DARING AND DANGEROUS

DELIVERY BOYS

BANG! BANG! BANG!

What the hell.

I bolted to the door, heart racing like it was trying out for the Olympics. I checked the monitor ah. The movers. My internal clock? Apparently still on Oklahoma time because I was definitely not ready.

I cracked the door open just enough to hide behind it, praying to the apartment gods that my braless boobs wouldn’t betray me. Spoiler alert: they absolutely did.

Standing there were two ridiculously hot guys. One was tall, tatted, built like he bench-pressed pickup trucks for fun, with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. The other had soft brown waves, kind eyes, and the kind of sweet smile that screamed “Midwestern gentleman who probably still calls his grandma every Sunday.”

Guess which one my brain decided to drool over? Yeah. Mr. Tattoos-and-Tight-White-Tee.

“Ms. Blake?” the tatted one asked, c*****g his eyebrow like he already knew I was about to make this weird.

“That’s me,” I said, attempting confidence but landing somewhere closer to flustered wreck. His eyes met mine… then dipped south. Boob-level south. And yep—there it was. The exact moment I realized my n*****s were on full high beam alert.

He looked away, cleared his throat like it had personally offended him. “I believe we’ve got some furniture for you.”

His friend tried to hide his laugh with a cough, which only made it worse.

“Right. Furniture. Come on in,” I said, stepping aside and internally screaming. “I’m Rory, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Rory. I’m TJ, and this is Matt.”

They carried the couches in first, which I directed toward the living room while trying not to trip over my own embarrassment. As soon as they were distracted with moving and measuring, I booked it to my bedroom.

Bra. Immediately.

Yoga pants. Absolutely.

Messy bun. Activated.

Blair always said my black leggings made my ass look dangerous. And if I was going to endure more TJ-level hotness, I needed every ounce of backup I could get.

When I emerged, Blair had conveniently shown up, smirking like the chaos fairy she is.

“There you are,” she said, giving me a once-over before not-so-subtly checking out TJ and Matt. “Nice outfit. Casual, confident, thirst-trap chic.”

I ignored her and focused on not combusting as TJ’s eyes did a full-body scan again. I bit my lip—out of habit, not seduction—but his smirk told me he appreciated the effect.

“Yeah, I uh… guess I slept through my alarm,” I said, feigning annoyance, trying to redirect the heat crawling up my neck.

The guys carried more furniture in while Blair wiggled her brows like a cartoon villain. The second they left to grab the next load, she turned to me like a girl on a gossip mission.

“Okay, you and TJ? s****l. Tension. I nearly got second-degree burns standing between you two.”

“Oh hush,” I said, brushing her off with a chuckle. “It’s just been too long since I got laid. My libido’s not picky—it’s desperate.”

Blair scoffed. “That makes two of us. Maybe I’ll get Matt to help me hang some things up later…”

I whirled around. “Blair. Don’t you dare.”

She just smiled innocently, which meant I was absolutely in for trouble.

The guys came back in with my coffee and end tables. As we directed them around, the apartment slowly started to feel more like home. My teal-and-grey aesthetic was coming together, and I couldn’t help but feel proud. Even amidst the chaos of cardboard boxes and emotionally loaded conversations, something about this place felt… good.

Blair and I made a deal—she helps me set up today, I help her tomorrow. Balance in the universe restored.

By noon, we were knee-deep in bubble wrap, and I decided to bribe the movers with pizza and beer. A little thank-you that conveniently included ogling opportunities and carbs.

TJ and Matt happily joined us around my new dining room table. Blair and I sat on one side, them on the other, and it felt strangely natural—easy conversation, cold beer, and way too much eye contact between me and the one with the tattoos.

“So, what brought you ladies to New York?” TJ asked.

I gave the usual canned answer. “Needed a change. Small town. Big dreams. You know the drill.”

Blair nodded, but I could feel her eyes on me. She knew the real reason. I didn’t want to blend in—I wanted to disappear. New York was the only place I could be truly invisible. No one here knew my story. No one looked at me like they’d seen my name in a courtroom transcript.

And God, that was such a relief.

Sensing my spiral incoming, Blair pivoted the conversation to to-do lists and decor. I glanced over at TJ again, his strong jaw, his five o'clock shadow, the kind of face that could do real damage to a girl’s common sense.

He caught me looking. Again.

I quickly looked away. Again.

And then I felt it—his leg brushing against mine under the table. Strong, deliberate. My entire body buzzed.

I tried to act normal. Failed miserably. Shut my legs tighter. Looked anywhere but at him.

But when I finally did peek back up… those blue eyes had turned stormy. Focused. Intense.

Jesus Christ, Rory. Get it together. You are not jumping the first hot guy you see in New York.

...Are you?

Blair looked between us, clearly suppressing a grin. “Hey, Matt—could you help me hang a few things in my apartment?”

I snapped my head toward her. She did not just—

She smirked, waggling her damn eyebrows like a matchmaking maniac.

“Sure,” Matt said. “You cool if I help her out, TJ?”

TJ didn’t even blink. “Yeah, I’m good.”