“Whoever ropes the guy first—that one wins.”
“Ropes him?” I raise my eyebrows. “What do you mean by that?”
“Five dates. No sex.”
I snort.
“Sure,” I say to her, “and who are you offering as targets for the hunt?”
“Oh, let it be him.”
Lena points to the side. I shift my gaze and at first I notice broad shoulders, wrapped in a gray T-shirt. I look lower—narrow hips and a gorgeous butt. Tall, muscular… I hope there are no traces of chickenpox on his face.
“We’re booked,” I slap Lena’s outstretched palm. “So who do we have here?”
“Gordey Tikhomirov.”
What? Who? Gordey Tikhomirov? The same pimply, big, boring nerd I tormented all those school years? Damn it!”