Trina smoothed her dress over her hips and turned sideways, to get a better view of herself in the mirror on her closet door. The blue matched her eyes, and the fabric hugged her body in all the right places and showed off way too much skin to be comfortable in a colder climate. Another reason to like Malibu.

The first reason would be here in about ten minutes, and she couldn’t sit still. This was the five-billionth time she’d checked her clothes and hair. Would Spencer like her look? Did she want him to?

Duh.

She had no idea what they were doing tonight. Not only the details, but the general concept. She’d re-read her texts after she got some sleep, and had no idea how he’d deciphered what she was asking for.

The point was to learn how to catch the eye of, and hook up with, a guy who wasn’t a creep. Someone who was fun. That’s what she meant to ask for help with. How was Spencer—or anyone—going to teach her that?

It was going to be fun finding out.

A knock at the front door sent her heart into her throat, and she forced herself to not run to answer.

She peeked through the peephole, and her pulse raced faster at the sight of fish-lens-view Spencer, in jeans and a T-shirt with a sports jacket tossed over it. She opened the door.

He gave a sharp whistle as he dragged his gaze over her, and her skin heated to scorching. “I don’t think you need my advice about a hook-up,” he said, studying her. “Everyone is going to be watching you.”

Probably not the women. They’d have their eye on her date. Which was fine with Trina. “Is that your way of backing out?” She kept the playfulness in her question. Was she flirting, or trying not to? She had no idea. Her brain was already swirling in that chaotic party he caused in her head.

“Nope. Not backing out. Someone has to stay by your side and make sure people keep their hands to themselves until they’ve given the real you a chance.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t erase the silly smile from her face at his attention. “I thought I left the overbearing chaperon back in Utah.”

His brows creased, and the corners of his mouth tugged down, but the weird look vanished before she could interpret it. She wouldn’t bring Tristan up again, indirectly or otherwise.

She grabbed Spencer’s hand and tugged him into the apartment. As long as she didn’t think about it, it was easy to act natural around him, but the moment she let her mind linger on a simple action like this, she questioned if it was too much. The jolt that ran between them at the touch doubled down on her doubt.

“I’ll grab my purse, and we can go.” She dropped his hand and spun away at the same time. With one foot, she kicked the door shut, then hurried to her room for her heels.

Another knock filled the apartment, as she returned to the living room.

“Are you expecting more company?” Spencer’s ghost-frown was back.

“No.” She looked through the peephole. Fish-lens Tristan stood on the other side. Are you fucking kidding me? What was her brother doing here?

She answered, then realized she should wipe the shock off her face. She pasted a grin on instead. “Hey. I didn’t expect you.”

“I asked if you were free.” Tristan’s eyebrows rose as he glanced at her dress.

Please don’t let him be obtuse about this. “I thought you were being polite. Concerned. You should have followed up with, because I’ll be in town.” Might as well get this over with. She stepped aside to let him in and followed his gaze to where it landed on Spencer.

Words stalled in her throat. It wasn’t like she was doing anything wrong. Her brother’s friend was taking her out on the town, to teach her how to get laid.

Right. Because she was going to tell Tristan that.

“You’re two days early.” Spencer stepped forward, saving her from having to think of out-loud words.

Tristan’s frown didn’t shift. “And you’re not.”

“Trina’s been doing some work for us, and she’s part of the crew wiring the new building. We bumped into each other, she mentioned she didn’t have plans tonight, and I knew you wouldn’t want her going out alone.”

It sounded so innocent and altruistic when Spencer talked about it. Was he smoothing things over for Tristan, or was that really how he saw the evening? As a way to keep her out of trouble?

Tristan’s expression relaxed. “You have room for one more?”

“Always, for you.” Like she could tell him no. Especially now. She grabbed her purse. “We’re on our way out, unless you want to hang out here a little longer.”

“Out is good,” Tristan said. Every few seconds, he’d shift his weight or fidget with his watch or tug at his tie. He was having as difficult a time standing still as she was.

“Did you have a location in mind?” Spencer asked.

“Any place that lets me forget I’m almost forty.”

Some of the flitting faeries in Trina’s head slammed into each other at the blatant reminder Spencer was more than a decade her senior. Not that it mattered, because he wasn’t here to hook up with her.

Deep and throaty and sending shivers down her spine, Spencer’s laugh made her wish he was. “Dude, you’ve been going on forty for a couple of decades.”

“Fuck you too.” Tristan didn’t sound offended. “I was thinking dancing and loud music.”

“You were?” Trina couldn’t keep the disbelief from her voice. Her brother was a lot of good things. He was also uptight and reserved to a fault.

Tristan’s look said he wasn’t amused by the jab.

She stared back with the same flat expression.

“There’s a club a few miles from here. Exactly what you’re looking for.” Spencer stepped between them.

“I’m in,” Tristan said.

Trina wasn’t sure she still was. Life wouldn’t be nearly as fun, with her brother watching her every move. Then again, if that was all Spencer planned to do—

Her phone rang, disrupting her thoughts, and she grabbed it. “It’s work.”

“Tell them to fuck off. You’re not on call tonight.” Spencer’s response made her smile.

Tristan’s scowl contradicted it. “Take it. We’ll wait.”

She wasn’t sure if she wanted it to be an emergency or not, if this was an indicator of the rest of her night.

It was Mason, asking for information about a call she’d taken earlier in the week. She gave him what he needed, told him she was sorry he had to work tonight, and hung up.

When she turned back to Tristan and Spencer, they were in the middle of a conversation. She did her best not to stare at Spencer and how good he looked. “All settled, we can go,” she said.

“Great.” Tristan looked at Spencer. “Two cars, so you don’t have to come back here at the end of the night? You know where it is, so we’ll follow.”

“Fantastic plan.” Was that disappointment in Spencer’s voice?

It couldn’t be. Trina only imagined he reacted to the idea the same way she did.

She and Tristan made small talk on the drive. How was work? Was there any place fun he should see while he was in town? Had he gotten some good boarding in this season?

He’d been an Olympic snowboarder, silver medal in freestyle, when she was nine. His career ended a few months later, when he tore a hamstring during practice. That didn’t explain the odd, wistful look that crossed his face when she asked the question, though.

The conversation faded after that, and Tristan seemed to climb inside his own head. Odd.

They had to park a few blocks from the club, and Spencer suggested they stop for dinner before they did too much drinking. He knew a noodle place not too far away.

It was crowded, with the line wrapping out the door. As they waited, the ambient chatter made it easy to not think up more random conversation. She didn’t mind the excuse of having to press close to Spencer, to make room, either. Not with the way his arm brushed her back or shoulder ever few seconds.

“Snag us that table.” Tristan pointed her toward a spot at the far end of the room that opened up.

“Sure. Order me something that looks good? You know what I like.” Trina reluctantly extracted herself from the coziness of the line and scurried to snag a seat before someone else did. It turned out waiting wasn’t too bad, either.

In the bright restaurant lights, watching Spencer from a distance rather than the up-close they’d been each time they talked, she got the full picture. That was nice. As in really.

Fifteen-ish minutes later, they joined her, and Tristan set a bowl in front of her. “Chicken. Extra hot.”

“Thank you, big brother.” Saying the sing-song words was a habit she’d missed a little since she got here.

They dug into their food, and she did her best to keep from drooling broth on herself. How was someone supposed to eat like this without making a mess? Not that she’d ever cared before, but tonight, it mattered.

“So. The new Star Wars movie,” Spencer said.

Trina plugged her ears. “La la la. I can’t hear you. No spoilers.”

His chuckle was worth it. Deep enough it undercut the noise and flowed over her skin. She’d do a lot to hear that sound.

“You haven’t seen it?” He sounded surprised.

She didn’t want to admit she hated going to the movies alone. Or more specifically, she didn’t need him knowing she didn’t have anyone to go with. “Not yet.”

“We should go to... make sure you find time. You’ll love it.”

She turned the odd sentence over in her head, trying to figure out why he’d said it that way.  “Maybe Tristan will take me while he’s here.”

Tristan looked at her, his expression blank. “I’m sorry—what?”

“Nothing. Go back to wherever you’re living right now.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Tristan poked his food and sectioned off about three noodles.

Distracted was weird for him. It made the awkward air hovering around them feel charged with another layer of anxiousness. Was he stuck so far in his head he wouldn’t notice if she flirted? Did she know how to flirt? Was she the only one who cared?

If the rest of the night was going to be filled with so many questions she made herself dizzy, maybe she should call it a night.

She glanced at Spencer, to find him looking back. He winked when she met his gaze.

Or not.

What was she doing?