Page 84 of The Build-a-Boyfriend Project

“You know, despite us sharing the same plumbing, I’m not sure I’d be able to give you what you need,” Eli says with his hands over his face.

“At least you know where the clit is. Not many men can say that.”

“Fair enough.”

“What’s got you down, clown?” Patricia crosses her long legs, accentuated by the flared pants that she wears. Eli’s always been jealous of just how effortless her style seems, how she bleeds confidence almost naturally, even though he knows better than anyone how long it takes her to get ready. “Boy problems?”

Eli thinks for a moment, hating how easy it is to see right through him. “Nothing, just . . . Michael . . .” Eli lies, almost daring to tell Patricia the truth, just to have someone, anyone who he could open up to about this. He almost does.

Almost.

But he can’t bring himself to. “I don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

“So, it’s Friday,” Patricia says, leaning all the way back in the desk chair.

“That is a fact, yes.” Eli types out a last-minute reply to an email from the marketing team before he shuts off his computer.

“We’re doing something!”

Eli feels his mood sink further. “I don’t know if I want to—”

“Come on, we’ve all been so busy this week. I’m cracking under this deadline and I’ve got a model demanding she renegotiate her contract, Rose had a kid lose their two front teeth thanks to a kickball to the face, and you . . . well.”

Eli stares at his best friend, a blank expression on his face.

“Self-explanatory.”

“Thanks,” he grumbles. “I don’t think I’m feeling tonight, though.” It’s the perfect night to sit on the couch, the window open, letting a nice breeze in while he bundles under a blanket with his heating pad, turning on a horrible horror movie while getting high, devouring the bag of Oreo-flavored popcorn in the pantry that’s been calling his name all week.

“Come onnn!” Patricia whines, spinning back and forth in the chair. “We haven’t gone out in weeks! Plus they’re doing a Halloween thing at Mulholland Drive.”

“I’ve never understood that place. Mulholland Drive is in LA, and whoever named it definitely didn’t see the movie.”

Patricia rolls her eyes so far back that Eli can see the whites fluttering. “God, you’re such a dork.”

“Why are they even doing a Halloween party?” Eli asks. He’s usually such a fan of the holiday, but it wasn’t even on his radar this year. “It’s not for weeks.”

“What about gay people makes you think they’ll only celebrate Halloween on Halloween?”

He has to give her that one. “I don’t have a costume.”

“Okay, I have angel wings you can borrow, you can be every basic white twink out tonight.”

“I’m tired, Patricia,” Eli tells her. That, and there’s a twisting in his stomach that he can’t escape, and the last thing he wants to do is go to a crowded club with pounding music that’ll just make him feel worse tomorrow morning.

“For me?” She bats her eyelashes. “Just for a few hours, come on. We’ll get Mickey’s afterward.”

Because the only thing that could make him feel worse than alcohol are boozy milkshakes. But Eli’s never been able to turn down Patricia, no matter how hard he’s tried. Back in college, she was constantly pulling him out of his dorm to go to parties and showcases that were far too cool for him. But if it wasn’t for Patricia, he wouldn’t have made any friends during those four years.

“Patricia . . .” Eli moans.

But she just keeps staring at him with those bright brown eyes of hers.

And eventually, he relents. “Fine.”

“Yes!”

“But I’m not dressing up,” he tells her.