“Hey, are you listening to me?” Cynthia prodded Colton’s large shoulder. They sat at his messy desk upstairs in what passed for his office. She was trying to go over the outline she’d come up with in a cloud of misery and desperation. By focusing on work, she’d managed to block out how much she missed Noah. To stall on the decision she knew must come.

Colton blinked, shook his head a little, and shifted, leaning closer to the computer screen. “Yup.”

“It’s foolproof, I guarantee it. I’m borrowing from something my team did in one of my jobs. That was an amusement park, but it’s similar. I’ve tweaked parts, of course, and embellished others. Don’t think you’re just getting run-of-the-mill work here; I wouldn’t do that to you. Also, these graphics are rudimentary. You really need a digital designer—or Janie—to spruce them up. Oh. And part of the plan is to use Janie for all she’s worth. The murals will draw a crowd in itself. She has a big name, or Chris Perrin does. You need to use it. And if she tries to say no, just send her to me. She owes me after all the trouble she caused acting as my aunt’s accomplice. I’ll never live down bringing a friend like her over.”

Colton frowned at the computer screen before looking down at the graphics for the ads she’d done. He shook his head slowly. “I get what you’re saying, mostly, but there is no way I’m going to be able to carry this out. I still haven’t worked through the other list you gave me, and you seemed to think that was a snap. I don’t have any experience in marketing.”

“Well…” She leaned on the desk. “If you don’t mind me taking the lead on this, I could get it going for you. The only problem is, I’m not great about stopping and getting approval for each thing I implement.”

Relief crossed Colton’s face. “Fine, whatever. Do your thing. Just keep the business in a positive light.”

“Obviously. Branding is one of the items in the outline. I gave you two directions, but maybe I should do up some proposals so you can see them in action.”

“Right…” Colton pushed back from the desk. He was definitely not as into all of this as she was. “I don’t have a lot of room left in my budget, so we’ll have to work out some sort of payment schedule—”

“Nah.” She isolated her papers, pushing away the rest of the mess on the desk. She hated clutter when it came to her workstation. “This is a good challenge for me. I’ve put some nearly unreachable goals in here. Usually it would take a whole team to pull this off, but I think I can do it. I’ve got nothing else to do.”

“I insist on—”

“Stop annoying me.” She waved him away.

He stood and checked a flashy watch on his wrist. Her stomach pinched as she realized where the money for that watch had probably come from. All the things Janie and Madison had been saying rolled through her head. All the answers to her questions about how the BD thing had affected their lives and relationships, good and bad. Like randomly meeting an ex-client and watching them gush (bad), or reaping the benefits from all their partners’ experience in the sack (beyond good).

She sighed. “Can I ask you something, Colton?” talking over his mumbled, “Four o’clock. I need to figure out food soon.”

He paused in turning toward the door, the contemplative frown from a moment before clearing instantly. “Of course. What’s up?”

“Why did you, and everyone else, decide to be hookers, of all things?”

He stared down at her for a moment before retaking his seat. A cockeyed grin lit up his face and his blue eyes sparkled with humor, a reaction she hadn’t expected. “It was a joke at first. Some older woman at a bar was hitting on Ethan, and when she realized she wasn’t getting anywhere, she offered to pay him for the night.”

Cynthia’s mouth dropped open. “That’s gross.”

Confusion crossed Colton’s face as he studied her. “We thought it was hilarious.”

“I’d be incredibly insulted, and the guy would’ve found himself wearing my drink.”

Colton’s expression cleared. The grin came back. “That’s the difference between men and women. Women are beaten down for that kind of stuff. But there really isn’t a precedent for men. If a woman wants to have sex with us, we are ecstatic. To also pay us? Hell yeah!” He started laughing. “That was back when we were all single and didn’t give a damn. It gets old, though. I got tired of it. I tried to back off of the sex stuff, but…it wasn’t working out. I was about to give my official resignation when I heard about Madison’s request for a date for a wedding. She’d tried to reserve a guy who was no longer working for us. The information she filled out was so funny, I couldn’t help but take the gig. And the rest is history. Best impulse decision I’ve ever made.”

“Do your families know?”

“No fucking way do our families know. Are you kidding?” He gave her a comical frown. “We’re dumb, but we’re not that dumb. My parents almost found out, but Madison created a good story about a friend playing a prank.”

“She told me. I’m going to use it for my sister.” Cynthia sucked on her bottom lip. “I’m not going to lie—this whole thing weirds me out.”

“It is definitely not normal. And if the four of us really thought it through at the time, we wouldn’t have let Dick set up the website.” He shrugged. “But as you’ve heard from the girls, if you’d taken an escort date from one of us, you would’ve seen that it wasn’t seedy or creepy or anything. Our job was to play a part. We listened, we chatted, we kept the conversation going and impressed whoever our client needed to impress.”

She drummed her fingers on the desk. “I just keep coming back to the fear that Noah isn’t what he seems. I mean, he seems straight-edged. Mr. Do the Right Thing. Mr. Silver Spoon. I cannot see a guy like him doing that.”

“That’s because you’re viewing it from a different lens. Honestly, to us, this was all one big joke. I can’t say it enough. Women were paying a bunch of single guys to take them on dates and have sex? Like…are you kidding me? We’d spent our whole post-puberty life up until that point trying to get dates and sex. Then, all of a sudden, all we had to do was wait for them to come to us?” He laughed. She couldn’t help but smile with him. “The cosmos is laughing, I guarantee it. Laughing. I mean, sure, it sounds bad, but we weren’t worried about it. Until it got old. Then we found girls and settled down without a problem. Noah is certainly the most conservative one of us, and he never balked. It just never occurred to us, or the women hiring us, that it was a big deal. Like the guys from Thunder from Down Under or Magic Mike—women love it, and we love them. Good enough for us.”

Cynthia was giggling by the time he was done. She wiped her hair from her face. “You guys are so dense.”

He put up his hands. “Yup.”

Seriousness stole back over her. “Be honest with me, Colton. If I were to get back with Noah, do you think I’d have reason to trust him? Did I read him wrong this last week?”

Colton put a hand on her shoulder. “I swear to you, this was not a normal situation with him. He was terrified that he’d lose you. He wanted to get all his ducks in a row before he broke the news—the website down, the waiting list canceled, his courage up, everything. He’s the kind of guy who likes to plan. Not impulsive. So he was working up to it, but the timing wasn’t great. And we all know he should’ve told you before you moved to Sacramento. He knows it, we know it, and you know it. So that’s something you guys need to work out, if you’re willing. But as far as his character, he is a stand-up guy. I’d trust him with my life and my family. Take that for what it’s worth.”

She flicked away one tear, and then another. Before she knew it, Colton was hugging her tightly as she sobbed against his chest. She wanted to silence the nagging voice telling her to be wary. She wanted to forget everything that had happened. To start fresh. But even though she logically knew Noah was worth another chance, she couldn’t quite get there. And she didn’t know why.

“I’m okay,” she said, pushing Colton away. She grimaced at his shirt. “Sorry about the shirt. Use your whore money to buy another.”

“Oh great,” he said drolly. “You’re starting to sound like Janie.”

She gave him a watery smile. “Thanks. For everything. You guys have made this whole thing almost bearable.”

“Better together,” he said, reminding her of the text he’d sent yesterday. “Do you need me to hang out for a while? Janie is painting and Madison is looking over a contract for me, so they aren’t around.”

“Nah. I’m good.” Cynthia gestured at the computer. “I’ll just work on this stuff. It helps sidetrack me.”

He followed her gaze. “I don’t know how.” When he was near the door, he looked back. “You can stay here as long as you like. I’ve told Noah to stay clear.”

More tears started rolling. Her heart ached. “You don’t have to tell him that.” She hiccupped while trying to hold back a sob. “Regardless of my hang-ups, I owe him a chat, and not just because my mother will never stop pestering me until I hear him out.”

“He was at fault here. You don’t owe him anything. If you give him a chance, it’s because you’re gracious and forgiving. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Yikes. It was more a figure of speech, but…heard.”

He grinned. “The girls have rubbed off on me. Janie is violent. It was better to see their point of view than risk getting ganged up on.”

She laughed and looked back at the computer screen. “Gotcha.”

“Also…I’ll text him to say you’re willing to see him. That means he’ll probably be here soon. The only reason he didn’t show up at your mom’s house is because Janie told him not to. Then threatened him.”

“Okay,” she said as butterflies fluttered through her. A sick feeling bubbled underneath their dance. She wasn’t great at talking things out. She was much better at turning tail and running for the hills.

For the next twenty minutes, she tried (and mostly failed) to focus on the tasks she wanted to complete. Then the thing she’d been waiting for happened. Her phone vibrated on the desk, and when she glanced at the screen, she saw a text from Ethan: Alert. Noah and I are just pulling up to Colton’s.

Tingles spread across her skin, and the butterflies, still flapping around her middle, developed razor-tipped wings, cutting into her. Nervousness churned her stomach.

Part of her didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want to see him. Talking this out would be the mature thing to do. But she realized that she wasn’t ready to be an adult. Not if it meant hearing his side of things, and then possibly saying goodbye forever. This was the Final Frontier, the decision that would decide her love life, which had never seemed this important before.

She eyed the window. Could she possible sneak out that way and manage to get to the ground and run?

Doubtful. She’d probably trip over something, roll, and fall off the edge of the roof. Best not to chance it.

There was always the back exit. Or the front, if he was in the kitchen.

What if he was in the front living room? He’d see her walk down the stairs.

“Oh God, I don’t want to do this,” she said as someone knocked on the door.

Janie pushed the door open, wearing an apron splattered with paint. Apparently she had a reserved painting room in Colton’s house. And while that might’ve been very exciting for Cynthia at one time, because Janie was her favorite artist ever, right now she couldn’t care less.

“How’s it going, Charlotte?” Janie asked. She hadn’t stopped calling her that since she and Aunt Bessie had bonded. “You look like you are about to shit yourself.”

“I am. I was just contemplating the window as a viable exit.”

“You tripped over your own feet and fell face-first into the refrigerator yesterday. At your mother’s house. Where you’ve lived most of your life. I don’t advise it.”

“That’s the conclusion I came to.”

“C’mon. Treat this like a Band-Aid. Let’s rip it off.”

“You don’t have to go down with me.”

“I definitely do. I want to paint it.”

“Please don’t.”

“Can’t help it. You’ll have to see the one I did of Kaylee that she absolutely hates. I re-created it just to piss her off.” Janie motioned her toward the door. “C’mon. Let’s get it over with.”

Cynthia walked from the room with a straight back, the funeral march playing in the back of her head.

“Your aunt told me why she calls you Charlotte, by the way,” Janie said as they walked toward the stairs.

“Oh? Why?”

“She likes the name better than Cynthia.”

“Ah. I wonder why she hasn’t renamed anyone else.”

“I asked her that. She said it was because she didn’t like anyone else enough to find a fitting name for them.”

“That’d be nice if it wasn’t so weird.”

“I said the same thing.”

Cynthia paused at the top of the steps. Continuous sound drifted up from the TV below. Noah and Ethan were definitely in the front living room, since Colton had a pet peeve about TVs being left on when no one was in the room. No live voices could be heard. So the guys were sitting quietly. Probably waiting.

“I don’t want to do this,” Cynthia muttered.

“If you don’t walk down there, you’ll be just as big of a coward as Noah was when he decided not to tell you about BD right away.”

Cynthia looked at Janie, a new sense of understanding bleeding through her. It didn’t slow her rampaging heart, but it helped her see things in a different way.

“Crap.” She descended the stairs slowly, clutching the banister. As the stairs curved, she could see the tile in the entranceway below. Then the arched entrance of the front living room. Then the arm of someone in the recliner. “Here we go.”

She walked to the archway of the living room, her stomach rolling in anticipation. She sincerely hoped she didn’t throw up. Then she saw him, standing just inside the room, a full beer sweating in his hand. His eyes were on the screen, but they looked unfocused, as though he was just pretending to be watching. He wore a crisp green button-up that stretched across the breadth of his shoulders and hugged his defined arms and perfect chest. Stylish jeans showed off his strong legs and butt.

No else was in the room except for Ethan.

She cleared her throat as Janie drifted a few steps off to the side, her head tilted as if she were analyzing something. Cynthia didn’t care what, because at that moment Noah’s head snapped in her direction. His deep brown eyes looked like pools of misery. Guilt and remorse lined his haggard face. But for all that, he was still the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

When their gazes met, the world dropped away.