"I know what you're thinking." Dean jumps—actually jumps—up to the counter. He motions to an empty spot of ceiling. "It's not enough."

It's a lot. The shop is decked—Happy Birthday banner over the entrance, black balloons bouncing against the roof, giant mocha chocolate cake stacked with candles.

Hunter chuckles.

Then blushes.

Oh my God.

It's so…

He's so…

It's wrong how hot he is.

How impossible it is to hate him.

"Yeah, that's exactly it." Walker chuckles as he nods hello. "Happy birthday."

He offers Hunter a hug.

Hunter accepts it. Barely even looks awkward.

Walker turns back to his girlfriend. Wraps his arms around her.

Iris looks as stylish as always in dark wash jeans and fuck me pumps. But fuck me, I'm a dirty secretary pumps. Not fuck me, I'm in the clubs for a one-night stand heels.

They started as a fuck buddies thing earlier this year. He fell hard. She resisted.

She had a secret, one that caused a mountain of drama, but they got through that.

And now they're…

They're more dirty than cute.

But they are cute too.

Iris turns to me. "You really do throw a party, Emma."

I shrug like it's nothing.

Her expression gets sheepish. "I wish I hadn't ruined the one you threw for Walker's birthday."

"Don't worry about it." It was memorable. "Besides, that was more Dean."

Dean chuckles. "It was all him." He nods to Walker, who shrugs I guess it was. He and Dean are best friends. They fight sometimes and constantly give each other shit, but they're clearly close.

"The main thing I remember happened right over there." He nods to the office, where they once had very loud sex.

It was his birthday.

But still…

I don't need to hear that.

"What do you think, sweetness?" His lips brush her ear. "Want a repeat?"

Her blush deepens. "Later."

"Can you veto this?" I turn to Hunter. Try my best to pretend as if I'm totally relaxed discussing sex with him. "Make it your birthday wish."

"Fuck that. I want my free audio porn." Dean's voice booms. "The amateur stuff is the best."

Leighton makes a show of rolling her eyes. "He mentions that five times a day." She greets me with a hug. "You okay?"

I nod. "Long day at work."

Leighton worked here for a long time, but we were never really friends. Friendly, sure. But she's like everyone else here. Her loyalty is to Brendon first.

"If you want to talk…" She pulls back with a smile. "Well… I'll probably be gushing over my boyfriend. But you can always pull me away." She turns back to Ryan and blows him a kiss.

He catches it and presses it to his chest.

She giggles like a schoolgirl.

It's cute.

But disgusting.

That's enough love for one night.

I'm glad my friends are happy. Really.

But I can't stomach their romance right now.

Not with Hunter standing right there, pretending like he isn't wanting me, refusing to explain why we can't be together.

I go through my hellos. Everyone from the shop is here except for Chloe.

"Where's your shadow?" I ask Dean.

"I like to imagine her in her bedroom," he says.

"That's gross."

"Is it?" He raises a brow. "Or is it so hot your panties are drenched?"

I shake my head.

"You want me to go into detail?" He motions to Walker. "Or call my boy over? Get him narrating his last tryst?"

"Is it a tryst with your girlfriend?" I ask.

Dean shrugs. "You think I know shit?"

"You're smarter than you let on," I say.

He chuckles. "Am I?"

I nod.

"Hate to break it to you, but it doesn't take a lot of brainpower to connect these dots." He motions to my chest. Then to Hunter.

Who's still pretending he's not watching.

"You look hot as fuck," Dean says. "Pretty sure your mission is working. Assuming your target is turning twenty-eight today."

I try to copy his coy shrug, but I don't pull it off.

Okay. New subject.

Anything but Hunter.

Even if he is staring.

Even if his attention sets me on fire.

Even if I desperately want him to tear my clothes off.

I turn back to Dean. "You have to be careful with Chloe. Ryan will kill you if you scare her off."

"Ryan's been waiting for a reason to kill me since I was born."

"Oh?"

He nods. "It's some fucked-up Greek tragedy shit."

"Haven't heard that one."

"Then Disney shit. Like The Lion King."

"Like Hamlet?"

"Yeah. Kill me. Take my place."

"Yeah, Ryan really wants to be the court jester."

He presses his hand to his heart. "Oh, Em, you don't mean that." Dean's gaze shifts to something behind me.

I don't have to look to know.

My Hunter sense is tingling. He's moving closer. And, fuck, am I really making comic book references in my head?

I'm already in too deep.

"Damn, Em, without your brother here, we can get into some real shit." Dean flashes me an effortless smile. He nods hello to Hunter. "What are you thinking?"

Hunter surveys the scene carefully. "What kind of shit do you normally get into, Em?"

"The usual. Drugs, sex, mayhem." I try to make my shrug casual, but it's really not happening. My body is magnetically drawn to his. "I better start. Get a drink."

Dean motions after you then turns to Hunter. "You want something."

Hunter shakes his head. "Not right now."

Dean shrugs suit yourself.

It's funny.

Hunter used to drink a lot.

Now, on his birthday, he's refusing booze.

I tell myself it doesn't matter.

That I don't care what he does or why.

But the thought still bounces around my brain.

What the hell is his deal?

I let Dean pour me a rum and coke. Shift into bantering with my friends.

Dean teases about playing Never Have I Ever.

Leighton rolls her eyes and settles into Ryan's lap.

Walker makes dirty jokes until his girlfriend is blushing.

Everything is okay. I'm with my friends. I'm laughing. I'm buzzed.

Then the door swings open.

A guy with gorgeous blue eyes—the same as Hunter's—steps inside. He runs a hand through his sandy hair. Flashes me a panty-melting smile. "You must be Emma."

"Wes?" God, he's exactly as Hunter described him.

He nods. "The one and only."

I offer my hand to shake.

He takes it, bows—really bows—and places a kiss on the back of my hand.

I giggle. "Not sure this is the occasion."

He straightens himself. "It's always the occasion for theatrics." He holds up an enormous wrapped package. "Where can I put this?"

I lead him to the counter.

It's not flush with presents, but there is something from everyone.

We want Hunter to belong.

To believe he should be here.

He…

I…

Ahem.

Wes's gaze shifts to Hunter (he's still pretending he's not watching). "Can I tell you a secret, Emma?"

"Sure."

"Thought you sounded hot as fuck when you called Blacklist."

"Oh. Thanks." My gaze flits to Hunter for a second, then it's back on Wes. "I mean, that's kind of weird, since I don't know you—"

"You were at our place once. For a party," he says. "You were little. Ten, maybe."

"Oh. With the basketball hoop in the pool?" I ask

He nods. "Exactly."

"What is it about this place? Why all the rich parents?"

"Nepotism."

I can't help but laugh. "True." There are a lot of friends and blood relatives working here, myself included.

"Looked at your Instagram," he says. "You've got nice tits."

My cheeks flush. My body is devoted to Hunter, but Wes is charming. For a second, I forget that everything is fucked. "Thanks."

His gaze shifts to my chest for a moment, then it's back on my eyes. "Is that working?"

"I wore this dress because I like it."

"Right." He leans in to whisper in my ear. "You need help making him jealous?"

"I don't know what you—"

"Yeah, you do."

Okay, I do.

It's stupid.

It's petty.

It's completely necessary.

"Okay," I whisper.

Wes brushes my hair behind my ear.

His fingers linger on my neck, my shoulder, my arm.

It's not like with Vinnie.

But it's not like with Hunter either.

The pretense is obvious.

"Look at him," Wes whispers.

I do.

He brushes my hair behind my ear. "He wants to deck me."

"Something tells me that's a typical thing for you."

Wes's laugh bounces around the room. "Yeah. But Hunter stole my thunder for a while."

"Did he?" I bite my tongue. I have to play this cool. To pretend like I know what Hunter did. That's my only chance of getting info.

"Yeah. You must know what he's like by now."

"Brooding and difficult?"

Wes chuckles. "That what you like about him?"

"More his abs."

"Lots of guys with abs in the world."

"Like you?" I offer.

"Yeah, but you're not my type."

"I don't believe you."

He laughs. "That obvious?"

I nod. "Why… why are you the only one from Blacklist here?"

"I'm the only one who wants to see his face."

My gaze flits to said face.

He's not hiding his stare anymore.

He's not hiding his jealousy.

His brow is furrowed. His eyes are wide. His hands are fists.

It shouldn't feel good.

But it does.

This is all I can get from him.

"That good?" Wes asks.

"Yeah."

"We need to escalate?"

Probably, but I can't handle that. "No. I think this is enough."

He raises his voice. "Fuck, Emma. You gotta give a guy a warning before making a proposition like that."

"Do I?" I raise mine too.

"Yeah. But if you insist…" He steps back enough to offer me his hand.

I go to take it.

Hunter marches over.

Stops me.

His fingers brush my wrist. "Can we talk?"

I stare at Wes like I'm madly in love with him.

I'm not. But he's hot, tattooed, and devil may care. It's easy enough pretending.

"About what?" I try to keep my gaze off Hunter, but my eyes betray me.

"Now," he says.

Hunter and his brother share a look. I'm not sure what they're saying, but it must be meaningful, because Wes turns to me and nods a goodbye.

"Call me, Emma." He winks. "I've got no problem being sloppy seconds."

Hunter shoots his brother a get real look.

Wes shrugs and joins the conversation on the other side of the room.

Which leaves me and Hunter alone.

He motions to the now clear back office. "There."

He's not saying let's go someplace where I can fuck you.

But that's exactly what my body hears.