Sidney didn’t know what the hell was going on.

She’d spent the entire night lying awake, wondering why Brett had put the brakes on when it came to last night’s make-out session and whether her new figure had anything to do with it. After she’d offered herself up on a platter and he still refused her, what else could it be?

He’d said he wanted to take things slow. But weren’t things like that something guys said when they weren’t all that interested? She’d read He’s Just Not That into You before. Even saw the movie. Now she felt like she was living the scenario in her head.

If he’d rather take you to dinner than to bed, he’s just not that into you.

Then again, this was Brett she was talking about. Her Brett. And he’d never once treated her like that before. So maybe he really did want to take things slow like he’d said. And if that was the case, she appreciated the notion. Honestly, that was probably for the best anyway.

She’d called Charles that afternoon to let him know that Valerie had texted her that she’d found his keys and he could pick them up at the bar. Then she broke the news that she just wasn’t that into him…except she did it much more nicely than that. He hadn’t really seemed all that worried about it, which actually was a little insulting since he had been the one who’d acted like such a dumbass on their date.

But whatever. At least she wasn’t nursing a hangover. Karma sometimes had a way of righting the wrongs of the world.

The faint roar of an engine rumbled in the air, and her heart flatlined.

That had to be Brett since she wasn’t expecting anyone else, but he’d arrived a few minutes early. She glanced in her full-length mirror and smoothed the wrinkles out of her white silk blouse and black pencil skirt before sliding into her strappy heels and heading to the door.

The moment she opened it, her breath caught in her throat. Brett leaned against the doorjamb with both hands, wearing a pair of distressed jeans, a fitted black Henley, and a pair of steel-toed work boots. Even the wicked smile he wore screamed of a bad boy who was about to deflower a virgin…which only made her wish she was still a virgin.

“Hey, Sid. You look great.”

She smiled. “Thanks. So do you.”

He nodded a thank-you. “Ready to go?”

“Yep.” She waited for him to move aside and then stepped out the door, pulling it shut behind her. “So where are we going to dinner?”

“You’ll see,” he told her, grasping her hand and leading her out to his truck.