Brett flicked on the light, dropped his keys into the dish in the foyer, then strode into the kitchen ahead of me.

I set my purse down by his keys and then lingered at the door, nervous, which was ridiculous. I’d been to his apartment a thousand times and crashed in his spare bedroom so often that I had a toothbrush in the bathroom. He’d invited me to move in officially on more than one occasion, and I’d always consider it until I remembered that there was no way I could afford half of the nine grand that he paid per month for a luxury location in Koreatown with views of the Hudson.

Sure, he’d said I didn’t need to pay that much, but no. It was one thing to take advantage of my sister and her rich husband. It was an entirely different thing to let Brett carry me financially.

And there was the other reason that kept me from adding my name to the lease—I was afraid it would be that much easier to end up tangled in his sheets.

I turned my head to look into his bedroom, clearly visible from the foyer. His door was only slightly ajar, but I could see enough of the bed to know he’d made it this morning, as always. The gray duvet was tucked in with tight military corners, a tie laid out on top, and I could vividly imagine the one he wore tonight had once been laid next to it while he decided which to wear—he’d chosen the better.

It was an ordinary glimpse of a man I knew very well, and though it offered no new knowledge of him, it made my pulse race. I felt like a voyeur, spying on a part of his life that I hadn’t been invited into.

I wanted to be invited in.

I wanted to mess up those sheets.

I wanted to be tied up with that tie.

Oh my God, I was terrible. We were best friends, and thinking naughty thoughts about him was super terrible.

Maybe he’ll spank me for it…

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