“Hayden!” Story giggled into her wine as Daniel reached across the table to hold her hand. “Tell everyone about the time in college we drove to Mexico. When you rode the donkey.”

Brent had to drink deeply when Hayden’s face broke into a beautiful smile. It turned her into the girl he’d seen snuggle a pillow, making puns in the dark. Pillow-puns Hayden. Brent expected her to decline to tell the story, make a sarcastic remark, and pass the buck back to Story. But tonight she seemed different. Pensive one minute, sentimental the next. It worried him.

Hayden took one final sip of her wine and set it down with a flourish. “Well. We were bored on a Saturday and Story got a craving for tamales. Since I’d never eaten one, she insisted we road-trip to Mexico on a quest for my perfect first tamale. A little crazy, but since midterms had just ended, we needed to blow off some steam.” She nodded at Story. “Of course, this one got us lost and we ended up in some town with no name, a map we couldn’t read, and not a tamale in sight.”

As if on cue, both men at the table folded their arms and sighed, outwardly irritated by the idea of two college coeds lost in a foreign country. It only made Story and Hayden laugh harder. Even Brent couldn’t keep the smile completely off his face, seeing the two girls look so happy.

“We were starving, so we stopped at a fruit stand on the side of a dirt road. Two donkeys were tied up in back. The owner, knowing two suckers when he saw them, told us we could ride them for five American dollars. Before he’d even finished making his offer, Story had climbed onto one of the beasts and named it Maxwell. As you do.”

Story took over the telling. “We were only riding for a few minutes when Hayden’s donkey started making this horrible braying noise. Like, the worst sound you’ve ever heard. So Hayden got off his back and the poor thing just kind of…pooped out in the middle of the street.”

“Then it went into labor.”

Story could barely speak through her laughter. “Hayden ran back and got the fruit stand owner, who promptly passed out at seeing a live birth. While I tried to shake him awake, Hayden delivered a donkey baby in the middle of the street. All while sporting an Hermès scarf, by the way.”

Brent gaped at Hayden, but she was too busy enjoying herself to notice. Her entire face had lit up, animated in a way he’d never seen her. Or maybe he’d just been blind to anything apart from how she portrayed herself on the surface. Cool and disinterested. But underneath…Jesus, she was so much more. Energy and light just waiting to shine through.

Where the hell had that thought come from? Relationship Daniel had obviously rubbed off on him. But as he’d already realized, subtle coaxing wouldn’t work with Hayden. He was going to have to step up his game if he wanted a shot with her.

Resolved to stick with the plan, he tuned back in to the story. “Marco finally woke up after Hayden dumped a gallon of water on his head. He was so thankful that he named the donkey after her.”

Hayden raised her glass, smiling at everyone’s laughter. “It’s true. Somewhere in Mexico, I have a namesake with fur.” She sighed. “We never got our tamales.”

When everyone’s laughter died down, Brent bit the bullet. “So what did they name the donkey? Pampered Princess?”

Her wineglass froze halfway to her mouth. The table went silent. He could feel Daniel’s death stare but ignored it. He needed to shake her up, and it couldn’t wait another second. True to form, Hayden didn’t disappoint. She set her glass down and smiled sweetly. His gut clenched when her eyes lit up, challenging, excited. “Aw, what’s wrong, Brent? Jealous? After all, if ever there was someone who deserved to have a jackass named after him, it’s you.”

He leaned forward on his elbows. “Yeah? And what would they name it? How about…Spanky?”

Hayden’s composure slipped a little, but he only noticed because of how closely he watched her. “How about Oversized Dickhead?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t hear you complaining about my oversized—”

She shot to her feet, jostling the table. “Can I speak with you in private?”

“You need it right now?” He feigned exasperation. “We’re in the middle of dinner, woman. You’re insatiable.”

Story suddenly ducked down and peeked under the tablecloth, gasping and drawing everyone’s attention. “Brent, what size are your feet?”

His brows drew together. “Fifteen. Why?”

“Ahhh!” She pointed an accusatory finger at Hayden, shoving Daniel’s shoulder with her other hand. “Sock guy. He’s sock guy!”

“Oh yeah, he’s going to get socked, all right.”

“Brent is sock guy?” The couple exchanged a look. “But wait, you guys hate each other,” Daniel protested.

Hayden narrowed her eyes. “Jesus, you really do tell each other everything.”

“You owe me,” Story continued indignantly. “I’ve been keeping up my end of the sex talk and I get nothing in return. Nothing! You owe me some details.”

Daniel held up single finger. “Wait a minute. You talk to Hayden about what we do in bed?”

Her best friend sank down into her seat and Hayden sighed. “Oh, relax, Danny. She walks around our apartment humming like a freaking Disney princess. Birds literally perch on her shoulder when we go outside. You should be proud.”

Daniel smirked at Story. “Did you tell her about the new leg thing?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Brent griped.

Before an awkward silence could settle over the table, Story pushed back her chair and stood. “Why don’t we all just get some air?”

…

Brent and Hayden walked in tense silence, trailing Story and Daniel on the boardwalk. The sun had just begun to set, soft music drifted from portable radios on the beach, a soft breeze rolled off the ocean to cool Hayden’s skin. It was a beautiful night. Perfect for Daniel’s imminent marriage proposal to her best friend.

Hayden wanted to scream.

The man walking so casually next to her actually had the nerve to whistle. Whistle. Her willpower had never faced such a powerful test. Without it, she would have already tackled him into the sand, pinned his arms over his head…and kissed the shit out of him. That, that, is what had her so angry. She didn’t understand her reaction any more than she understood his sudden revelation at dinner regarding their physical relationship. What was his game? Getting back at her for turning him down? Or perhaps Brent thought if he bit the bullet and blurted the news to their friends, she’d have no excuses not to jump into bed with him.

Whatever his reasons, she found her resolve weakening at an alarming rate. He looked edible in his dinner clothes, all raw maleness wrapped up in gray trousers and a loose black dress shirt, barely containing the solid muscle beneath. His swagger held an extra hint of arrogance tonight, doing precious little to dim his appeal. Her hormones were still performing a sultry tango in her stomach, left over from the drive and the almost-sex in Brent’s room. Combined with her frayed nerves, courtesy of her upcoming decision, Hayden felt ready to snap. She felt out of control. She needed something. Unfortunately, she had a feeling that something was the six-foot-five hormone-whisperer walking beside her, whistling the Happy Days theme song.