“What?”

“Carol and Taryn are out front. Get down.”

I put my head between my knees. “Aah, they’re going to see me.”

“They won’t.” He pulls out at high speed. “Keep down.”

I actually wish Taryn would see me. That would teach her show-off, hot, roller-skating ass.

Henley pulls out and, with a quick wave to the neighborhood watch program, speeds past them. “Stay down,” he tells me.

I’m crumpled up in a ball. “Are we past them yet?”

“Stay down.” He grabs the back of my head and pushes me farther down.

“Aah.” I swat his hand away. “You’ll break me in half.”

“Not yet,” he mutters under his breath as he drives.

“What did you say?” I sit up.

“Nothing.”

But I heard him, and I roll my lips to hide my smile.

Please.

We drive along in silence for a while. My mind is running at a million miles per minute.

I have a plan, and I know it’s not a smart one.

But it’s a plan.

I want to get to know Henley better, and he’s afraid of commitment. I’m thinking that if I can just create a safe space for us to get to know each other . . . Without the pressure of expectation, who knows what may happen?

“So”—his eyes flick over to me—“what’s the deal with your interior designer?”

Really? We’re getting to this already?

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “He asked me out, and I’m considering it.”

“If you like him, why didn’t you just say yes?”

“I’m not looking for a relationship.”

His eyes flick over in question.

“I’ve actually been thinking about getting on Tinder to try and find a friends with benefits situation.”

“What?” He frowns, shocked.

“I just don’t want a relationship.” I act casual. “I want to focus on work and fixing up my house,” I tell him in my practiced speech.

What I really want is time to try and figure him out, but I can’t tell him that without scaring him off.

“No,” he snaps.

“What do you mean, no?”

“I don’t want you to have a regular booty call.”

“Why not?” I frown. “You do.”

“That’s different.”

“How is it?”

“Well . . .” He shrugs as if searching for the right words. “It’s just sex to me, and you aren’t like that.”

“How do you know? You thought I was an engaged adulterer a week ago.”

“I wonder why.” He widens his eyes.

“Well, I don’t see another option. I don’t want a boyfriend, I don’t want to fall in love, but I miss sex.”

His eyes flick over to me. “I know what you’re doing.”

“What?”

“You want me to offer you my dick for your own personal use. That is not happening, Juliet.”

“What?” I act horrified.

That’s exactly what I want.

“Don’t be ridiculous—we’re neighbors.” I look out the window as I act casual.

He twists his lips as he stares through the windshield.

“Anyway”—I shrug—“I’ll work it out. Joel thinks it’s a good idea.”

His eyes flick over to me. “You’ve discussed this with him?”

“We were just talking about sex, and it came up.”

“You were talking about sex with your interior fucking designer?” he barks.

“Why not?” I snap back. “I’m talking about it now with you.”

“That’s different.”

“How is it different?”

“Because.” He wobbles his head around as he searches for the right words.

“We went on a date and made out and stuff.”

His eyes flick over to me. “You fire him. He’s not to come back to your house. Ever.”

I roll my eyes. “We did not make out. We pretended to make out, Henley.”

He narrows his eyes as he stares back at the road.

“Anyway.” I smile sweetly over at him. I put my hand on his thick thigh. “It’s okay. I’ll figure it out.”

“What did he say?”

“What did who say?”

“When you told that dickhead that you wanted a friends with benefits situation, what did he say?”

“He told me that if I ever asked him, he would be more than happy with that arrangement.”

“I bet he did,” he sneers.

“I’m not going to ask him,” I add. “I have to work with him. It would be weird.” I try to dig myself out of the hole. Oh crap, I really am going to have to fire Joel now. Henley can never see him again.

“Anyway.” I squeeze his thigh. “It’s not your problem. You’re probably saving yourself for the love of your life to come along. And so you should too.”

His jaw tics in anger, and I roll my lips to hide my smile. It’s a wonder my nose isn’t a foot long, with all the lying I’m doing.

We drive the rest of the way in silence. I’m secretly high-fiving myself for sticking to the game plan and being so brave. And he’s probably thinking about ways to stuff me into the body bag.

The car pulls into the circular driveway, and the doormen rush to open our car doors. “Are we getting out here?”

“Yes,” he mutters distractedly. He passes the keys to one of the doormen. “Be careful with it, please.”

“Of course, sir. We will bring your bags to the room.”

“Thank you.” Henley takes my hand in his and leads me through the lobby. The hotel is fancy and over the top, with marble everywhere. “Two rooms in the name of Henley James, please.”

“Yes, sir.” The male concierge smiles. His eyes linger a little too long on Henley, and I feel my stomach twinge with jealousy.

He’s holding my hand, you know?

Jeez, some people.

He types into his computer and then passes over two keys. “Here you are, two rooms, as requested.”

“Thank you.”

“Have a nice stay.”

Henley leads me to the elevator, and we get in and turn toward the doors.

“He was checking you out,” I whisper.

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “I don’t think so.”

“I know so.”

“How would you know what checking me out is?” he mutters dryly. “You don’t do it.”

I giggle. “Does it bother you?”

“No.”

“It does.”

“I just don’t understand why you would tell an interior designer that you want friends with benefits.”

“Because I do, Henley.”

“I’ll buy you a vibrator.”

“Fine.” I hold my hands up in surrender. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t know how to make it any clearer: I need a man to take care of my needs. Nothing more and nothing less. You are reading into it too much.”

His dark eyes drop to my lips, and then, as if remembering where he is, he turns back to face the doors; his face is solemn. “When are you seeing him again?”

“Who?”

“The designer,” he spits.

“Oh my god, will you drop it?” I whisper angrily.

We get to our floor, and we walk down the wide and fancy corridor. He passes me a key. “Six o’clock.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’ll come and get you.”

“Okay.”

We stare at each other; an unspoken feeling runs between us. He’s battling with jealousy and wants to explode, and I have to say I’m totally into it.