“So how does it feel?”

“Nice,” I confess. “Certainly better than actually getting it done.”

Shiloh laughs. “Yes, the price we women pay for beauty.”

It feels odd talking with Shiloh about the recent wax job I got, which it shouldn’t since she was the one to recommend the place. Apparently, I’m the only girl in New York without a Brazilian. But now, every bit of hair is gone. It was strange to look at afterward, but I can’t deny how much more enjoyable it was when I put my underwear back on.

I wonder what it will be like if Rhys orders me to take them off again tonight. A smile creeps to my face at the thought.

“So, was it done in preparation for what you supposedly didn’t do last weekend?” She asks with a teasing smile.

“Don’t be silly,” I say, hoping my face isn’t giving anything away.

Rhys was right, it does feel better now that I’ve revealed who I really am, now that he knows all about my past. In retrospect, it seems silly to have held it back so long. In the realm of potential secrets, it’s actually pretty harmless. Even his big revelation was potentially more problematic than mine. Except I trust his word, so in essence, it isn’t.

I have no idea what he’s going to tell me tonight. Whatever it is, I know we can work through it.

Either way, I’ve learned that there are people in this world I can trust. I look at Shiloh, who is assessing my outfit and rethinking, yet again, whether or not these shoes of hers I’m borrowing are the best fit for this dress. After tonight, I’ll tell Shiloh about who I am. At least I know she’ll keep it from Caryn, whom I’d die before telling.

“Hmm, you need just the right shoe. Something he can work with,” she says, twisting her lips as she looks down at the black, towering things by some Italian designer I can’t pronounce. “Maybe something more festive!”

She walks over to her wall of shoes and pulls out a pair with butterfly wings on the back. They’re lovely and all, but look like they belong in a museum, or as part of a Halloween costume.

“I’m going to dinner, Shiloh, not starring in the Wizard of Oz.”

“Oh Prynne, you have no idea how important shoes can be. Especially—” her cheeks color and she looks off to the side. I think it’s honestly the first time I’ve ever seen her come close to blushing. Usually, she’s so cool and self-composed. She shakes her head and turns back to me with an overly bright smile “At any rate, you want it to be just right.”

“Nothing is happening tonight!” I protest with a laugh.

“Okay,” She retorts, rolling her eyes with a look of utter disbelief.

“It doesn’t matter, he’ll be here soon. I’ll just make do with these,” I say, looking down at the shoes already on my feet, wondering how I’m going to even make it to the front door.

As if on cue, the doorbell rings. I feel my heart seize, then start beating twice as fast. This is it. Tonight’s the night!

“Breathe, girl,” Shiloh says, laughing as she places her hands on my shoulders and looks me in the eye. She leads me in a few deep breaths until I’m relaxed again.

It’s just Rhys. Yes, Rhys with the ridiculously sexy voice who can make a woman melt inside just by saying hello. But also the Rhys who sends stupid photos of my underwear watching the Knicks game. The Rhys who can turn anything into a sexual innuendo, enough to make me laugh. The Rhys who transforms into something dominant and commanding when telling me to take off my dress in front of the window.

I feel my heart beat race again. It only accelerates when the doorbell rings again. Fortunately, Shiloh is too annoyed to notice.

“What the fuck? I suppose we should expect that Caryn can’t be bothered to open the door,” Shiloh says with a scowl. “Especially now that Eric is back in the picture. I swear, it’s like a carnival ride with those two. On again, off again.”

“Let’s go,” I say, grabbing her hand and dragging her out of the room to the front door.

Caryn and Eric are on the couch, her head in his lap as they watch one of those superhero movies where the characters all get together to destroy a city. The two of them don’t even bother to turn it down as we enter.

Eric whistles in appreciation as we pass. At first, I think it’s for Shiloh, who, even in some lace-trimmed tank top and satin shorts, looks spectacular. Then, I realize it’s just to tease me.

“Lookin’ good Missouri,” he says, shooting a taunting grin at me. Caryn elbows him in the thigh, which I find odd. Usually, she’s the first to laugh at his stupid nicknames for me.

Shiloh reaches out to turn off the TV completely. “Since you two insist on being rude, I’ll return the favor,” she snaps.

They both voice their protest, which she patently ignores as she does the honors, opening the door just as the third ring echoes in the suddenly quieter living room.

“Hello, Rhys,” she says with syrupy sweetness as she opens the door for him.

“Shiloh,” he says, grinning at her as he enters.

I stand there, suddenly realizing what it must feel like on prom night, something I never personally experienced. Or maybe, even on one’s wedding day, something I definitely haven’t experienced. I’m nervous and excited and absolutely smitten when I see Rhys, even though he’s wearing the same casually cool, hip clothing he’s worn on every date. Seriously, the man can’t look bad.

“Caryn,” he says nodding down at my other roommate, who simply responds by tossing a piece of popcorn in her mouth. He gives a passing smile and nod to Eric, who seems to be sizing him up in that way that guys sometimes do.

Not even close, I think to myself with a smug smile.

Finally, Rhys’s attention is on me. “Wow, you look good enough to eat.”

I feel my feet begin to wobble. Curse these heels! It’s no wonder they’re called stilettos, they could quite literally kill me. Both Shiloh and Rhys react at the same time. She comes over to prop me up from behind. Rhys closes the distance in two long strides to reach out and take my arm.

“Careful there. I’m the one who’s supposed to sweep you off your feet. You know…flowers, candy, hugs and kisses. That sort of thing.”

Oh, my beating heart.

“Motherfucker.”

Even though it’s muttered under his breath, the three of us turn to look at Eric with looks ranging from amusement (Rhys), irritation (me), and this-close-to-walking-over-and-boxing-his-ears (Shiloh).

“Care to repeat that?” Shiloh asks in a way that dares him to do just that…and then face her wrath.

He just ignores her, staring at Rhys with a mixture of awe and excitement. “You know who you sounded exactly like? Say that again, hugs and kisses.”

Rhys just stares at him, but there’s something in his eyes that’s dangerous.

“You know that show with Mr. XO? You sound exactly like him. Say something like, what’s it—lovers and haters, sinners and saints?”

“No.” Rhys’s voice is curt and now the danger is written all over his face.

“Holy shit, you are him! Motherfucker, I knew it!”

Caryn lifts her head up from his lap, mostly because Eric has practically forced it off to stand up and point at Rhys.

“You got the wrong guy, man,” Rhys says, his face immediately transforming into something softer as he chuckles and shakes his head.

“No, no, too late now.” Eric is hopping in place. “You’re him! You’re the guy. Mr. XO, I’m sure of it!”

“Oh, my effing God,” Caryn says as she slowly sits up on the couch to stare, mostly at me with a creeping, malicious grin. “You’re right. It is him. I can’t believe I didn’t notice before!”

“Right, babe?!” Eric says.

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Shiloh finally asks, her hands on her hips.

“Sex on the Line?” Eric says, as though everyone should know what that means. “With Mr. XO? Every Thursday night? Great show, by the way, man,” he adds, pointing at Rhys like he’s just scored a touchdown at the last minute.

I turn to Rhys, still completely confused.

Except, he doesn’t look confused at all. He just looks pissed off.

“What’s he talking about, Rhys?”

Before he can respond, Caryn is up off the couch to stand next to Eric, not even bothering to hide the snide glee in her face or voice. “Good grief, it’s no wonder you two don’t know about it. It isn’t like you’d have any use for it.”

“Oh yeah, now it all makes sense. The whole virgin episode this week,” Eric says, turning to her with that usual dumb look on his face.

“The what?” Shiloh is the one to say it, but it expresses my feelings perfectly, especially with that outraged bit of sass in her voice that she does better than I ever could.

“Nothing,” Rhys growls.

“Oh hey man, I didn’t mean to cock block,” Eric says, raising his hands apologetically. “Is tonight the night?”

“What?” I feel my face burn. I have no idea who Mr. XO is or what Sex on the Line is referring to, but I have a damn good idea that I’m the butt of some horrifying joke or prank or something.

Caryn laughs, absolutely reveling in it.

“Oh man, you are totally busted,” Eric says, now seeming to find the humor in it as he picks up on Caryn’s laugh.

“Shut the fuck up, both of you,” Rhys says. His voice is low, almost a growl. His blue eyes are dark and deadly. It’s enough to not only shut the two of them up, but have both of them cowering in surprise like frightened rabbits.

“Meanwhile, you start talking,” Shiloh says, now turning her anger on Rhys.

He ignores her, bringing his attention around to focus on me. Even though I can feel my face burning hotter than Hades itself, I lift my chin to face him. “I’d like to know what’s going on as well.”

I can see the conflict in his eyes before he sighs. “That’s what I was going to tell you about tonight.”

“What is it? Who is Mr. XO?”

“Maybe you two should have some privacy,” Shiloh says, giving a meaningful look to Caryn and Eric, as though that would do anything to get them to miss out on witnessing this.

“No,” I say, setting my jaw as I continue to stare up at Rhys. “Everyone else seems to know what the hell is going on, they might as well stay.”

“Caryn,” Shiloh says, completely ignoring me. “If you and Eric don’t get your asses into your bedroom, I’m telling both the landlord and your boss all about your little pot-smoking sessions in that hidden spot in the back alley.”

The entire room is now filled with the tension of multiple showdowns facing each other. Caryn and Shiloh stare at each other like cats with their ears folded back and claws out. Eric looks like a mouse caught in the middle.

They are completely lost in the background of the one between Rhys and me. He’s waiting for their dust to settle. I don’t particularly give a damn. If he doesn’t say something soon, I’m certain I’m going to scream.

“Fuck this,” Caryn says, finally backing down. She already has her minor victory. Even though I only have the faintest idea of what’s about to come, I’m sure it’ll be enough fodder for months of little jabs and idle taunts in passing. “I can’t wait to get out of this fucking apartment.”

“Oh, hell!” Eric says as they leave, “You know what this means? It—”

“Shut up!” Caryn whispers in a violent hiss.

I’m still only half listening. I barely even feel it when Shiloh places a hand on my shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll be right down the hall in my room.” That’s more a threat toward Rhys than a reassurance for me. I know who I can and can’t trust.

Or at least I thought I did.

“Now, talk,” I say, once both doors down the hall are firmly closed.

Rhys looks at me, his eyes suddenly as calm as a lake after the wind has finally settled. I can actually see the weight being lifted off his shoulders. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out, but they were right. I am Mr. XO.”