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Besides, he’ll give in. And, when he does, it’ll be mind-blowing … for both of us.

“Make sure you lock the door behind me,” he says, grinning.

I giggle, dropping my hand to the side. “How long do you think you can keep this up?”

“As long as it takes.” He winks. “Sweet dreams.”

He makes a face before turning toward the road. I laugh as he jogs down the sidewalk and gets into his SUV. He’s gone before I know it.

As soon as he’s out of sight, I close the door and lock it. Then I press my back against the wall and sigh.

I don’t know what to make of this, or how we took this wild departure from focusing on sex to not having sex at all. But if I know Finn, and I do, the man has needs. And I know better than anyone how to meet them.

“I just have to wait him out,” I say. “And, who knows? This might be fun.”

The thought of Finn in his wet shirt flashes through my mind.

I need a cold shower.

Probably one of many to come.

CHAPTER

FOUR

Finn

“What the hell are you doing?” I ask, laughing at the chaos strewn across Branch’s living room floor.

Cardboard leans against the couch, and cellophane and packing material cover every flat surface. Boards are stacked into piles, and hardware kits form a mound on the coffee table. And in the middle of it all is Branch with an electric screwdriver in his hand.

He narrows his eyes. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Something way above your pay grade.” I laugh again, moving a tool kit off the recliner. “Seriously. What are you trying to do?”

“I’m trying to build three bookshelves that your sister did not want the contractor to handle when he built the house because she wanted the space open,” he says, waving his hand through the air like Layla does. All levity falls from his face. “But look what got delivered today.”

“Sounds about right.”

“I’ll be honest. I was going to call one of those handyman places and have them come by and put these things together. But then Dad called, and I mentioned it like an idiot. I spent the next ten minutes listening to a lecture about why I should want to do things at home myself, and that this is what men do. We build shit.” He shakes his head, lowering his voice like his father’s. “I didn’t mention that I’ve never seen him build one damn thing in his life.”

I sit, chuckling at the frustration on Branch’s face.

Branch Best has been my best friend since we joined the Legends six years ago. We met at a party the night before we had to report to the facilities—a party neither of us had any business attending, considering we had to work the following morning. It was a very late night that I still can’t completely remember. But that night our friendship began, and I’ve talked to him nearly every day since.

Things come easily to Branch. So seeing him so frustrated over a bookcase is funnier than it should be.

“Did you read the instructions?” I ask.

“Yeah.” He looks around. “Sort of. I didn’t think it’d be this hard. I mean, it’s a rectangle with some shelves inside it. How is it this complicated? How are there this many parts?”

Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees. “I think you’ve overcomplicated it because I’m pretty sure you’ve mixed the parts together from different boxes.”

“Yeah. Sure did. I just emptied all the boxes and put it all in piles.”

Lord, help me. Did he never play with Legos as a child? “Are all the bookshelves the same model, at least? They were all the same style, right?”

“I think so.”