I haven’t had attention from a guy in so long. Years, in fact. Or maybe I have, and I just haven’t been paying attention.

I’m hit on occasionally at the bar. But I haven’t been particularly interested in anyone.

No one’s made me feel like Mark and Elliot have. When I saw them, I was impressed with them. I was intrigued by them. I wanted them.

And this is the last thing I could have imagined happening.

“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done at work?” Mark says, leaning forward on his elbows, his eyes piercing mine. We are at a restaurant in the West Village, where the tablecloths and napkins are the brightest white I’ve ever seen, even under the dim lighting.

His words feel dirty to me. I think he’s asking me to divulge a secret, to tell him something naughty I’ve done.

And he looks so damn sexy right now. His arms are propped up on the table, and his suit jacket is hanging from the back of his chair. His sleeves are rolled up, showing off his muscular forearms, and his intense eyes and sexy lips are making me feel a little lightheaded.

“I’m not usually the crazy one,” I say, “it’s usually craziness that I’m trying to get under control.”

“Don’t scare her with your questions,” Elliot says. “It doesn’t matter what crazy shit she’s done in the past. Plus, a girl’s got to have secrets.”

“So you don’t kiss and tell,” Mark teases.

“No,” I laugh, shaking my head, “and anyway, there wouldn’t be much to tell.”

“Don’t say your first kiss was the two of us,” Elliot says, throwing me a gorgeous smirk.

“Very funny,” I say. “Not quite.”

“But you had another first today,” Mark says.

“So did you,” I smile.

The three of us are sitting at one of, if not the nicest restaurant I’ve ever been to. The mac and cheese isn’t just the kind of mac and cheese I’m used to. It’s lobster mac and cheese with truffle oil. The brussel sprouts have something called fleur de sol on them, and the wine is smooth and tastes like dry berries and is making me feel a little daring. Or maybe that’s the guys I’m with.

“I think there’s another first we should all talk about,” Elliot says. “Mark, we have got to get you onto a lane.”

“Oh, yes!” I say, turning to Mark. “You two have got to come by the alley for a game.”

“That actually sounds good to me,” Mark says. “They say there’s a first time for everything.”

“If you’re going to be in this business, you should have at least a rudimentary understanding of the game.”

“I agree with you, but in general I don’t know if that’s all that true. I mean, we own an amusement park and we don’t know anything about making funnel cakes.”

“Stop right now,” I say, “I don’t know if I can be with someone who doesn’t know how to make a funnel cake.”

I feel suddenly strange, as though my words have startled me.

I’m talking about being with Mark.

I didn’t mean to say that.

But when I was up all night last night, I wasn’t just thinking about their hands on my body, caressing my curves, kissing me, claiming me. I was also thinking about actually building something with them, working with them on the bowling alley, showing them things along the way, learning from them and having them teach me things, too.

“For you, I’d learn how to make funnel cake,” Mark says, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. God, he makes just sitting in a chair look seductive.

“What do you think of the food here?” Elliot asks casually.

I look down at my plate, where I’ve left not a crumb of our appetizers.

“Do I need to tell you how delicious everything is?” I say, grabbing my wine glass.

“So when should we come by for that game?” Elliot asks, taking a sip of his wine. Mark thoughtfully takes a bite of his mac and cheese and looks over at Elliot.

“How about tomorrow?” I say. “I am going to show you everything you need to know.”

“That’s perfect,” Elliot says. “We have a meeting in the morning with some contractors to build out our offices, but how about the afternoon? Say two?”

“Sounds great,” I say.

Is this another date, or business? Was tonight a date or business?

And did I really do what I did in the back of the car with them, or was that someone else?

I am under their spell.

I feel that I am being swept up in something that I can’t even begin to understand, and it’s scary. But as I take another sip of my wine and look from Mark to Elliot, smiling at me, I feel like they won’t steer me wrong.