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I’m not keen on heading outside. It’s pouring, but that’s not the worst of it. He’s finished my muffin and stands beside me, like a sad, pathetic puppy, that is, until he opens his mouth. “Worried you might melt?”

I scoff a little too loudly and blow out a loud puff of air, shoving the door open, letting the rain soak me from head to toe.

Fuck him.

I hurry along the sidewalk for the subway, but it’s several streets away, and I’m drenched by the time I make it to the end of the first block. Well, this wasn’t the best plan, but at least I’m far from Myles Dax.

I never want to see him again.

I hurry through the cold rain, stumbling down the steps of the subway stairs and down to the platform. I dig into my purse, retrieving my phone, and unlock it to read the message sent in the dating app.

Conrad: Whoa. I’m really sorry, but someone hacked my account. We never had a date planned … these messages, the last several aren’t from me.

Me: Okay.

Fuck. I shut off the app, tempted to delete it. I run my fingers through my hair, taking the claw out and letting the wet tendrils fall around my shoulders. The next train will be in ten minutes. Against my judgement, I click on the app again, staring at Conrad’s messages.

Three dots appear by his name as he’s typing something and then it pops up on the screen.

Conrad: Shit. I recognize the phone number that was given to you. It isn’t mine.

Me: Whose number do I have?

Conrad: Myles Dax

Seven

Myles

Boxes are piling up inside my new apartment. Conrad, Archer, Reid, Byron, and Harrison help me move all my shit out of my brother’s place and into my new building. It’s not nearly as fancy as Archer’s bachelor pad, but I wasn’t about to rent a place where he’s living.

He’d kill me.

I opted for a luxury apartment across town that I can rent for a year while I look at condos to buy. Archer made it clear that I’ve overstayed my welcome, and I’ve been a bit jealous of Conrad’s new digs. Turns out, he’s got a condo that he owns. I spoke with the owner, found out they have an apartment complex across town, modern luxury, whatever that means, and the rest is history.

Or will be, after I move everything inside.

The building boasts private security, ensuring not just anyone can show up at the front door. While I don’t have any stalkers or rabid fans chasing me down, it’s only a matter of time until social media finds out where I live.

The fans have done that to Archer, but with the robust security of his building, he’s never had a problem.

“Are we almost done here?” Byron asks, wiping sweat from his brow. He places a box labeled kitchen on the counter and opens the fridge. There’s not much inside except a lot of beer. I bought enough to make sure that I could thank my teammates for helping me move.

He grabs a bottle, pops the top, and takes a swig.

Harrison places one of the bedroom boxes on the floor near the living room. “Give me one,” he says, holding out his hand for a beer.

Byron glances at the box. “Are you seriously that lazy? Put the box marked bedroom in the bedroom. Then, you can get a beer.”

“Where’s your couch?” Reid nods toward the living room, which is looking pretty sparse. I’ve got a television and TV stand but nowhere to sit.

“Getting delivered later today.” I glance at my watch. “Sometime this afternoon, it’s supposed to arrive.”

“I can’t believe you roped us into helping you move. You’re buying us pizza,” Archer says, but it’s not a question.

I reach for my phone on the counter and start putting in an order, asking the guys what they want on their pizza. “Should be here within the hour.”

Most of the guys bail after pizza. They were willing to move boxes, but they wanted no part of unpacking. Something about it being not manly enough for them.