Going for Broke: Oakland Hills Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Friends with Benefits) Read Online Free PDF

more about him. Especially not the good things, such as how he was brilliant and ridiculously nice, even when she was throwing Doritos and making smooching noises from behind the couch.
    Years later, when he’d broken up with her sister and they were all out of school, and Jane living in LA, Billie had been glad to become friends with him. Carpooling up to see their mothers, she’d thought he seemed lonely and isolated, without much of a life outside work, even after he’d quit the corporate grind and started his own company. She’d always thought it was good for him to hang out with a normal person like her, who had some college but no degree, a full-time job but no money.
    Hang out. Not go out or stay in .
    Friends.
    Straightening quickly, she turned her attention to the job at hand. And not his hands, which were tanned and attached to well-muscled forearms.
    “I’d love to do it now, but we probably shouldn’t,” he said.
    Swallowing a smile, she nodded. Definitely shouldn’t .
    “Let me show you the rest of the house,” she said.

Chapter 7
    I an got to his feet and watched Billie walk away. She wore tight jeans and a short black hoodie, nothing particularly unusual or evocative, but he found himself staring at her butt longer than he should have.
    Wafting cat odor reminded him of where he was and whose body he was admiring. Getting to his feet, he brushed off his knees—something sticky clung to his palms afterward, so he had to brush those off as well—and followed Billie down a hallway into a dark room at the back.
    “Could you help me? She never opened these.” Billie was tugging at the heavy curtains covering everything from floor to ceiling. Not a hint of light broke through from outside.
    After tripping over something on the floor, he took out his pocket flashlight and flicked it on. Around them crowded heavy furniture and piles of stacked boxes as tall as he was.
    “Technically, this is the living room,” she said. “She never used it, though. She always kept the door closed. I’ve been dying to know what it really looks like.” With a grunt, she continued to pull at the curtains.
    Aiming his flashlight over her head, he saw the way the drapes were attached. “Hold it. They’re nailed to the wall.”
    Billie stopped and let out a loud sigh. “Oh, Grammy. Seriously?”
    “I’ll get my gear. Just a second.” He returned a few minutes later with his hammer and a small crowbar. “Think there’s a ladder around here?”
    “I’ve never seen one. Maybe in—”
    “Never mind. See if you can find a working lamp,” he said. “I’m going to get my ladder out of my truck.”
    When he got back, she’d dragged a light in from somewhere and was pointing it at the curtains. “I can’t believe she nailed them. She must’ve done that ages ago, before she hurt her hip.” She paused. “Is that duct tape?”
    He set up the ladder and climbed up to where she was pointing. “Afraid so.” In a few minutes, he’d removed six nails and torn away three layers of tape, freeing the corner of the curtain so that a beam of bright morning sun streamed in. Dust motes floated in the light, shimmering like fireflies.
    Billie sneezed.
    “There are masks in my bag,” he said. “Help yourself.”
    “I’ll be all right.”
    “I insist,” he said. “And please get me one too.”
    Wearing their low-budget hazmat equipment, they removed dozens of square yards of thick, dusty, mildewy fabric. Each inch encouraged them to go faster, because they were revealing a stunning, sunny view of San Francisco, the bay, the Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz, and the slopes of the East Bay hills around them. The world outside was much more appealing than the one inside.
    “Guess she didn’t like the view,” he said.
    “She was afraid of heights.” Billie had both hands pressed up against the glass and was peering out in wonder. “Look at the yard. Well, what used to be a yard.”
    He looked down into a flat, wide plot