“Hi, Elissa.”
“Hey, you texted. What’s up?”
“I got the days wrong. They closed at five today. It seems I keep owing you apologies.”
She waved it away, a forgiving smile on her face. Would she forgive him if he kissed her again, right here, right now?
Professional, asshole.
“Um, we could go to a different library. Or a restaurant.” She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.
Or my place. He quashed the idea before the words could escape into the real world. His place would be a horrible idea. Iz had a late shift tonight at the steakhouse, covering for the manager who had a family emergency. Ryan didn’t need the temptation. She wanted to keep their relationship professional, and he would oblige.
“There’s a couple of restaurants in the strip mall down the street,” Ryan suggested.
Elissa’s face hid whatever she was thinking, a blank canvas behind which he could only guess what was going on, but he could’ve sworn her cheeks were a bit pinker than they had been a moment ago. She took a deep breath and strung her words together so quickly it took his brain a moment to decipher what she said.
“I don’t live far. We could go to my apartment.”
He stood there like a dumbass for a moment longer than he should have.
“I’m sorry, forget it.” Elissa ducked her head and bit her lip. “That’s a terrible idea, isn’t it?”
“No! No, it’s a great idea.” Maybe she was offering because she had a roommate. God, he hoped she did. Wait, no, he hoped she didn’t. Elissa had him as spun out as a load of laundry. “Give me your address, and I’ll grab some takeout on the way over.”
Ryan didn’t know how strong his grip on his phone was until she tried to take it from his hands. He made himself let go. After she put in her address, she handed it back. Her cheeks were red now. Perhaps she didn’t want to keep it professional after all.
“I’ll see you soon.” She started her car, and Ryan realized he’d forgotten an important question.
“I forgot to ask,” he said before she could roll up the window. “What do you want?”
She smiled, a beautiful smile that showed her dimple and made her eyes sparkle in the evening light. “I’m not picky. Whatever is fine.”
Ryan watched her drive off, then headed over to his motorcycle. Was this a test? A woman he’d dated a couple of years ago had loved to test him. She’d expected him to be some sort of fucking mind reader. Or was Elissa a woman who sacrificed her wants in favor of whatever person she was dating, like his mother? Everything he’d learned about women over the last decade made him distrust this seemingly simple request, but everything he’d learned about Elissa told him to take what she’d said at face value.
Only one way to find out. He put on his helmet and headed to the Thai place he knew on this side of the city.
thirty-three
that’s a big word
Holy cow, holy shit!
What had she done? The words had just popped out of her mouth, her mental filter loaded with holes the size of semitrucks. Why? Why would her brain do this to her? She treated it well. She ate healthy, got plenty of exercise and rest. Why would it betray her now?
Elissa parked Bertha at a ridiculous angle and ran up the stairs. Jules’s stuff was everywhere—five blankets on the couch, dirty dishes on the coffee table, dirty clothes piled next to the door, and clean clothes in a basket next to the TV.
“Crap!”
It was going to be one of those nights. She dropped her bag on the end table, pulled out a twenty, and added it to the small collection in a jar on the kitchen table. Jules teased her, saying Elissa was a goddamned adult and didn’t need a swear jar. But some habits were hard to break, and she would treat Jules to a night out when it was full.
She grabbed the piles and chucked them into her BFF’s room but kept the dirty and clean clothes separate. She was panicked, not a jerk.
She gathered the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, cleared the kitchen table of mail and Jule’s spare bag, and looked for any incriminating evidence. Evidence of what, she had no clue. That other men had been here recently? Jules had frequent guests, but they rarely stayed the night. At most, they’d leave a shirt or a sock.
Knock, knock, knock.
Just in time. She ran a hand over her hair, trying not to look like she’d spent the last twenty minutes running around the apartment trying to clean. Elissa smiled and opened the door.
