• 215-536-8026

• Offers the ‘New Life Program’ helping women overcome alcohol/drug use

Abiding thanks to Tina M. for helping compile this list.

As always, thank you to Helen, KP, Kelley, Candi, Jen, Kim, Lauren, Lynn, Virginia, Tiffany, Karen, and others for helping shape the story. Big love to my family.

INSTANT GRATIFICATION

ABOUT

I need a fake date. She needs my late-night expertise. Now, if we can just keep our hands off each other...

As the premier best-man-for hire in all of Manhattan, I promise discretion, so when I need a plus one for a couple of "I dos," I turn to my gorgeous, clever, witty best friend's sister. She's my good friend, too, and I lust after her completely. I mean, I TRUST her completely.

After all, just look how she's kept her lips sealed about the hot, multi-O night we spent together. Yes, just look at those sexy lips.

In any case, we only fell off the wagon once, and it was months ago. I'm sure we can make it through these weddings without banging each other in the limo. 

Or can we?

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PROLOGUE

When you’ve had to tell as many “how we got together” stories as I have, you get a fair idea of the range of things a man will do to impress a woman, from thoughtful to absurd to downright unbelievable.

For starters, bro, did you really read Fifty Shades of Grey?

But that’s only number one on the menu of items guys will pick and choose from in an effort to elicit flutters from a new lady.

I know men who claim to love Pride and Prejudice. Even go so far as to say they’ve read the book. And maybe we do get that desperate to see what women see in Mr. Fucking Darcy other than an English accent. Which I have, by the way, but I still don’t understand the deal with Colin Firth any more than the next bloke.

I’ve met fellows who swear they don’t like football of any variety—American or proper—to reassure a lady she’ll never be a widow to the footie. Or they’ll turn off a match on the TV with so much drama you’d think they were giving up a kidney.

Or a man’s résumé will become suspiciously plump with female-friendly hobbies. Show me a single man in a yoga class, and I’ll show you a lad who’s trying to score major points with the fairer sex.

The next thing he knows, he’s shaving his chest, shaving his toes, and shaving his balls. Which must mean he’s serious about her because that shit hurts.

When it comes to manscaping, I think a trim here or there can go a long way, but go too far and you’ll look like a porpoise. And what woman wants to roll around in the sheets with Flipper?

But by far the worst case I ever saw was a guy who swore to his sweetheart that he loved Ed Sheeran’s music. Even followed Ed’s Twitter feed and read reviews so he could convincingly wax on about the ginger phenom. (The fella even planned to tell his bride that he wanted “Shape Of You” to be their wedding song. I put my foot down. Go with “Castle on the Hill.” “Shape of You” is too obvious, and women can see through that lie.)

As happy as I am that it worked out for these gents, especially after they pay my invoice as a specialty wedding service provider, it seems like a lot of work to keep up with all that—retweets, nether-region maintenance, or the pointless hell of football abstinence.

I understand why men want to show off for women. Women are like sunshine and whiskey, lilies and diamonds. They’re sex and desire and everything good in the universe. They’re lovelier to gaze at than a priceless work of art. Hell, women are better than football, better than pints of ale, better than the Rolling Stones and occasionally even the Beatles, though I will deny that blasphemy even under torture.

Women make a man’s merry-go-round keep turning, make life worth living. And they deserve to be annoyed if a guy who swore he hated football has a drawer full of Manchester United souvenirs.

There’s a fine line between putting your best foot forward and shooting yourself in it, and it’s my job to help the lead-footed of the world win women without losing them.

Damn shame, then, that the one woman I’d really like to impress is off-limits.

With good reason. With a long list of good reasons, in fact.

So off-limits is how she’ll have to stay, even when I learn she desperately needs my specialized knowledge to impress a new investor.

But wouldn’t you know—I need something from her too.

Badly.

That can only mean it’s time to impress the hell out of myself by resisting every single temptation to step out of the friend zone with her.

1

Her legs wrap around my waist, firm and tight. Her heels make a vise grip, tugging me closer between her thighs.

It’s the perfect position for countless naughty things. The possibilities are as vast as my filthy imagination is wide, and my imagination has won blue ribbons for its width.

Its depth too.

And its length.

Yes, it’s an award-winning dirty zone between my ears.

But down here? In real life? The breath rushes from my lungs as she squeezes.

Holy hell.

I. Can’t. Move.

I can barely breathe.

Truly Goodman has me pinned on the mat. She’s ferocious and strong, and there’s literally nothing I can do to escape her clutches.

“Nice work, Truly and Jason! That’s how you neutralize a bigger, stronger opponent. With a back mount combined with a choke hold.” The praise comes from the instructor.

Well, Truly’s definitely neutralized any chance I’ll be turned on in jujitsu class again, that’s for sure. The instructor gives the go-ahead for my opponent to relinquish her hold on me, and I’m both immensely saddened that the brunette unlocks her legs from my waist and also incredibly grateful I’m not about to die in the middle of this demo of a powerful grappling move.

Truly breathes hard as she heads to the water fountain in the corner of the studio and takes a long, thirsty gulp.

Water, yes. That’s a brilliant idea. I follow her to the oasis. “Have you registered those hands as lethal weapons, Truly? While you’re at it, license those legs too.”