Tired of being perpetually single, Brit turns to her best friend Hunter for help better understanding what men want, only to discover that she wants, may in fact…be him.
A game of seduction between two best friends goes deliciously wrong in an irresistible Oxford Novel that brims with wit and sexual tension. Library Journal hails Layne’s work as “exemplary contemporary romance.”
Brit Robbins knows that dating in New York City is hard—she just hoped to have it mastered by age thirty. But after yet another promising suitor says they have no sparks, Brit decides it’s time to torch her dating game and try a new plan. And who better to coach Brit through the art of seduction than the guy who first gave her the “let’s be friends” card?
Hunter Cross has always figured there’s nothing his best friend Brit can do to surprise him. But Brit’s request is a surprise he doesn’t see coming—and one he’s /definitely/ not prepared for. Hunter and Brit have always been careful to keep things perfectly platonic, but the fake dates and faux flirting are starting to feel like the real deal. And soon Hunter realizes he has taught Brit /too/ well. Not only has she become an expert at seduction, the man becoming thoroughly seduced is him.
“How is it possibly your business who I date?”
“I’m your friend.”
“Yes, but right now you’re overstepping.”
Brit gentled her tone slightly. “You’ve never cared about who I pursued before. Why is this so different?”
“Because now I know of your … plan. And I don’t think Bradley Calloway is right for you.”
“He doesn’t have to be right. I’m not looking to marry the guy. Or even date him. I was just trying my hand at being anything other than good ol’ Brit, you know?”
“I like good ol’ Brit!”
“Well, damn it. I want someone to better than like me, Hunter!” she shouted.
The room seemed to go still, and she wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised by her outburst.
“Brit,” he said quietly.
“Don’t,” she said, her head dropping slightly. “You don’t have to say anything. I just … I need to do this. I feel like I’m at a crossroads, not only because guys don’t seem to fall for me, but because I’ve never experienced that thing that other people seem to when in a relationship. I want—”
She broke off, stopping short of telling him that she wanted to know what it was to feel all-consuming lust. To want someone.
It was one thing to tell her girlfriends that over a couple of glasses of wine, but confiding such things to a guy, even her best guy friend, felt a little … weird.
“Sorry about my reaction,” he said grumpily, leaning back and resting his palms on either side of his desk, his fingers drumming in a way that she knew meant he was deep in thought. “It’s just … Calloway treats women like shit. I can’t stand the thought of him walking on you.”
“You say that, but—”
“Look, Hunter,” she said, starting to feel really over this conversation. “I asked you to help; you said no. You don’t get it both ways, ’kay? You can either help me out, or you can stay out of it.”
Hunter’s jaw tensed, his fingers drumming faster. “So, if I agree to help, you practice that weird eye flutter on me instead of other dudes?”
“Well, first of all, it wasn’t weird,” she said defensively. “Maybe only to you because you’re not used to it.”
“It was weird. You looked like you had something in your eye.”
Okay. That was quite enough.
And because his petty dig wasn’t worth a verbal response, she pinned him with a withering glare before pivoting on her heel and turning toward the door.
Hunter caught up with her, touched her arm. “Hey. I’m sorry. That was a dick thing to say.”
“Yup.” She reached for the doorknob without looking at him, and his hand slid from her biceps down to her wrist, closing around it lightly.
She went very still at the contact. She and Hunter touched all the time, casual, whatever, touches that she didn’t even notice.
For some reason she noticed this one. Noticed the emotion behind it.