“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Hunter didn’t look up from his laptop as Cassidy came into his office.

“Putting together our weekly stats for the presentation this afternoon. Per your request.” Hunter kept his eyes on the screen.

His boss shut the door with a bit more force than the standard Cassidy-control allowed for. “That’s not what I’m talking about, and you damn well know it.”

Hunter gritted his teeth just for a moment to keep from snapping that while Cassidy was indeed his boss in work matters, he had no authority in Hunter’s personal life.

Because there was no doubt in Hunter’s mind what Cassidy wanted to discuss. Who he wanted to discuss.

Still, he understood that his friend meant well, so he pivoted his chair toward Cassidy and smiled as benignly as he could.

“So, I take it you and Emma talked,” Hunter said.

“You mean did my wife and I have a discussion about two of my employees having their tongues down each other’s throats? Yeah.”

Hunter took his glasses off and carefully folded them up, putting them inside their case. “And?”

Cassidy closed his eyes for a moment, then tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. When he looked at Hunter again, his green eyes were laser-sharp. “I don’t like fraternizing between my employees.”

Hunter couldn’t stop the incredulous laugh. “Seriously? Your office is nothing but one big fraternization.”

Cassidy crossed his arms. “Admittedly, Oxford does seem to be a hotbed for romantic entanglements. But this is different.”

“How?”

“Because it’s you and Brit,” Cassidy said. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that that’s . . .”

“What?” Hunter said on a challenge.

Cassidy scratched his cheek. “There are some who thought it was a long time in coming. But I thought you had more sense than to mess with her.”

“I kissed her. I admit it’s complicated, given that she’s my direct report, but how is that messing with her?”

“So it stopped there? With the kiss?”

Hunter’s eyes narrowed. “Cassidy. I like you as a friend, I respect you as a boss, but that’s not your business.”

“I knew it,” Cassidy said with a sigh. “You slept with her. So, are you guys . . . a thing?”

“Again, not your business, but if it’ll get you to shut up, no. We’re not dating. It was just . . . sex. Between friends.”

Cassidy looked at him like he was a moron. “Damn it, man, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I had sex with an attractive woman. Not a crime.”

“Not for you, maybe. But have you thought about the effect this will have on Brit?”

“She’s my best friend,” Hunter retorted. “I think I’ve got a pretty good sense of how things affect her.”

“Exactly. She’s your best friend, so I’ll ask again. What the hell are you doing?”

“We’re adults,” Hunter said, standing as his temper began to approach a boil. “Brit and I’ve got it figured out.”

Cassidy shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you? You think of her as just a friend. She thinks of you the same. But did she or did she not come to you for help because guys always seem to keep their distance?”

“How is that my fault? If anything it’s yours,” Hunter said. “You’re the one who treats her like Oxford’s resident Betty Cooper. You ask her to show the new kids around like she’s the damn girl next door. As a result, everyone treats her like she’s good ol’ Brit. If anyone’s given her a complex, it’s you.”

“Bullshit,” Cassidy said, stepping forward, his finger pointed at Hunter. “That’s bullshit. This is on you, Hunter. You know why guys don’t stick around? You know why they keep bailing on her? Because everyone thinks she’s yours. You declared her off-limits the second you named her your best friend, or whatever.”

Hunter’s head snapped back. “What the hell? I don’t think of her as mine. Brit doesn’t think of herself that way either.”

“Not consciously, maybe,” Cassidy said, his hand dropping to his side. “But trust me when I say that anyone who’s seen the two of you together has been figuring it’s only a matter of time. You think any guy wants to fall for a woman whose best friend looks like you? Who has sleepovers with you?”

“That’s—”

“Tell me. Is there any correlation between her getting dumped and her boyfriends’ meeting you?”

“I—”

Hunter wanted to protest, but Cassidy’s comment forced him to consider. He supposed there’d been a couple of times when a guy had ended a relationship with her soon after Hunter met him, but—

“We’re just friends,” Hunter muttered. “I’m sure she tells the guys that.”

“Yeah, because that’s how guys operate. Very rational, and not at all territorial when it comes to women,” Cassidy said sarcastically. “Listen, I’m not saying you’ve done anything wrong in the past. Guy–girl friendships are tricky regardless of the parties involved. But no man wants to fall for another man’s girl, and that was before you slept with her.”

“It was just sex!” Hunter shouted. He lowered his voice at Cassidy’s warning look. “If it’ll reassure you, go talk to Brit. She and I are on the same page with this. It was a fun weekend fling, and now we’ll go back to how we were before.”

“Which is what? Her constantly getting rejected by men because they don’t want to compete with you? I’m under the impression that she wants a serious relationship. Marriage, kids, the whole thing.”

“She does.”

“And what do you want?”

“The same,” Hunter said slowly. “Eventually.”

“But not with Brit.”

“Brit’s life is here in New York,” Hunter said. “I don’t plan to be in the city forever. It’s why I’ve never really gotten emotionally involved with anyone here. I’ve always figured I’ll try my hand at the serious-relationship thing once I get back home.”

“Does Brit know that?”

“Yes, my best friend knows of my plans to return to Kansas City someday,” Hunter said sarcastically. “Is there a time limit on this lecture? Because if not, maybe you can record it and I can listen to it later, or never.”

“Fine,” Cassidy said, holding up his hands in resignation. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out. Just . . . think about what I’ve said. Put yourself in the shoes of the guys she’s dating, then take a hard look at why she’s still single.”

“Sure. Whatever,” Hunter said, trying to keep his tone light and dismissive, even as doubts began to take root.

Was Cassidy right?

Was Hunter the reason guys never seemed willing to give Brit a chance?

Cassidy turned away and opened the door, nearly colliding with Brit as he exited.

“Oh! Hey, Cassidy!” Brit said cheerfully. She held up a bakery box. “Donut?”

“No. Thanks,” he said in a clipped tone, with a last warning glance at Hunter.

Brit stared after him with a bemused expression. “What was that about?”

Hunter rubbed his hands over his face, and Brit gave him a curious look. “Were you two fighting?”

“I don’t know. Does anyone fight with Cassidy, or do they just get condescended to?”

“He can be bossy,” Brit admitted, coming toward his desk and setting the donuts on it before picking out a chocolate one and taking a bite. “But annoying as it is, he’s usually right.”

“Not about this he wasn’t.” I don’t think.

“What about?” she asked, taking another bite.

He glanced at her, then smiled a little because she had chocolate on her lip and didn’t appear to notice or care.

He started to reach out a hand across the desk to brush it away, then stopped himself, a bit stunned by the instinct.

“You’ve got . . .” He gestured to his mouth, and she wiped it away, licking it off her finger in a way that had his groin tightening.

Fuck. Fuck! Maybe this whole back to platonic thing wasn’t going to work after all. He wanted her. Still. Badly.

Though it seemed to be one-sided. Brit seemed to have way more erotic feelings about her donut than about him.

“I knew you were going to bring them to the meeting,” she said smugly. “And you got enough for extras. Well done, you.”

“Because I knew I’d never hear the end of it if I didn’t.”

Only a partial truth. He’d stopped on his way to get the damn donuts because of her. For her.

To make her smile.

Hell. What if their friendship was holding her back? Holding them both back from finding someone else?

He cared about her way too much to let that happen.

Hunter picked up his cellphone and shot off a quick text to Mitchell Forbes, who’d become a good-enough friend through Julie for Hunter to have his phone number. He sent the message.

“So, you’re not going to tell me what you and Cassidy fought about?” she asked, polishing off the donut and staring wistfully at the box before closing it.

Hunter didn’t reply. In typical Mitchell efficiency, his friend had replied within seconds with the answer Hunter needed. Not the answer he wanted, but . . . it was what he needed. What he and Brit needed.

Hunter pulled a sticky note off a pad and scribbled down the information from Mitchell’s text. He handed it to Brit.

She took it and looked down in confusion. “What’s this?”

“That guy from the party. Jon. It’s his number.”

She looked up. “And?”

“And . . . you should call him.”

Brit narrowed her eyes. “What’s this about?”

He rubbed his hands through his hair. “Cassidy thinks you can’t make it work with another guy because of me.”

She laughed. “Well. He definitely thinks highly of you.”

Hunter didn’t smile back. “Is he wrong? I usually meet your boyfriends pretty early on. Do they break up with you soon after?”

Her laughter disappeared. “You’re serious.”

“I don’t know. I just . . . I know how guys work, and I know if I was seeing a woman who was as close with another man as you and I are, I’d be . . . wary.”

She held up the sticky note, her face expressionless. “And you think Jon will be different?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not. But at least you can address any concerns that he might have. Reassure him we’re just friends.”

“Who slept together,” she said flatly.

He flinched. “Maybe don’t tell him about this weekend.”

“A really excellent way to start off a new relationship. With lies,” Brit muttered.

“You can tell him eventually, but there’s no reason to volunteer it. It’s not like he’d start off the first date telling you about the last woman he slept with.”

She looked down at the phone number, a frown on her face. “You really want me to call him?”

No. Hell no. I want to haul you around to this side of the desk, see if your mouth still tastes like chocolate. . . .

“Yeah. Why not? We did say we’d resume your seduction training, did we not?” He smiled—it was forced—and she didn’t return it.

She carefully, precisely placed the Post-it on top of the closed donut box, running a finger along the sticky part at the top to secure it. Then she picked up the box with both hands and turned.

“Where are you going?” he asked, feeling irritated at her departure. He wasn’t done talking to her. Looking at her. Being with her.

She shot him a cool smile over her shoulder. “To do as my boss instructed. I’m going to call Jon.”

Brit left his door open as she walked out, but it didn’t matter. Because Hunter had the strangest sensation that another door had just been closed.