Full Package(9)

Ohhhhhh.

I get it now.

I pretend to whisper. “You mean,” I say, taking my time to drawl out each syllable, “sex-u-al tension?”

Her cheeks flush. “No. I just mean awkward. I don’t mean that. Just that we’re a man and a woman living together. It’s just smart to be prepared for any . . . weirdness.”

“Just kidding, Josie,” I say, and drape an arm around her. “Things will never be awkward between us. But if they ever get that way, just say ‘Swedish Fish.’ That will be our safe word.”

“But then how do we defuse the tension?”

I tap my chin. “That’s a very good question.”

Neither one of us has an answer.

A few minutes later, we enter her building, head to the elevator, and shoot up six floors. As we walk down the hall, she gives me her preamble. “Both rooms are tiny. When Charlotte moved out to live with Spencer, Mr. Barnes gave approval so that we could have Wyatt turn the one-bedroom apartment into two bedrooms so Natalie and I could live here.”

She unlocks the door, guides me through the living room, and swings open the entrance to my new bedroom.

My eyebrows shoot into my hairline. It’s the size of . . . well, of a mattress. The bed is up against the wall, and if the other room is the same size as this one, that means my bed will be next to her bed.

One thin wall will separate us.

Talk about Swedish Fish.





5





My brother’s laughter booms across all of Battery Park as he greases the chain on his bike. A streetlamp illuminates his work. Morning hints at the horizon, but the sky is still the dark blue before the dawn. It’s five-thirty on a Friday, and we’re getting ready to ride.

I adjust the tire pressure on my bike as I jerk my head to look at Max. “What’s so funny?”

He wipes down the chain with a rag, making sure it’s well-oiled. “What you just said. That’s what is funny.”

“That I’m moving in with Josie?”

He nods several times. “Yup. That one. And I thought you were the genius in the family. But you must have forgotten to take a dose of common sense the other day,” he says as he spins the chain.

Max builds custom cars for a living, so this kind of pre-ride prep is part of his rule book. Besides, today’s training calls for thirty miles, and we want to make sure the two-wheelers can handle that. With this century ride coming up soon, we need to be ready. Hence the early morning start. We’re on a team that’s raising money for better medical care for veterans.

I stand, resting a palm on the seat of my road bike. “This choice is one hundred percent common sense. We’ve been friends forever, and we both need a place to live. Besides, you kicked me out.”

Max stands, too, rising to his full height. I’m a tall guy, but he’s taller than my six feet, and broader. He’s basically the definition of intimidating, especially when you add in the big muscles and the dark eyes. But he’s a total teddy bear to me and always has been, so the big hulking look doesn’t work.

He points at my chest. “I did not kick you out. I told you that you were welcome to stay in the lap of older brother luxury as long as you wanted,” he says, gesturing behind him to the sweet-as-sin high-rise building he lives in. I already rode a few miles downtown to meet him here.

“Nah. Too far from Mercy. Josie’s closer. Only takes me ten minutes to get to work from her place, instead of thirty from here.”

He claps a hand on my shoulder. “I hardly think the extra twenty minutes each way is worth you shacking up with a girl you’re hot for, man. That’s crazy.”

I scoff. “I’m not hot for Josie. I’ve been friends with her forever.”

He fixes me with a steely stare. Fine, he’s not all teddy bear. Sometimes he’s a hard ass, like when he tries to give me his serious eyes. “Do you or do you not think she’s hot?”

I raise my chin. I can hold my own under his inquisition. Besides, the answer is as easy as pie. A delicious cherry pie, like the one Josie made for me a few weeks ago. “I do think she’s hot.” He smirks, but I hold up a finger to correct him. “On a purely scientific, empirical basis.”

He shakes his head like he doesn’t believe me.

“Let the record reflect I have never done a damn thing about it. And that’s because I’m highly evolved. I can admire a woman’s appearance without wanting to get in her pants.”

Max claps me on the back. “Then I hope you and your purely scientific appreciation of Josie’s physical attributes have no problem being in such close proximity to all those empirical assets of hers,” he says, grabbing the helmet from the handlebars and snapping it on with one hand. He straddles his bike.

I mount mine, too. “Why do you think I can’t handle living with her? I like her. She’s awesome.”

His laughter answers me again. “Because you flirt with her incessantly.”

We pedal away from the park, heading toward the Hudson River Greenway with a handful of other early-morning cyclists.

“And yet, I have somehow amazingly never come on to her. Don’t you think if I was attracted to her, something would have happened at least once in all the years I’ve known her?”

He shakes his head as we pick up speed, riding side by side on the path now. “No. Because now you’re kicking it up a notch, and there’s this thing that happens when you pour gasoline on something and then light a match.”