Page 4 of Hands off his Dudette

Now he'd finished reading his current page, Finn moved to get to his feet and claim some food, but by the time he got up, Anna was walking toward him with a plate.

"Beef with ginger and spring onion on egg fried rice."

He grinned at her. "I should marry you."

She rolled her eyes, like she had every single time he'd said that. "Yeah, right. Like I'd have you. I have to go or I'll be late for girls' night out; can I keep your jacket?"

"Sure." He'd just call a ride when he was done. "I think we'll be done around one, so I'll see you tomorrow. Hopefully."

Anna laughed. "Maybe I won't be done by one. Plenty of cute guys out in the city," she said with a wink, heading out of doors.

Finn watched her back as she retreated, eyes narrowed. He didn't like that one bit. The flirtiness was new. She'd never been that into guys before. Said that her BOB did a better job than any guy's tongue. He knew there was squat he could do about her dating; as a good friend, he should actually encourage it. But he knew guys. He had plenty of friends, went to the gym with a bunch of guys, met college friends for drinks. The one thing all of the single ones had in common was that they loved sex, and would do, and say, just about anything to get under a pretty girl's pants. Men were assholes. If someone hurt Anna, he'd feel obligated to hire a hitman, or something equally dramatic.

"You're a fucking idiot if you're actually not dating her," said Maria Thompson, his favorite one among the senior partners.

She was a beast in the courtroom, and whenever he'd doodled her during a boring meeting, Finn had added a black catsuit and a whip in her hands. It fit. Sometimes, he also drew horns.

He shrugged. "We're too close for that. No way would either of us ruin what we have."

Maria snorted, before heading to his filing cabinet and helping herself to spare ribs.

She wasn't the only one who'd told him that, one way or another. His own brother had hinted at it numerous times, although he'd known Anna for almost as long as Finn had. People just didn't seem to understand that some men and women could be friends, platonically. They had to add some romance to the equation.

"We're happy with what we have," he repeated, before returning to his files.

He ate a bit of beef and smiled. She'd gone to his favorite takeout, although it was a way away.

His best friend was just too important to screw with her—in any capacity.

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