1. Why Are You Hard?

"I am starving, Len."

Alex didn't know when the words slipped out, but they hung in the air between them, heavy with a meaning that had nothing to do with food.

Lena was doing something to him tonight. Something dangerous.

For the fifteenth time, she narrated how she'd tackled the intruder to the floor, her voice loud and excited as she paced her cramped living room.

Alex had stopped listening before she even finished the first telling. His attention had snagged on the way her tiny booty shorts clung to her curvy hips, the skin-tight crop top that stopped just beneath her breasts and rode up to expose her bare midriff, the movement of her full lips as she spoke, hitting him with a hunger he couldn't shake.

"Then I just grabbed the lamp and told him if he moved, I'd bash his brains in!"

Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, glasses perched on her nose as she demonstrated some questionable karate move, punching the air with theatrical ferocity.

The way her hips swayed as she paced made blood rush faster through Alex's veins. He shifted on her worn sofa, trying to focus on anything but the movement of her body, strategically positioning a throw pillow across his lap.

"Alex? Are you even listening to me?"

She stopped mid-stride, hands planted on those curvy hips, head tilted in that way that usually made him smile.

"Yeah, of course. Lamp, brains, real badass…" He cleared his throat. "You're killing me here."

Why was this happening? Was he only just noticing how attractive his best friend was after nearly ten years of friendship?

He'd seen Lena in bikinis countless times. Hell, he'd even helped her with that swimwear photoshoot last summer, holding the reflector while she posed in bikinis. Not once had he felt this pull, this magnetic attraction that made it hard to breathe.

Maybe it was the way her breasts pressed together in that crop top.

Or how the apartment's warm lighting caught on her smooth thighs when she moved.

Or maybe he was just sex-starved, his body reacting to any attractive woman in proximity.

But this was Lena. His best friend.

He'd dropped everything when she panic-called at 10:45 PM. It was past midnight now, and he sat in her cluttered one-bedroom apartment, fighting inappropriate thoughts that made guilt coil in his stomach.

"You said you were hungry, right? I could make those nachos you like, or pasta-" Lena was already heading toward her kitchen.

Alex's gaze followed the curve of her ass, the way those shorts pushed them up perfectly and gave them more volume.

The intrusive thought hit him hard: bending her over that counter, painting those thick thighs with his—

He stopped himself, horrified.

Was Lena doing this on purpose? Did she know the effect she was having? Because she was definitely swaying her hips more than usual.

But when their eyes met as she pulled open a cabinet, she seemed completely oblivious to the fact that her every movement was seducing him.

The guilt intensified. He knew what her ex had done to her, the abuse she'd endured. And here he was, objectifying her when she needed a friend.

He stood abruptly, following her to the kitchen to clear his head.

"Stop cooking, Len. It's late. I'm not actually hungry." He leaned against her counter, watching her turn on the tap.

"You said you were starving." She moved closer, and her bare shoulder brushed his, sending electricity up his arm.

His fingers flexed, aching to grab her waist. Her fruity shampoo filled his lungs and all he could think about was burying his face in her hair, throwing off those glasses, tasting those lips, kissing her until neither of them could breathe.

He could do it. Right now. Just take what he wanted and deal with the consequences later.

But there was Nancy.

Nancy, his fiancée, who trusted him completely.

Sweet, kind Nancy who was planning their wedding while he stood here having inappropriate thoughts about his best friend.

Fucking mess.

"I should go." Alex shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to adjust his pants over the growing bulge. "It's late and Nancy's definitely wondering where I ran off to."

Disappointment flickered across Lena's face before she nodded.

"Yeah, of course. Thanks for coming over, Alex. My hero." She punched his arm playfully.

Despite everything, he laughed. This was what Lena did to him. Always cut through tension with that easy smile, made him forget he ran a billion-dollar company, that he had responsibilities waiting, that he was engaged to someone else.

"Change your locks tomorrow," he said, moving toward the door. "And maybe consider moving to a better neighborhood. This place is a deathtrap."

"On my salary? Please. Not all of us are billionaire CEOs with penthouses." She rolled her eyes, following him.

"I'd give you a raise if you'd stop sneaking out early on Fridays to get your nails done."

"You wouldn't know about that if you weren't secretly watching me all the time," she teased.

If only she knew how true that was becoming.

At the door, Alex turned to say goodbye.

"So-" Before he could speak, Lena pressed her body against his in a hug, her arms wrapping around his waist, her face buried in his chest.

Shit.

She could definitely feel his erection pressing against her stomach now. Alex froze, not daring to breathe, willing his body to behave for just a few more seconds.

Lena looked up at him, those innocent eyes searching his face.

"Alex?" Her voice was small, confused. "Why are you hard?"