He glances at his watch. “It’s a fifteen-minute cab ride over. Start talking.”

I glance back once at Kyle, to see his narrowed eyes. It’s fine, I mouth. Though I don’t know if I believe that. Barely twenty-four hours and we’ve already been found out, by the one guy who will go running to my father.

Kyle is sitting on the park bench across from my building when my cab pulls up at half past nine, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, his arm resting on his backpack. The mere sight of him there, waiting for me, gets my blood racing.

I pay the driver and then slide out of the taxi, just as Kyle rounds the back end of it.

“I thought you were going to wait for me inside?” I sink into his firm body, reveling in the scent of his soap and cologne as my hands slide over his side, smoothing over his back. “Did Ashley not let you up?”

“It’s okay. It’s a nice night out.” He wraps his arms around me. “I wanted to meet you down here.”

“I’m sorry. Dinner took way longer than I expected it to.” I stretch onto my tiptoes and press my mouth against his, releasing a moan at how soft his lips are. “I have been waiting all day to do that.”

“I know. Me, too.” He pushes a wayward strand of hair off my face. “How did your meeting go?”

“Which one?” I grumble. David forced me to go for a drink with him afterward to grill me on all things Kyle and kickbacks. He knows everything now. My summer at Wawa, the payout from my father, how Kyle overheard Tripp. Everything. “We’ve got our anchor tenant. Contracts are getting signed this week.” It took David’s silky tongue and me faking reluctance while agreeing to bend on a few minor clauses, but it’s as good as done.

Kyle’s golden eyes twinkle with amusement. “I have no idea what that means.”

I pull away, slipping my hands into his. “Well, then come inside and let me teach you all about the thrilling world of real estate development.”

“What was all that with Mr. Maserati in the lobby?”

“He figured it out.”

“It?” His eyebrows rise. “You mean us?”

“Yeah. Apparently you stripped me with your eyes and I was oozing pheromones or something.”

“True. And . . .” He grins. “Definitely true.”

My cheeks flush. “What is with you guys? Honestly.”

The humor slides from his face. “So, what does this mean? Do I need to be putting in for a building transfer tonight? Am I going to be escorted out tomorrow?” He swallows, looking ready to say something else, but he doesn’t.

“I would never let that happen. And David was . . . okay about it.” Or at least tolerable. He listened and kept his insults to a minimum. “He promised he wouldn’t say anything. That was surprising, actually.”

“And you believe him?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t have a choice. If he thought you were just some guy I was screwing, there’s no way he would have kept quiet. But I’ve probably bought us a few weeks. Hoping, anyway.”

He nods slowly. “As long as you can control those pheromones of yours.”

I poke his side, earning his smirk.

“It feels like being at Wawa again, doesn’t it? Pretending not to be together all day long?”

“You’re right. And I didn’t like it then, either.” I fall into his body with a groan, marveling at how comfortable I am with Kyle, how easily I throw myself at him after just one night back in his arms, not caring if this needy, emotional version of me doesn’t match up with the hard-nosed version that just negotiated a multimillion-dollar rental deal over grilled salmon. “Come on, I’ve been waiting to get you upstairs all day.”

A soft curse slips through Kyle’s lips as we step through my front door.

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, smoothing his hand over the small of my back. “Nothing. Just . . . this place is nice.”

I set my purse on the hallway desk and kick off my heels, sighing with relief as my bare feet hit the cool hardwood. “Make yourself at home. Seriously.”

“Is that you guys?” Ashley hollers, and I hear the twinge of excitement in her voice.

“Depends on which ‘you guys’ you mean,” I call back, smiling and slipping my hand into Kyle’s to lead him in.

Ashley is sitting cross-legged on the couch, with balls of pink and white yarn scattered beside her, a knitting needle in each hand. Her eyes widen at the sight of Kyle. “Oh my God!” Casting her blanket aside, she leaps up and runs for him, throwing herself into his arms. “I can’t believe it!”

Kyle is grinning as they embrace. It’s an entirely different response than he got from Christa. “Good to see you, too, Ash.”

She pulls away, smoothing her blouse over her hips. “This is crazy, isn’t it? Us, all together again like this?”

He cocks his head, peering down at her with genuine affection. “How have you been?”

She shrugs. “Single and looking for a job. You know . . . living the dream.” They share an awkward laugh. “Oh, hey, Piper, those chairs Marcelle picked out arrived today. Wait ’til you see them.” Her emerald eyes light up. “She’s so good.”

Ashley and my interior decorator have hit it off, exchanging dozens of emails a day. Somehow the scope has expanded to include the patio, as well as my home office and the empty sitting area in my bedroom.

Her gaze shifts back to Kyle. “Piper mentioned that you still talk to Eric, right?”

“Uh . . . yeah. ” Kyle nods, ducking his head. “It’s been a while, though.”

She slides her hands into her pockets. “Say hi to him for me, next time, will ya?”

“I will. For sure,” he promises, his eyes solemn. “Do you want him doing that?” He points to something behind us.

I follow Kyle’s gaze to the couch, where Elton is batting at the white ball of yarn that Ashley’s using.

“Hey! No! Don’t you do that!” she scolds, charging for the living room. Elton takes off, skittering across the floor with the yarn, dragging her blanket behind him. “Bad kitty!”

Kyle frowns at Elton as the cat races past us, having abandoned his toy. “What’s wrong with his tail?”

“Anxiety.”

His dark eyebrows rise. “Cats get anxiety?”

“This one does.” I slip my hand into his once again, intent on not letting go for the rest of the night. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

“And this is my bedroom.” The last room to show him in my condo, with the added surprise of two silver-blue wing chairs and a creamy shag rug now set next to the gas fireplace. Marcelle has exquisite taste.

Kyle hasn’t said much through the tour. Now he stops in the middle of the room, tossing his backpack as he takes it all in. His gaze drifts to the French doors. “Is that a different patio than the other one?”

“Yeah. But it’s just a small one.” I push my bedroom door closed.

“ ‘Just a small one,’ she says,” he murmurs, strolling over to the other set of doors. He flicks the light switch on. “This is your closet?” His gaze takes in the custom cabinetry and shoe racks.