When in Paris... (Language of Love)
April. “By the way, I’m Zach.”
    Olivia stops and spins around, her lips parted. “Oh I’m sorry. I should have—”
    I hold up a hand to halt what sounds like an unnecessary apology. “S’okay.”
    “ April, this is Zach.” Olivia makes the introduction anyway.
    “ Zach.” April’s response isn’t unfriendly but she certainly had been friendlier after class today. Which makes me wonder what Olivia told her about me. Nothing good, judging by the way her friend is currently eyeing me.
    “ Well, let me get rid of my stuff and clean up.” I grab my backpack and head to my room. Shit. I have a feeling this is going to be a long fuckin’ night.
    ***
    OLIVIA
    Oh. My. God. Crap like this can only happen to me. No seriously, only me.
    My eyes stray to Zach’s butt as he walks toward the rear of the apartment. I bite my lower lip to keep the drool in my mouth. I drop down into the blue sofa behind me and a moment later, April is pressed against my side, shoulder to shoulder. “You’re hot for him. You should have been honest with me. I just gave him my Vulcan stare.”
    In other words, she’d tempered her one-hundred-megawatt smile to a still-beatific sixty watt. That’d show him.
    From my vantage point, I can partially see Troy at the door exchanging cash for food with the delivery guy. Not sure how much voices carry in this place, I drop my voice to a whisper. “I do not and I repeat, do not have the hots for him.”
    “Yeah, right.”
    “And what about you? You didn’t tell me Troy looks like that guy who left his wife for Leann Rimes. You know, the one with the dimples. Except a more muscular jock version of him.”
    I think I had a brain freeze when I saw Troy. In the six years since I’d last seen him, he’d grown into a bonafide, grade-A hunk. White teeth and a gorgeous smile—thank God for braces—and he’s tall. I think even taller than Zach. It’s like my mind couldn’t comprehend how the boy I’d known had grown into this—this man.
    “Eddie Cibrian? Oh get out. He doesn’t look a thing like him,” April scoffs.
    That is when the guy in question appears, holding three paper bags of Chinese food, the delicious aroma quickly filling the room.
    “Ladies, dinner is served. I hope you appreciate all the work I’ve put into the meal.” Troy smirks as he places the grease-speckled bags on the oak-topped dining table and begins opening the bags and removing white cartons of food.
    April immediately abandons her spot beside me on the sofa to take over serving duty. Troy leaves her to collect plates and utensils from the galley kitchen.
    Since they seem to have everything under control, I get up and advance to the kitchen, prop my hip against the counter and watch them work. I can’t help but note how well they work together, almost like they’ve done this more than a few times before.
    “So, Troy, how do you like Warwick?” He really does look like that Eddie guy and I’ve always thought he was hot. But there’s no way I’d ever go out with him, not with Zach being his roommate and my best friend being his…something-more-than-friend-but-less-than-girlfriend if that makes any sense. Bottom line, it would be too weird.
    Troy cocks his head toward me as he grabs a bunch of napkins from one of the cupboards and places them in the middle of the table. “It’s great. My schedule basically sucks but I’ll have to deal with that tomorrow.”
    “There.” April stands back to study the table. I can see her mind whirling as she checks to make sure everything needed for dinner is laid out perfectly. “C’mon, have a seat.”
    The table itself is surprisingly tasteful but small enough to fit comfortably in the dining room/nook area. As I’m settling into my chair, I hear Zach coming down the hall. No matter how much I tell myself to keep it cool, having him this close heightens every one of my senses, which is fast becoming a regular state for me.
    With Troy and April sitting next to

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