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  “Do I want to know?” I mouthed.

  He just grinned wickedly.

  “Heyyy, bros and bro-babes,” Ethan half-sang into the microphone. We each took turns introducing the show and doing alternating segments. I liked sports, but he was obsessed with them, so he handled those topics, while I took on the music scene and general pop culture. We traded off restaurant reviews and fashion segments, though I had to admit I gave zero shits about what clothes I was supposed to be wearing. The fashion part had really taken off four months ago, when Shari dated some guy who was trying to start his own line of men’s clothing. They eventually broke up, but not before Ethan and I were fitted with new wardrobes. The difference between us was that Ethan actually wore the stuffy khakis, thin sweaters, and crisp button-downs Mr. Fashion had seemed devoted to.

  Soon after Kylie left, Ethan had also talked me into reviewing the Couch to 5k app, which meant that I almost gasped myself to death more than a few times in Philly’s late-summer heat, and dropped almost thirty pounds along the way.

  “As you know, our very own Mark Mahler has been seriously upping his career game in the past several months.”

  It was true, though I hadn’t had much to do with how my unexpected career boost had started. My mother’s best friend’s seventeen-year-old son had auditioned for Show Us What You’ve Got, one of those nationally televised talent shows with a panel of C-list celebrity judges. I’d just started my talent management company, low on resources and contacts. Needing clients, I’d signed Magnus right away, expecting him to fall in the middle of the audition pack—neither good enough or awful enough to be televised.

  I’d been dead wrong. In the space of five months, Magnus had charmed and stunned the audience every week, won the grand prize in Show Us What You’ve Got, recorded an album, spent three weeks at the top of the American pop charts, and been nominated for a Grammy. Now I had a plane ticket to L.A. in two weeks, and I distantly hoped to hear my name in a Grammy acceptance speech.

  Yeah, life had basically smacked me in the face these past six months.

  “Well, Shari, our show manager, and I have decided that it’s time to push him along in the next stage of his evolution. Man was not made to be alone, and neither was Mark,” Ethan snarked.

  I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my chair, trying to look cool despite a creeping dread winding its way through me.

  Ethan nodded in Shari's direction, and Shari nodded at Toby, who suddenly looked super flustered as her eyes roved over the control board. After a couple tense moments, her eyes lit up as she found the button.

  A peppy beat pumped through the speakers and three voices singing in harmony jumped in, “It's Whiz Kid Mark Mahler! It’s Whiz Kid Mark Mahler! It’s Whiz Kid Mark Mahler, and he's lookin' for a girlfriend!”

  I narrowed my gaze on Ethan. “What the hell?” I mouthed. He knew I'd been heartbroken. He knew I couldn't even imagine myself dating again. Redness rose in my cheeks. My lips were pressed together tightly and, after being my best friend for so many years, Ethan knew what that meant.

  “Now, I want you all to know that Mark is super pissed at me right now. He says he’s still not over his ex, but I say he’s lonely. It’s been almost seven months and, ladies, he is ready. Not to settle down and commit, but at least to take a girl to dinner and do a little kissy-facing. So, Mark, buddy, I have a challenge for you. Are you ready?”

  “Do I have a choice?” I deadpanned while trying to blink back the sting of tears. Shari shrugged in what was one of her favorite gestures. Sorry, but she wasn’t sorry. I managed artists’ careers for a living, and I knew this show, and the whole studio, depended on ratings. Not only that, but if advertisers liked our content, they sent us goodies on the regular. The concert tickets we might be able to get, maybe even VIP passes, were enough to get me salivating.

  “Not really, bro. I mean, Shari approved the budget for a theme song, and we need to use it for at least...how many episodes, Shari?”

  Shari winked at me with a smile, letting me know that nothing was locked in. She was like my surrogate mom here in Philly, and I sure as hell appreciated it, as much as I hated that she hadn't consulted me on this first. “Looks like ten episodes to keep it in budget, Ethan,” Shari interrupted over the com.

  “Ten. Shari says ten,” Ethan said to the audience. “So, I think that means we'd like Mark to embark back into the land of living, virile men and start looking for a girlfriend. And, Mark, I'm not talking about just any girlfriend, mmmkay? I mean, you're hardly an old dog, but I think I speak for myself and everyone who knows you that you should learn some new tricks before you settle down.”

  Jesus. Ten weeks was three months. I had to try to get girls to…go out with me? Every week? For three months straight? “What does that mean? Exactly?”

  “It means grab some new experiences, man! How many girlfriends have you ever had?”

  “Um. Just one.” He knew damn well it had only ever been Kylie. She’d been the only one willing to see the real me, when everyone else wrote me off as a wallflowered, socially awkward geek. I’d only dated here and there in college. A couple girls had gone out with me more than once, but it had never gone farther than that. Until Kylie. I sighed. “What sort of experiences are we talking about? Exactly?”

  “Before I answer this question, I'm just going to put out the disclaimer: the Bro Show respects anyone who wants to limit their physical experience of loooove to marriage or greater commitment, but this is going to be the beginning of our brand-new romancing segment, should Mark agree to it. We're going to learn about Mark re-learning the art of seduction. He’s gonna use beautiful words, plan incredible dates. He’s gonna polish up his kissing skills, and his…other skills.”

  I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead, barely holding back a groan.

  “He’s gonna have new experiences to delight the senses, man! And any local companies that want to contribute to that exploration? Well, we're all too happy to accept. For the most part.”

  Oh, God. Maybe it was just because I knew Ethan really well, or maybe it was the crystal-clear innuendo bleeding into every one of his words. But I was pretty damn sure he was asking for hotel rooms, condoms, and sex toys.

  “And how in the hell am I supposed to find a girl to agree to this?”

  “Hey, bro, calm down. It's just you we're trying to embarrass. It can be ten different girls. It can be the same one the whole time, if you get damn lucky. Of course, the girl or girls will remain anonymous unless you decide otherwise. The only thing ‘the girlfriend’ cannot be is your hand.” Ethan punched one of the specialized sound effect buttons next to his mic. badum-chhh!

  I rolled my eyes.

  As annoyed as I was at being blindsided by this whole thing, I had to admit two things.

  One: it was pretty damn clever. We'd been beating our heads against a wall, trying to figure out which new segment to add to the show. Shari had been begging us to find a way to appeal to more female listeners for over a month.

  Two: Ethan was right; I was getting really tired of dating my own hand. Maybe this was just the push I needed, even though my heart twisted at the idea of touching, kissing, being with anyone like I had been with Kylie. I still missed her, dammit.

  “Now,” Ethan continued, “Mark has almost no experience.”

  I glared at him and leaned into the mic, ready to shoot back.

  “No, no. Sorry, man. I mean, he has a lot of experience with one girl. But she went to L.A. to be a TV star. She wanted to experience more of life, I think she said, right, buddy?” His voice pitched up just like it always did when he did that annoying impression of Kylie.

  I shot him a death glare, surprised that I didn’t even feel the burn of tears at the corners of my eyes, like I would have any other time.

  “Time for my man M&M to experience some shit, huh? We want him to try something new. Something he's never done before. Something fun. Those are the only parameters, and since we don't have any sponsors yet, he's gonna have to get creative. So, Mark, are you up to the challenge?”

  Ethan started up the stupid Whiz Kid theme again, just the annoying first few chords. He must have programmed clips from it into his grid controller this morning, dammit. He made a motion with his hand, hurrying my answer along. He was right; I had to say something. Dead air on the radio wasn't called “dead” for nothing.

  I obviously didn't have a ton of time to think, so, for the first time in a very long time, I let my gut answer for me. “Sure,” I said shakily. “Why not?”

  Ethan pushed another one of his annoying buttons, fake sitcom-audience applause echoing throughout the studio.

  “All right ladies, you heard him. Oh, and, one more thing. Mark here is straight as an arrow. We love all our gay bro listeners, but that's just not how he swings. Right, friend?”

  “Right,” I said, pushing certainty into my voice. I was only interested, romantically and otherwise, in women. That, I'd never been unsure about.

  Unfortunately, that was where my confidence in the dating department ended. Women were a damn mystery to me, and Kylie had made it all so easy. Huh. Maybe I would learn something here. My brow furrowed at the thought. Score one more point for Ethan.

  “So, ladies out there, if you listen to The Bro Show, I automatically deem you acceptable for dating Mark. Applications accepted starting now. Tell us about yourself. Send a picture if you want. Don’t worry, our Mark is many things, but he is not shallow. And please, girls, only someone who can teach him something new. Got it? Good.”

  He pointed at Toby one more time, and my gaze shifted her way. My breath hitched in my chest when I realized she was looking right at me with her head tilted slightly, like she was considering something about me. She hadn’t seen Ethan point, so I gestured to Ethan and she whipped her head over to look at him, then fumbled for the right button again.

  Her cheeks flushed, and she was obviously embarrassed by the fumble, even though she shouldn’t have been. It was only her first day. Damn adorable, that's what she was.

  So adorable that the over-the-top crooning of my name and how I was looking for a girlfriend faded away to almost nothing.

  The only thing that mattered right that minute was Toby Eisen, the new sound engineer on the show where a main focus was now, apparently, going to be about me looking for a girlfriend.

  Great.

  Chapter 3

  Toby

  Shari ran me though a few questions I had with the soundboard after the show. It was a bit different from the ones we'd worked with in class in a couple areas, but I walked out of the control room feeling pretty smug when Shari patted me on the back and said she thought I'd do just fine in this apprenticeship.

  “Learning the equipment and developing an ear for good, cohesive sound is important,” she said as she closed out the files from that day’s recording, “but equally important is getting a feel for the personalities on the other end of the mic. Not just that, but managing how they sound together. You’ll get to know Mark and Ethan better than you know most of your friends.” That idea had made my stomach flip, just a little.

  I'd be riding the buzz from a first day on the job gone great for a while, and my mind raced through a list of things I could do with myself until my head and my heart chilled out enough to sleep.

  I loved Philadelphia’s busy but slightly serious vibe, so different from L.A., where I’d grown up. It was nice being surrounded by young professionals who all seemed to be working their hearts out toward a goal, but sometimes it made it that much harder to get the rest I needed.

  I let out a long sigh as I pushed my way out into the hallway, eager to take a deep breath of cool fresh air—well, as fresh as it could possibly be in downtown Philly.

  “Hey. You okay?” The voice coming from the studio’s front desk sounded exhausted. Beaten. I was a little surprised to see the sandy-blond head belonging to Mark Mahler, the guy who was so upbeat and good-natured on the other side of the glass just twenty minutes earlier.

  “Yeah,” I replied with a soft smile. “Just tired. And, not tired, at the same time. Nothing new for me.”

  He bobbed his head and cracked his knuckles, flicking his head to the monitor—where he'd navigated to Facebook—and clicked around halfheartedly. His long fingers, tapped softly against the mouse, which indicated calluses on the tips. He was a guitar player, then. In my experience, guitar players’ fingers were exceptional at tapping against certain other things too…

  The room felt very hot, and I focused on taking a deep breath, turning my attention back to Mark a second later. He hadn’t even noticed my lapse, still spacing out in front of the computer. He looked like he was lost and anchored hopelessly in place all at the same time.

  It was becoming very obvious very quickly that Mark Mahler was one person while doing the show, and another in the quiet, empty studio. “Are you okay?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He chuckled halfheartedly. “Didn't you hear? I'm looking for a girlfriend. You’re looking at a guy about to get flooded with offers for dates.”

  I stepped over to the desk, plunking myself down in one of the chairs facing it. “It won’t be that bad, you know. Lots of guys would probably love to be in your position.”

  He turned his blue eyes to me. “I’m not lots of guys.” His mustache twitched with the barest of smiles. “As Ethan helpfully told the entire city, I don’t know what I’m doing. And…I don’t think I really want to. I’m not ready.”

  I controlled my breath, bit back the words that my curiosity so badly wanted to let out. Was he still in love with his ex? Had she really dumped him as rudely as Ethan made it sound like she had? But I was curious, not rude. I wouldn’t ask him those questions—not now, mere hours after we’d met.

  I touched the desk next to his arm, placing just my index and middle fingers on the smooth surface next to the hand that was clicking aimlessly through his Facebook feed. “Hey, Mark, thanks for making me feel comfortable here today. I'm not usually nervous, but starting this apprenticeship was an exception.”

  His piercing blue eyes met mine, wide with surprise and searching for the meaning behind my words all at the same time.

  “Yeah? Well...uh...I'm glad. Toby. I mean”—he cleared his throat and I fought to keep my suddenly quickened breathing from being obvious—”it’s great to have you,” he finished, watching me like I was a rare bird that might suddenly decide to fly away. My heart stuttered, and my hand clenched in surprise. Maybe I hadn't had enough to eat today.

  “I heard everything that went on today,” I said softly. “Forgive me for saying so, but you didn’t seem like you were fully expecting that whole 'Mark is looking for a girlfriend' segment.”

  He sighed and gave me a gentle, resigned smile. “I wasn’t…uh, didn't, but I guess it is time. It's been awhile. Since...well, I don't want to bore you.”

  I felt my lips twitch into a smile, and realized that I still hadn't moved my hand from where it rested just a couple inches from his arm. An arm that was decently muscled, I now noticed.

  “Well, if it helps, I've dated kind of a lot. My friend Liz said I should list it under ‘hobbies’.”

  It was true. Liz and I had become friends after I tried to poach her man a year ago. Luckily, she had forgiven me for my unintended intrusion on their burgeoning romance.

  Mark watched me, his expression half-dazed, half-confused.

  “If you want to hang out and call it a date this first week,” I clarified, “that would be fine with me.”

  Hearing those words fall out of my mouth even took me by surprise. “Nice” was not a word people ever used to describe me, and if I was generous in any area, it most certainly wasn’t dating.

  I had sworn off dating, but that was only so that I could focus on this internship and finish my classes with top grades. It was too easy for me to lose my head in the excitement of a new relationship, and I was grateful for that self-awareness.

  But the dating I typically did and dating Mark Mahler had almost zero intersection. Right? The guys I'd always dated, by definition, were smooth and sure of themselves. Ridiculously handsome, too. I dated them because my constantly learning brain craved someone who had something to teach me, some door to open that would give me a glimpse of something new. The thought that, by dating a guy, I could discover another facet of the world, maybe find something I never knew I would love otherwise, was a turn-on for me. That was why I dated guys. Pissing off my parents with guys they didn’t approve of for whatever reason was a close second.

  “Oh, no,” he said with a wave of his hand.

  What? He was turning me down? This was a first.

  “I mean, it’s…I’m sure you don’t…I’m not…”

  I gave a cursory laugh through a tight-lipped smile. “Okay then. I'll see you Tuesday, I guess.” He looked at me blankly. “For the planning meeting? I assume I’m supposed to be there?”

  “Oh!” Mark practically yelled, making me jump in my seat. I held back a laugh. “Yeah. I mean, the sound guy—or, you know, girl, in your case, or, um, woman—they usually don’t come to those meetings. But you should. Definitely should. Yeah.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Shari told me I could.”

  “You could! And should. And…yeah. I’ll see you then.”

  Okay. I stood up and turned to leave, surprised when I felt his long fingers snag mine. I turned, tugging my hand back gently. Mark’s face had taken on a grayish pallor, his mouth working between half-open and closed, his eyes refusing to meet mine. “I just went through a breakup. My…um, Kylie, we were…long term.”

  Oh. Of course. The persona who’d agreed to date for ten weeks on The Bro Show just an hour ago was not the same as the guy sitting here. This guy was still totally wrecked by the last girl who’d been lucky enough to…oh hell. What was going on with me? Mark was exactly the kind of guy I’d never been drawn to. He was unremarkable, and sad, and aimless. And yet…