“What’s up with the shorts?” he asked.

She looked down at herself. “I was behind with my laundry, and this was the only clean set left.”

“Weren’t you against Victoria’s Secret and their objectification of women?” Tyler retorted.

“I didn’t buy them.” Rose shrugged. “They were a present from Marcus.”

She said it casually, but he knew her well. He could detect the lingering sadness hidden behind that simple response. As a loyal friend, he ought to feel sorry for the abrupt way her relationship with Marcus had ended. Instead, Tyler couldn’t help but be relieved that Marcus had moved to LA and out of their lives for good. But now a new emotion had entered the mix—a fierce jealousy he’d never experienced before. He was jealous that Rose would wear something so not like herself for Marcus.

Tyler sat on the bed next to her. He took her right foot into his left hand, placed it in his lap, and started massaging her ankle. Time to switch on the charm and make Rose talk.

Three

Rose

Rose was extremely aware of Tyler’s thumb swirling around her ankle. How long had it been since he’d tried to sleep with her? Tyler had been “well-behaved” since that stupid night two years ago when she’d refused him in no uncertain terms. She almost flinched at the memory. At the time, she’d been so taken with Marcus that she’d been harsh with her best friend, treating him with contempt—and not in their usual playful way. Rose hoped Tyler had been drunk enough not to remember how badly she’d turned him down. But given that he hadn’t tried anything ever since, not even after her breakup, some of it must’ve sunk in. Before that night, his cute, double-meaning jokes and her constant turning him down had let Rose believe she and Tyler weren’t together by her choice. That if she only wanted, she could be his girlfriend. That he’d be different for her. But not anymore.

A tingle rose up her legs from where Tyler touched her with the tips of his fingers. It had been easier to say no to Tyler when he was hitting on her once a week. But now she was out of practice and vulnerable. Especially when he was standing in her room looking impossibly hot in sweatpants and nothing else. Rose’s gaze traveled over his naked chest and down to his sculpted stomach before she forced herself to adopt a neck-and-above only view policy. Not that staring at his face helped. With messy light brown hair, gray eyes, and lips to die for, Tyler was gorgeous. And he knew it.

“So what’s up with Georgiana?” Rose put her phone down and looked at Tyler expectantly.

“Oh, nothing,” he replied.

“It must’ve been something if she felt the need to call you ten times on a Saturday morning.”

“I’ve already told you it was nothing.”

“So why was she sorry about nothing?”

“Why do you have to always insist so much when it comes to Georgiana?”