."

  One item. That didn't sound so bad. Besides, now that they had submitted their creative brief, things weren't too crazy at work for a little while; there were no nights spent at the office in her immediate future.

  "All right. I'll do it. Of course, I'll do it," she amended. "And congrats. It's going to rock, you hear?"

  She was inundated with thank yous, and when the waitress finally turned up at their table, Cassie insisted on picking up the tab.

  Anna had always been a beer girl, but the girls had introduced her to little fruity cocktails that were as delicious as they were traitorous. They tasted like fancy fruit juice, and then, moments after finishing a third, Anna suddenly couldn't remember how to walk straight anymore. But one of them always remained stone cold sober during their evening out, to make sure everyone got home safely. This time, it was Piper. She often volunteered, because Piper didn't feel comfortable getting drunk; she had a seven-year-old at home.

  Anna had loved seeing her change over the last year. At first, she had volunteered every single time, never touching a drop of alcohol at all, but around April, she'd started to relax, drinking one cocktail or two when she wasn't the designated sober friend. Last August, Piper got properly tipsy once. Anna wasn't sure the woman had noticed that progression. She'd changed as her relationship with her partner became more serious. Piper had barely mentioned Bennet in the winter; by spring, she'd said boyfriend a time or two. In the summer, she'd asked the girls advice, because Bennet had asked if she and Maya would move in with him. That was in July. By August, she was entirely comfortable leaving her precious little girl to Bennet's care for an evening.

  Anna felt a small pang of jealousy in her chest. She couldn't help it. She'd never really felt the need to have a guy in her life, but that was before she'd started hanging out with women who had real relationships. She had to admit that she wanted some companionship like that.

  She generally knew better than to admit it out loud in this crowd, but three drinks in, Anna's mouth was spilling out things about online dating and stupid dick-pics.

  "I've come to believe that you girls have snatched up every decent man in the city," she said.

  Amelia, Helen, and Erin raised their glasses. "Hear, hear."

  "I call bullshit," Cali protested, rolling her eyes.

  The smallest among them, seeming shorter yet because she was one of the only ones not wearing heels—even Anna's Docs had a couple of inches—Cali was also the sweetest, with a round face, an adorable pouty mouth, and generous curves. Anna wondered if she'd ever heard her say "bullshit" before.

  "Amelia, you give a fuck off vibe, and act like you might eat their head off. Helen, you're a workaholic. Erin, most of the guys you meet are under eight."

  Erin was an elementary school teacher.

  "And Anna," she said, "even if you actually left your house more often, you'll never give a chance to a guy while being in love with your best friend."

  Anna's jaw fell. Her eyes widened. She'd never seen that coming.

  "Oh, that's low."

  Cali, still seemingly sweet, shrugged unapologetically. "If the shoe fits."

  She took a big swig of her cocktail, before protesting, "I'm not in love with Finn. At all. Just because you and Wren ended up together doesn't mean that every roommate should."

  "Of course not," said Cali, quite reasonably. "You shouldn't end up with Finn because you're roommates. Just because you love him."

  "I do love him," she replied. "Like I love Trick, and my own siblings, and even my annoying cousin."r />
  "Yeah, right," said Cassie, taking Cali's side.

  "Hey, off her back," Lucy said firmly. "She says she isn't in love with Finn, end of story. Don't annoy my bridesmaid."

  "We're all your bridesmaids," Piper reminded her. "But that's fair. If you want to date, rather than going online, how about you let me arrange something with my cousin? I don't see Nick often, but last time I did, he was saying it's hard to find women who aren't psychos in the city."

  Anna would normally have declined, based on the fact that she didn't like the kind of guys who called women psychos, but she had a feeling that if she did so now, she'd only make Cali insist that it was because of her feelings for Finn. Dammit.

  So, instead, she said, "Sure. Why not? Sounds great."

  Chapter 4

  Finn got home, exhausted and with a stiff neck at two in the morning. He'd have to get back to the office by nine the next day. Thankfully, he got paid time and a half outside of conventional working hours, so at least he'd see some benefit. Finn abhorred touching his family's money. It was bad enough that he still lived in a Johnson home.

  His pride didn't overshadow his practical sense. Why shove money at an extortionate mortgage, or worse, rent at NYC rates, when there was a whole house with his name on it, sitting empty, like the rest of their properties, because his mother refused to rent anything out?

  The house didn't suit his taste; it was too large, gaudy, and old-fashioned, with columns, high ceilings, fireplaces. He would have preferred a modern apartment like the one his brother had just purchased.

  But living here had allowed him to save up quite a bit of cash. He was lucky enough to have gone through college without needing a loan, so everything he didn't use could be put away. He could already afford a place now, but Finn would put away some more money before he bought a house. He wanted space; at least three bedrooms, enough room for a game room, a gym, and a room where Anna could do her yoga. She'd move with him, obviously.

  Finn grimaced, remembering when he'd explained all that to his brother, just a couple of days ago. Trick had laughed. "You're actually taking her needs into consideration when you're thinking about your house? Finn, the likelihood that she'd stay with you for more than a couple of years is pretty slim, you know."

  Finn had snorted.

  "Seriously. You need to wake up, and grow up. Anna is twenty-seven. She's going to want a family someday... "

  "She's never wanted kids," said Finn, irritated that everyone seemed to want to tell him what his best friend wanted, when he knew her better than any of them. "Not when she was nine, fifteen, twenty-one, and not now. She's practically had to raise her younger siblings, and she hated it."

  Trick didn't argue. "Fine. A husband, then. Or maybe just her own place. You have to stop thinking that she's going to stay with you until the end of time, because it's going to seriously hurt when you wake up."

  He'd heard that too often, for years, and Anna still lived next door, they still hung out every day, played games, watched movies.

  He was silent as he moved through the austere house. Passing in front of Anna's door, Finn stopped a moment, hearing her snore. He smiled. He'd known she'd get home before him. And a good thing, too: she needed a lot more sleep than him.

  He headed to his room, removed his shoes and dropped on his bed, still dressed. Taking his phone from his pocket, Finn browsed his favorite game store. Anna had saved their ass with that Chinese the previous evening. He owed her something that would make her smile. To his annoyance, she already owned just about everything that she'd want. For half a second, his tired mind wondered whether he should send her flowers. Most women liked them well enough. Fuck. He'd truly believed he knew just about anything about Anna, but he'd just realized he had no idea what her favorite flowers were. Funny. Whenever he dated a girl, it was one of the first things he found out, to make sure he knew what to send when they'd earned a treat.

  Take that, Trick, he thought. Obviously, that was proof that he'd never thought about Anna that way at all.

  Of course, this was a lie. He was a guy, after all. A time or two, late at night, he'd found herself noticing her, being conscious of every part of her body curled up next to him. She was beautiful, and it was entirely natural for him to react to it. Healthy, even. But each time, he'd reminded himself that it was his best friend, his dudette, and he'd ignored it.

  No flowers for Anna. Instead, he'd find something she'd truly cherish, something she'd keep.

  He smiled, remembering how much she'd enjoyed the latest Fantastic Beasts movie. As a proud member of the house Slytherin, according to Pottermore, Anna had loved seeing the qualities of her house emphasized for once. He knew she had robes, wands, Quidditch sweaters, scarves, and every other official Potter merchandise one could think of, but he didn't think she'd gotten around to raiding the latest movie's swag store yet. He placed a large order, picking up a few things for his own collection, first.

  Grow up, Trick said. What was the fun in that?

  When he was done, Finn set his alarm and passed out.

  Six hours later, his nostrils flared. Finn opened one eye, lifting his head out of his pillow, to find a small wrapped parcel and a steaming cappuccino on a tray. His stomach rumbled. He wasn't sure what was in the white wrap, but he smelled bacon, and butter.

  "I love you," he mumbled in his pillow.

  Anna laughed. "Don't let the girls hear you say so. They were insisting that I'm in love with you yesterday."

  "They can join the club," he replied, sitting up, and pulling the tray on his lap.

  She'd made the coffee, of course. Anna didn't do well in the kitchen, mostly because she didn't want to bother. The two or three times when she'd wanted to make an effort, she'd always cooked something really nice, surprising no one except herself. Anything remotely domestic made her feel like a child raising five kids again.

  She did, however, proudly make the best coffee in NYC. She'd purchased a grinder, and a complex coffee machine that had amounted to thousands of dollars, and every red cent was absolutely worth it.

  His alarm rang on his bedside table. Anna turned it off. "Another late night?" she asked.

  Opening up the packet to find a bagel inside, Finn nodded. "All week. Why, are you going to bring me food every day?"

  "Will you eat if I don't?" she challenged.

  Probably not. The assistants brought them lunch, but he rarely had a chance to eat on late nights.

  "Then, yes. I should bill you."

  "You should," he repeated. "Especially if you're bringing food for the whole floor."

  She laughed. "I was kidding. You're not letting me pay rent. Trust me, I still win in the deal."

  On that note, she retreated. Finn found his gaze following her back. She was wearing a sports bra, a tank top and form-fitting yoga pants, and well, the rear view was rather pleasing.

  Anna did yoga because her back, shoulders, neck, and hips had started to hurt a few years ago—she worked hunched over a keyboard, a tablet, or a piece of paper—and it had helped her manage the pain, but the exercise had done wonders to her figure. She'd always been on the slimmer side, but she had definition, and her curves were a lot more obvious these days.

  Fuck.

  His morning wood was turning into something very different. Trick's fault, for planting ideas in his mind.

  "Anna?"

  She looked over her shoulder.

  "Thank you for breakfast."

  Her grin was infectious.

  "You're very welcome."

  "And wear a coat today."

  She pouted. "My coat from last year needs dry cleaning. I've given my other ones away."

  "Well, take it to the cleaners, then. Wear something warm."

  "Yes, Mama," she replied, rolling her eyes.

  She needed a spare coat. He filed the information in his mind. Good thing Christmas was coming up.

  Chapter 5

  To his credit, Nick Stone didn't look or act like the type of person
who'd call women psychos. Piper might have paraphrased. He didn't seem the type to talk about women at all, because he had only one subject of choice: Nick Stone.

  "And then I caught the ball, although they were sure they had it in the bag. You should have seen their faces."

  She didn't in any way encourage his egocentric ramblings, but he didn't need an attentive audience; Nick simply seemed fond of the sound of his voice.

  She would have doubted that he was related to Piper, had he not looked a little like her, with his dark hair and beautiful eyes. He was quite a picture, really. Unfortunate that nature had seen necessary to balance it out and make him one of the most boring and self-centered people she'd ever met.

  Anna yawned. To her relief, their waiter arrived with dessert.

  She smiled at him, saying, "Thank you," as the twenty-something guy elegantly placed a beautifully plated deconstructed apple pie in front of her.

  Nick snapped, "About time."

  Not only megalomaniac: rude to staff, too. What a winner. Up until that point, Anna had been toying with the idea of taking him to a nearby hotel after dinner, because her vagina hadn't come out to play for a while, but Nick the Dick could have fun with his hand.

  She looked down to her dessert to distract herself from his incessant chatter. Presented inside a glass tumbler, the pie filling was topped with a ball of panna cotta and surrounded by a delicate crust cage. Anna sighed. It was almost too pretty to eat it. The food had been delicious, at least, so Anna didn't regret putting on proper clothes and some lipstick tonight.

  She pulled her phone out of her pocket and took a picture of the dainty pie, and immediately sent it to Finn.

  "Don't you think it's a little rude?"

  Anna looked up from her phone to find Nick staring at her, frowning. "Using your phone on a date, I mean. Millennials can't seem to do anything without their phones, these days. Society as a whole has grown entirely dependent on them."

  She blinked, still startled at being called rude by a man who'd spent two hours singing his own praises without so much as taking a minute to breathe.