The Starter Boyfriend by Tina Ferraro

back of his throat, then pitched the empty container in a passing trash can.
    “How much,” he asked, slipping a hand in his back pocket, “is she offering to pay you?”
    “Wait,” I said, stopping to stare into his eyes. “You’re actually considering this?”
    “How much?”
    “She’ll match whatever you pay. She’s hoping you can get a parent or relative to cover it for you.”
    He puckered his lips as if in consideration.
    Making my brain rumble into gear. Phillip loved it when I brought in new rentals. Still, the real peek-behind-the-curtain truth why my pulse was suddenly taking off? I’d missed out on Adam’s usher fitting for my dad’s and Jennifer’s first wedding attempt, and of course, there wouldn’t be a fitting this time.
    Plus, I’d get to step up as his style consultant—and how much fun to plan and try different options, to find the best ways to bring out the blue in his eyes and the gold flecks in his hair? And then I’d get to see him model it, and maybe help with alterations.
    What a wickedly wonderful benefit to our friendship.
    I was pretty sure I was smiling like a lunatic when he looked over at me. Which I thought explained why he stopped short on the pavement. To tease me.
    “Say I went with this,” he said instead. “She’d pay you, and what, you and I would split the cash?”
    I brought my slip-in sneakers to a squeaky stop. “If that’s what you want.”
    “Fifty bucks each?”
    “More or less, depending on what you order.” My brain took off again. I didn’t normally work mid-week, but Phillip would have no problem with me dropping by to make a guaranteed sale. “So, you want to do this?”
    He slanted a gaze down at me, his nostrils suddenly flaring.
    “No,” he finally said in tone gone dry. “I just wanted to know what your price was. How cheap you’d sell me out.”
    “ What ?”
    Stars, like the ones on my Homecoming dress, shimmered before my eyes.
    “Don’t think I don’t get it, Courtney. You pretend to laugh at her offer. Yet you go out of your way to find me and pull me out of a card game to talk it up. Because you figure I’d go right along with it, right? I’m already about to take money from her dad, so why not suck the girl dry and get your share, too? For your college fund. Isn’t that why you work there?”
    “No!” I screeched, my head exploding and not caring if everyone on the courtyard looked my way. “No to everything. I found you, and I told you, because I thought you should know. How’s she’s trying to buy you, to own you.”
    He studied my face for the longest moment of my life. “And this is news ? Didn’t I explain that at lunch the other day?” He blinked, hard. “And why did you look so happy about it? What could you have gotten from me renting a tux besides money?”
    The chicken strips started churning, like my entire mid-section had been caught in an angry vise.
    I couldn’t tell the guy who had just become my friend after a lifetime of awkwardness, the date-who-wasn’t-my-date, the crush I’d recovered from (well, kinda) that he was my idea of eye candy. That even though I’d never, ever ( ever !) have feelings for him again, that I still found him undeniably if not disproportionately hot?
    I swallowed over the desert that was now my throat and went with what I did have. Right now, he felt like a friend, a real friend, someone I could trust. “Look, I’m not working at the tux shop for the money. My dad’s got the college tuition thing covered. The job,” I continued, wincing at my first-time out loud confession, “is about keeping busy, so I have excuses not to get drunk with my friends.”
    Doubt flickered, then faded from his eyes.
    “Plus,” I went on, my words a mere step past my thoughts, “I like it there. Helping people pick out tuxes and stuff. Phillip has been proud of the way I’ve been bringing in new business, and I thought it would be fun if some of that new business included