Manwhore +1 (Manwhore, #2)(33)

They turn on the music and with “Sugar” by Maroon 5 playing, I keep prettying up for him, repeatedly brushing my hair until it falls down my back, as lustrous as glass.

For weeks, I’ve been alone, staring at my laptop, hearing its low hum. It’s quiet for the night, the reporter tucked away. Now, the one humming is me. I’m wearing a dress fit for a princess. Now my friends are fussing around me, pulling out matching bags and shoes.

Gina is being especially helpful. Gina, who’s been concerned about me getting my heart broken. “Now you’re all eager for me to hook up with the same guy you wanted me to stay away from? You’re Team Saint now?” I tease her.

She pauses. “I’m Team what makes you happy. And . . . well, from what Tahoe told me, yes.”

I roll my eyes. “You believe that man?”

“He loves Saint as much as I love you!” she says. “He didn’t enjoy your breakup any more than I enjoyed watching you mope. He said . . .”

“What?” I ask, my full attention on her.

“He thinks Saint is really into you because usually people only f*ck up with him once,” she specifies.

Wynn scowls. “What else did he say? If you’re going to be talking to him then you must tell us when you talk about Rache.”

“I only talked to him yesterday, and he said, and I quote, ‘Saint’s really into your best friend. Never seen him like this—ever.’?”

I never thought my sexy parts could blush but they’ve been blushing every time I think of him.

“What does Momma Rachel say? Does she know?” asks Wynn.

“Mother?” I laugh. Her name is Kelly, not Rachel, but the girls call her Mom or Momma Rachel.

“She wants to meet him. She’s excited that he came over. But I don’t want to pressure him right now, my momma will have to wait until we see where this is going.”

“Okay, let’s get real here though. Are you planning to sleep with him?”

“YES! Dude, YES, I PLAN TO SLEEP WITH HIM. I’M DYING TO!” I say, laughing with pure giddy anticipation.

“The car’s downstairs!” calls Wynn from the window, then she goes to the kitchen to ring him up, and peers into my room. “He’s coming up.”

“Okay.” Inhaling sharply at the news, I hurry to finish strapping up my shoes and get a sheer blue shawl from a closet.

“Hey, Rache,” Gina says, grabbing my hand. She looks at me and squeezes. “I’m happy for you, it’s been breaking my heart. Because I do have one, you know? Paul didn’t take it all, only the men’s part. But the girl’s part is yours and Wynn’s.” She looks a little emotional, her eyes glistening a little. “You know I don’t believe in love. But I believe in second chances, and this is yours, Rache. And you know, I kind of admire his persistence. He really seems set on getting you.”

I squeeze her hand, breathless at the thought. “You have no idea how he is when he’s after what he wants. Patient but so, so ruthless.”

She smiles at me, and I smile back. Dropping my hand, she heads to peer out the door. “Don’t open it yet, Wynn, she has to look perfect,” Gina orders, but seconds later, Wynn is the one we hear speaking.

“Saint, come in! She’s just about ready!”

I hear his low voice as he greets her and I’m not immune to the sound.

I’m in my bedroom, but through the parted door, I see a glimpse of a long arm in a black jacket, silver cuff link and white cuff—his hand at his side. Tanned and square, his long fingers idle. I feel a visceral reaction seeing that hand, those strong, knowing fingers, my body flushing in remembrance of how it feels when he touches me.

I take one last look at myself in a strapless blue dress that falls to my feet, with a long, sexy slit on the left side, the color bringing out the bluish shades in my gray eyes. My hair is loose and, because my shoulders are bare and I could get cold, I draw the matching shawl a little higher.

The nerves tangle up inside me as I step out and take in the full image of Malcolm. His back is to me, but I take a tiny pleasure in seeing the back of his head, his confident stance, the incredible amount of energy he seems to suck from his surroundings.

“Oh, there she is!” Wynn happily tells him, signaling past his shoulder.

He turns, one hand in his pocket, the other at his side, and I can’t help but notice how he makes a fist when he sees me. “Rachel,” he says.

A massacre of emotions sweeps over me.

I can’t fight the nature of my body, and though I want to look cool, I’m blushing bright red as I smile shyly. “Hey, Sin.”

I walk over, tentatively set my hand on his chest and, seeing the admiring way he’s looking at me, press up on my toes to kiss his jaw.

He touches my bare back and holds me in place, prolonging the time that my lips are on his skin.

“You ready?” he asks quietly into my earlobe, so only I can hear.

I nod and we say goodbye to the girls. He slips his large, square hand into my smaller one, and as he leads me out of the apartment, I turn and see Gina mouthing, “Ohmigod!” and Wynn, a big wide “AAAAAAA!”



When we reach the sidewalk, Otis opens the door of the Rolls as Malcolm gives him instructions. I’ve barely slid into the center of the seat when the door on the other side opens, and Sin slides onto the bench opposite mine.