Clearly, Dakota and I are not joining the couple crowd anytime soon. In fact, I’m debating joining the friendship crowd because with every judgmental word Dakota shoots my way, I realize I might be in the market for a new best friend.
“Thanks, bestie,” I snap, grumpily sipping my lavender gin cocktail in a fancy coupe glass.
She rolls her eyes. “Like honestly, all those romance novels you’ve been reading lately should be making you more confident, not less.”
I eye her warily. There is just something righteously irritating about childhood best friends. They think they can voice any opinion about you because they happened to wear a heart-shaped pewter pin with your picture in it on their sweater to school every day in fifth grade. Apparently, that level of bestie devotion means they can make scathing remarks on your personality or lack of emotional intelligence while smugly insinuating they know you better.
Even tonight, when we were looking at the extensive cocktail menu, I struggled with what to order, so Dakota just picked one for me while in the bathroom without even asking me.
It was fucking delicious.
Damn her.
“I thought you were supposed to be making me feel better about my situation, not worse.” I slide my finger along the fancy charcuterie board that we demolished within moments of the server setting it down in front of us. I really love how they added handles to the sides. I should shop for hardware tomorrow to add that to mine.
Dakota reaches out and touches my hand. “Focus, Cozy. You just told me you had a hot make-out sesh with Million-Dollar Max that involved loads of heavy petting and a hickey souvenir.” She giggles on the last word, and I debate punching my best friend in the nose. “And then he just freaked out and bolted?”
My hand touches the space on my chest where the red welt is, and images of last night explode in my mind. His body, his tongue, his teeth, our breaths. I close my eyes and swallow the knot in my throat. “That about covers it.”
“And you think it’s because he’s out of your league?” She stares at me in disbelief.
I shrug and nod, forcing my chin not to wobble with the overwhelming sense of raw vulnerability I’m feeling right now.
“Hi, Crazy, I’m Dakota. It’s nice to meet you.” Dakota holds her hand out for me to shake, and I smack it away. She sighs heavily. “Honestly, Cozy, I don’t even understand this side of you. Our whole lives, you’ve never been insecure. It’s the thing I admire most about you. Not your freakishly smart brain that seems to be both analytical and creative, not even your insane ability to make a stunning charcuterie board, or the fact that you know how to show sheep because of the years you spent in 4-H. It’s your strikingly effortless confidence that gets my panties wet.”
I pause before putting an olive into my mouth. “That was a bit too specific.”
“Well, it’s the truth,” she huffs indignantly. “You’re hot, but your confidence makes you a total catch. Which is why I’m struggling to get past the comment you made about being ‘too fat’ for Max Fletcher!”
“Would you keep your voice down,” I hiss, leaning across the table to shoot daggers at her. It took a lot for me to admit that insecure thought but hearing her say it back to me fills me with regret.
My stomach sinks as I prepare to reveal the dark truth that I haven’t shared with my questionable best friend tonight. The truth that’s been living rent free in my mind all day long.
“It’s not just the physical aspect.” I blow a slow breath out of my mouth and continue, “It’s the fact that Max is a multimillionaire with a successful company. He has a gorgeous home, a sweet daughter, an ex-wife who, by all accounts, he gets along well with. He has his life together, and here I am, a twenty-six-year-old nanny who just moved out of my sister’s spare bedroom into a tiny house on his property that is nicer than anything I’ve ever lived in before. I have absolutely nothing to offer him. It’s no wonder he took a second look at me and ran for the hills.”
Dakota’s features soften. “Need I remind you that your circumstances are by choice right now?”
“I know that.” I groan and push my hands into my hair. “But he doesn’t.”
“So then tell him,” she presses.
“Absolutely not. If he’s going to be a shallow asshole who won’t sleep with a girl because he thinks she’s beneath his station like we’re in the middle of some Regency romance novel, then fuck him.”
Dakota laughs. “Regency romance couldn’t handle the likes of Cozy Barlow.”
“And those corsets can go to hell.” I pop another olive into my mouth, and we both giggle like schoolgirls. It feels good. It’s the first time I’ve cracked a smile in twenty-four hours. And I love to smile.
A thoughtful look crosses Dakota’s face. “If you ask me, this has nothing to do with your body, your looks, or your current career choice. I think this has to do with his position over top of you and him not wanting to take advantage of you.”
“I want him to take advantage of me!” I exclaim as her words elicit a graphic image of Max over top of me, causing heat to pool in my belly. “I want him to finish what he started. I want to scratch this itch, so he can stop consuming my thoughts day and night. If we hooked up just once, then maybe I could go five freaking minutes without thinking about how he looks in his swim trunks or now…a wet fucking T-shirt.”
“Yeah, I’d pay to see that.” Dakota’s eyes flare with heat before she shakes that image away. She eyes me over her cocktail as she takes a sip. “So are you saying you’d be up for a one-night stand with a millionaire?”
“Yeah, who wouldn’t be?” I reply with a laugh. “Trust me, I’m not looking to become Everly’s new mommy. And I certainly don’t want to be a second wife to the corporate grind. Not to mention, I need to get my life together long before I could ever seriously date anyone, let alone a single dad. But CEO Max is clearly not up for sex with a nanny.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” She presses her fingers to her lips, clearly deep in thought.
I roll my eyes. “What is running through that hamster wheel of a brain you have?”
She quirks a challenging brow and props her elbows on the table. “Just that men are essentially cavemen who learned how to dress. And what do cavemen do?” She sits back and smirks. “They hunt.”
I chew my lower lip nervously, knowing that I shouldn’t encourage Dakota because when she puts her mind to something, she often succeeds. But I can’t help the question that tumbles out of my mouth. “So what does that mean for me?”
“It means you need to make them chase you a bit before you write him off for good.” She winks coyly. “Because I have a feeling he’s the kind of guy who goes after what he wants.”
I shake my head and press my fingers to my temples. This is a bad, bad idea. I am not as skilled at playing men like Dakota is. “Should I even want something to happen between us? I mean…he is my boss and I love Everly.”
“So what! You’re both mature-ish consenting adults.” She waves her cocktail to the server who’s passing by, indicating we need another round. She turns back to me, not missing a beat. “Since you’ve already crossed the line, you might as well make it to the finish line. A fling with a millionaire sounds like the perfect Great Defrost life experience for Cozy Cassie.”