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He leaned back in his chair with his OJ in his hand. “Do you like Brooklyn so far? You’ve talked about how different it feels, but sometimes different can be good.”

I thought about it. “I actually do like it. It feels very homey, very neighborhood-y. But at the same time, it also feels like no one is really paying attention to you, and you can be whoever you want.”

He nodded. “That’s pretty spot on.”

“And it’s beautiful,” I added. “When I went out for my run this morning, I felt lifted up right away. The trees, the brownstones…there’s something about the way the light filters through everything that makes it feel cinematic.”

“I see it that way, too.” He looked at me, holding my gaze for a moment. “And I agree. It’s beautiful around here.”

A flurry of butterflies took off in my stomach. He wasn’t talking about me being beautiful. But it was easy to pretend he was. And for a second, I let myself.

“Yeah.” I smiled. “It really is.”

The rest of breakfast passed easily—light conversation, a few jokes, him telling me a story about a glass installation that had gone wrong and landed him in the emergency room. I laughed more than I had in days. It was effortless to talk to Rafe. He asked questions. Let things sit. Let me sit with them. He didn’t throw around empty phrases like it’ll get better and you’ll get used to it.

Somewhere along the way, probably an hour after I should’ve left, I realized I might’ve gone a little farther past that invisible line I’d been trying so hard not to step over.

“I should get going,” I told him.

Rafe leaned a hip against the kitchen counter. We’d fallen into a comfortable rhythm—him washing, me drying, us standing side by side like it was something we did all the time.

“Which museum you hitting today?”

“Natural History, I think.”

“Nice.” He nodded. “Good choice.”

I wanted to ask him to come with me, especially since he’d said it was one of his favorites. But something about that felt wrong—even more wrong than sitting here opening up to him and not my boyfriend.

I grabbed my phone from the table. “Thanks again for breakfast.”

“Anytime.” His voice was easy, but his eyes lingered a second longer than necessary. “Let me know how you like the museum.”

“I will.”

I hesitated, but then made myself head for the door.

And this time I managed not to look back.

CHAPTER 8

It’s so damn quiet.

Later that night, I sat in the apartment, staring at nothing in particular. I’d had a great day at the museum, but now that I was home alone, an antsy feeling had crept in, leaving me restless and uneasy. Rafe’s door had been open when I got back an hour ago, and I’d been bursting to tell him about my day. But I knew he wasn’t the one I should be excited to tell.

Eventually, I picked up my phone and called the man I should have wanted to talk to. Calder answered on the third ring.

“Hey,” I greeted him. “Are you busy?”

There was noise in the background, then it went quiet. “No, just watching a baseball game.”

“Oh.” I forced a smile, though he couldn’t see me. “That’s nice. How was your day?”

“Busy. They’re training us on this new financial modeling program. It does M&A forecasting and LBOs and stuff. It’s pretty cool, but there’s a lot to learn.”

I had no idea what any of that meant. Normally, I would’ve asked. But tonight, I didn’t. “I went to a museum today. It was amazing.”

“Oh yeah? Which one?”