“Three in July.” Like I could forget: the breakup was the catalyst for my move here. Jane was devastated when his fiancé left him, but in typical New York fashion, the practical took priority over the emotional. He needed to split his suddenly doubled rent with someone. I was reeling from my own crisis and jumped at the opportunity to move cross-country and start fresh.

I’d only met Jane twice before then, through my cousin in LA. But when I lugged my few boxes into the apartment, I was stunned at the change. He drifted around like a ghost for months, and it took him the better part of a year to get back to the brilliant creature he is. Even now, he’s reluctant to plunge into the dating pool. He’s dabbled in hookups and casual dates but hasn’t gotten excited over anyone since his ex. Wielding Nina tonight is a huge step for him, even if Charles doesn’t bite.

Ming frowns. “Come to think of it, you don’t reel ’em in either.”

That look from Darcy scorches through my memory, and I resist the urge to peek past the curtain again. “Maybe because someone makes me stock pasties when I could be otherwise occupied.”

“Oh?” Ming’s frown turns into a salacious grin. She holds a hand to her chest and steps down from the chair. “Far be it from me to interfere with a lady’s pursuit of booty. Go get yours!”

I lift my chin, embarrassed to have admitted my intentions but determined to have them realized. I take one last peek at the landing—

Charles and Darcy are out there!

I hold a finger to my lips and wave Ming to the curtain. I point out Charles. “The blond,” I whisper. “He’s the one Jane sang for.”

“Jane does love a Norseman,” Ming whispers with approval. “But who is the sex god beside him?”

Indeed, this is the first time I’m seeing Darcy at his full height, and “sex god” about covers it. He’s removed his suit jacket, and I admire the broad shoulders and trim waist. He also has the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to the middle of his forearms. I don’t know what it is about that look, but oh, yes, please.

“Mine,” I tell Ming.

Another filthy smile. “Reconnaissance?”

Absolutely. I twist the dimmer switch to turn down the already faint light in the alcove, and we strain to listen.

“I just don’t get the allure,” says Darcy. “Especially for you.”

“Are you kidding? This is brilliant! And the singer—Jane? Sensational. That was . . .” Charles shakes his head. “I don’t have the words. That was sex.”

I pump my fist, and Ming whispers a singsong “Jane’s gonna see Thor’s hammer!”

Darcy doesn’t say anything, and Charles sighs.