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“I can’t very well kick you to the curb and have you jeopardize your career, can I? I don’t want that on my conscience.”

“Oh my God, thank you so much.”

With a squeal, she launches herself at me, and my arms instinctively go around her. I’m immediately reminded why this is a bad idea. She fits perfectly against me, her head coming just under my chin, my already stiffening dick nestled against her thigh. I can smell her shampoo—sort of minty and summery at the same time—and it’s driving me fucking crazy.

Yeah, this is going to be even harder than I thought. Way harder.

I give myself a second to savor the sensation, then step back, releasing her. “I’ve got to get to the club. I’ll call the doorman to help you bring your stuff in. And I’ll get you a key made while I’m out.”

“Thanks.” She stands on tiptoe to kiss my cheek. The innocent gesture turns me on more than an hour-long make-out sesh. “You won’t regret this. I swear.”

She bounds off in the direction of the door, leaving me shaking my head as I watch her sexy ass sashay away.

Won’t regret this?

Hell, I already do.

CHAPTER THREE

Connor

I’MINMYoffice all of five minutes, sitting at my desk booting up my computer, when Jake strolls in, looking like his dog died. Note that I said his dog, not his parents’ dog. He and his fiancée, Ainsley, met when Brie hired her to help take care of Roscoe, their parents’ gigantic, slobbery Irish wolfhound, while the elder Lawsons were on a world cruise. They’ve been back for months, but Roscoe’s still living with Jake—and now Ainsley.

I’m half convinced the whole thing was an elaborate set-up. Mrs. Lawson has wanted grandbabies for ages, and Jake, as the eldest child, would be the most the logical target for her motherly machinations. I wouldn’t put it past her to get a dog for the sole purpose of foisting it off on Jake in the hopes that it would help him meet the right woman. I mean, dogs are supposed to be chick magnets, right?

Jake slumps into one of my guest chairs, a piece of paper clutched in one hand and a cardboard cup with a familiar green logo in the other.

“You’re in early.” I’m the morning person. Jake usually strolls in around noon, especially now that he’s got Ainsley keeping him busy at home, but that’s okay with me. He’s at Top Shelf until the wee hours most nights, long after I’m tucked in bed. The set-up works for us. Jake the pretty-boy front man, mixing and mingling with the customers on the floor of the club and keeping everyone happy. Me quietly toiling away in the background, crunching numbers and making sure we stay profitable.

He doesn’t say anything, just scowls at me over the rim of his cup.

My stomach goes instantly into freefall. Shit. Does he know about me and Brie?

Wait, that sounds wrong. There is no me and Brie. And there won’t be, no matter what my damned dick says. There’s me, and there’s Brie, and there’s my more-than-enough-room-for-two-people apartment, where we just happen to be platonically cohabiting for the time being. Still, I was hoping I’d get the chance to explain all that to Jake before he jumped to the wrong conclusion.

“Who pissed in your coffee?” I ask, playing it cool and crossing my fingers he’s still in the dark about my new roommate. “Is there a problem with the renovations?”

We’re in the process of adding more VIP seating and a state-of-the-art screening room where we can live stream concerts and show first-run movies. Jake’s taken point on dealing with the contractors. Is it wrong that I’m half hoping another delay or overrun is the reason for his shitty mood?

He waves the piece of paper in his hand. “Brie moved out. She left a note and was gone before Ainsley and I woke up this morning.”

Okay, so no overruns. I didn’t think my stomach could fall any further. But it does. “Did she say where she went?”

“No.” Jake glares at the note, like he’s trying to intimidate it into giving up his sister’s location.

A little bit of the air creeps back into my lungs. “I’d think you’d be glad. Now you and Ainsley can do whatever the hell it is you guys do when you’re alone. Walk around naked. Netflix and chill. Pee with the door open.”

That gets a slight smile out of him, but it disappears as quickly as it came. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s great to have the place to ourselves. But I’m worried about Brie. You know how she can be. She’s not exactly the most responsible person on the planet.”

My skin tingles with the irrational need to defend her. “Brie’s a big girl. She’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”

“Really? Then why didn’t she bother to tell my parents where she’s at? I made the mistake of calling them, thinking they’d know where she was. And now they’re freaking out.”

“Give her a break,” I hedge, still not ready to admit she’s staying with me. If she hasn’t told them yet, I’m not sure she’d want me to. “It’s only been a few hours. She’s probably waiting until she’s settled in.”

His phone buzzes, and he pulls it out of his back pocket to check the screen. “That’s my mom. Again. Brie’s not responding to her texts or calls, so yours truly is left holding the bag. As usual. She wants to call the cops. She’s convinced Brie’s dead in a ditch somewhere. Or floating in the Hudson.”

“She watches way too much of those true crime shows,” I mumble.