Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Law

Confidence was something I had in abundance. The word swagger had been thrown my way a time or two. That was fine. I could own both those traits. Who didn’t appreciate someone who knew what they wanted and had the balls to go for it?

“Does your family call you Lawrence?” Shepperd asked.

“Not if they expect me to respond,” I chuckled. “Of course, no rules ever apply to our mom because she is the queen of the castle. She does whatever she wants, and we all give in to her every request,” I answered after finishing my wine.

The bottle was empty, and our stomachs were full. I knew going into the evening that the woman ate like a mouse. She had to with how small she was. Like a dumbass, I made way too much food. Now I’d be eating the leftovers for every meal for the rest of the week.

“I’m a bit embarrassed to ask you this,” she said while looking adorably shy. Not a look I had seen before on the sassy siren. But I kind of liked it, or more so that I brought it out in her.

“I’m an open book,” I assured her and sat back more comfortably on my seat. “Ask away.”

“What do you do? For a job, I mean?” She set her fork down and groaned. “I can’t eat another bite. Honestly, that was incredible.”

“I’m glad you liked it. Next time I’ll know to leave out the olives.” I snuck her a quick wink so she wouldn’t feel self-conscious about the little mound of black olive pieces pushed far to one side of her plate.

“Sorry,” she apologized and set her napkin over the offending pile.

“No need to apologize, darling,” I reassured. “I didn’t know you didn’t like them, so my apologies as well. As far as employment, I lead the sales team for one of my father’s companies. My education was focused on marketing, and it just kind of dovetailed into the spot I’m in now.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“For the most part. It’s not easy being in his shadow all the time, but it has been incredible learning from him. Seems like I’m constantly screwing something up, though. He’s a very tough guy to please. Seemingly impossible standards.”

“That must be parents’ inclination. I go through much of the same with mine. Though not with regard to my employment.” She shrugged. “They don’t even know I have a job.”

“Are you not close?” I asked, trying to learn more about her.

“Hmmm, that’s a complicated subject,” she said but didn’t explain further.

I tilted my chin slightly and waited, hoping she’d open up a bit. The woman intrigued me more than any I’d associated with lately. She was smart and damn clever. When we had light, joking back-and-forth exchanges, she gave as good as she got. I appreciated it when a person didn’t take everything so seriously. Made me look forward to talking to her.

Shepperd finished the last of her wine and exhaled heavily. “There are seven in my family. My parents and five girls. I actually have a twin.” She gave a rare, genuine smile after that detail and quickly added, “And no, we don’t sleep with guys together, so don’t even ask about your chances.”

“Damn,” I teased. “Just when I thought I’d get to cross something off my bucket list!”

“You’d be shocked how many times I’ve had to address the topic,” she said with one of the best eye rolls I’d ever seen.

“No, I know guys are pigs. Add to that how gorgeous you are, and I’m guessing you’re beating guys off with a stick all the time.”

“Well, that’s probably overstating things a bit, but my sisters are all beautiful. We all look very similar, and since we’re so close in age, people tend to notice us,” she shared while carrying her plate to the sink.

“Let me clean up since you cooked,” she insisted.

“You’re my guest,” I said, taking the dish directly from her hand. “I’d much rather sit and talk more. Let’s get comfortable in the next room, and I’ll clean this up later.”

She looked like she wanted to protest, and I appreciated her wanting to help. I’d cooked for women in the past who didn’t lift a finger or even offer to. They’d just expected to be waited on, and it was a turn-off. I loved taking care of a woman in all ways. But it meant so much more when it was appreciated, not expected.

“How about an after-dinner drink? More wine?” I offered before we took seats on the sofa.

“Hmm, as nice as that sounds, I’m driving. Better not,” she replied with a frown.

“One more and we’ll see where the night goes?” I asked hopefully. I thought she was way more at ease now that she had a few glasses of wine in her, and I really didn’t want the night to end. I wouldn’t presume she wanted to spend the night, but I definitely wouldn’t turn her down if things went in that direction.

“See? This is why I’m going to call you Danger. You’re very tempting. Seductive without trying.” She looked down with that shyness again. Her age became noticeably younger in that moment.

So I asked the dreaded question. It was the point a guy either became completely freaked out or way more interested. And God, I wanted the second option with more hope than I should feel about a girl I barely knew.

“Can I ask how old you are? I think we’ve all gotten a little too used to these online dating apps where you get a fact list about the person before you even start talking to someone. Since we met in person first, some of these things seem awkward to just outright ask. So, I’m sorry if I’m coming across as bold.” It felt like I was rambling out of nervousness and was acutely aware of not liking the feeling.

She studied me before answering. “I’m twenty-two. What about you? I’m thinking you’re at least five or maybe seven years older than I am.”

“Does that bother you?” I asked rather than admit I just turned thirty.

“I wouldn’t be here if it did, would I?”

I grinned at her sassy reply. “No, I guess you wouldn’t. I don’t get the impression you do anything other than exactly what you want to do. Exactly when you want to do it.”

“Hmm, well, sometimes I do. I used to be a major pushover.” She shook her head and said, “Not anymore, though. Those days are done.”

She finished that comment with solid conviction, and I wanted to ask more questions. It seemed like something in particular brought about the change, but I didn’t feel comfortable enough yet to get that personal. I’d store it away, though, for another time. There was a sadness lurking in her, and that comment brought it to the forefront.

An uncomfortable silence grew between us, and I scooped her hand into mine and gave it a soft squeeze.

Finally, she met my eyes again, and unexplainably, I said, “I’m sorry.”

With a slight tilt to her head, she asked, “Sorry? For what?”

“I’m not sure,” I forced a small laugh. “You looked sad all of a sudden, and I thought if it was something I said, I should apologize. It was the last thing I was going for,” I assured her.

“No, I’m not sad. A little tired. Maybe that’s what you’re picking up on,” she lied. Terribly. I knew the difference between sad and sleepy but decided to drop it and move on. I wasn’t looking to ruin the night.

“Well, you’re more than welcome to spend the night here. I have several guest rooms, so you don’t have to drive if you’re too tired.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” she said but gave no hint if she’d take me up on the offer. “You never answered my question,” she reminded as she wove her fingers through mine and waited.

“You were very close. I’m thirty.”

“I’m a little surprised you haven’t settled down already,” she said with a smile, but I wasn’t sure if she was teasing or not.

“Most of my friends are still single. I have a couple in long-term relationships, but other than that…” Why did I feel like I was defending my life choices here?

After giving my hand a gentle squeeze, she said, “I meant because you’re obviously a very eligible man. I’m surprised some woman hasn’t staked her claim on you already,” she hurried to explain, maybe sensing my defensiveness.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so defensive. I get a lot of shit from my parents about not finding a nice girl to settle down with. I think the minute I hear anything that sounds like that, I shift into a defensive posture. But you didn’t deserve all that.”

She put her other hand on my forearm and looked me right in the eye while saying, “Law, it’s fine. Stop apologizing for everything. I’m not the kind of girl who takes everything the wrong way. I knew what you meant while you were saying it.”

“You’re very smart for such a young lady.” And please don’t stop touching me. Both spots where her hands made contact with my body were noticeably heating up.

“Does our age difference bother you?” she asked pointedly. Fair enough, I had asked her something similar only minutes before.

“No, not at all,” I replied without thought. Because honestly, it didn’t.

We sat for a few beats and just took each other in. The woman was so damn beautiful, I couldn’t decide where to settle my gaze. She smiled while lifting her refilled glass to her mouth, and I tracked her slow movement. I wanted to taste the wine on her lips more than anything else.

After setting my own drink on the coffee table, I slid across the cushion that separated us, took her drink, and set it beside mine.

“Can I kiss you?” I asked, intentionally letting my voice settle deeper in my throat.

“Mmm, yes please,” she said and tilted her chin toward me. “I was hoping you would after the way you were just looking at me.”

Threading my fingers through the hair at her nape, I gripped the back of her neck and tugged her closer. Our mouths met gently at first. Tentatively. She tasted like the wine we were sipping…and sin. Or at least what I thought sinning with this sexy little thing should taste like. Arousal surged through my body and thickened my cock. Damn, I should’ve done this earlier in the night so I might be inside her body by now.

That particular thought encouraged my tongue’s exploration. She was so delicious, I immediately had fantasies forming about tasting her everywhere. We parted, and I watched her slowly open her eyes and grin.

“What is that grin about? Looks very mischievous,” I teased.

“Truth?”

“Always,” I answered easily.

“I was letting my imagination run free,” she whispered. The husky tone of her voice intensified with her arousal, and the sound made my blood heat.

“Care to share?” I asked, appreciating her honesty and bravery.

But she slowly shook her head and tapped her temple. “No. I think I’ll keep that particular one to myself. For now.”

I was getting addicted to her smile. Every version of it. She said so much without saying a word. I could watch her all night.

“You know, I hope I don’t regret saying this, but I really like you,” I admitted.

“Why would you regret saying that? And thank you. I really like you too.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to seem clingy or creepy or anything.”

She chuckled before saying, “Oh, gorgeous man, you are the furthest thing from creepy. Trust me.”

“Had your share of creepers, have you?”

“Hasn’t every girl? Internet dating seems to bring them out of the woodwork. Or at least that has been my experience.” She shook her head slowly and rubbed her forehead.

“That comment sounds like there’s at least one entertaining story behind it. Spill it,” I teased and poked an index finger into her side.

Shepperd shook her head and squirmed out of reach while giggling. “No way.”

I launched myself at her and tickled her sides, and she burst with the most delightfully sultry, rumbly laugh I’d ever heard. The resonance of the sound vibrated through my entire body and made my dick spring right back to attention. From a woman’s laugh? Couldn’t say that had ever happened before.

“Tell me,” I insisted and tickled her sides again while she squirmed beneath me. Playfully I pinned her arms down at her sides, and something switched, like a circuit being blown. Her face went from light, giggling playfulness to sheer terror in the blink of an eye.

“No! Stop!” she shouted and began thrashing beneath me. I released the hold I had on her immediately and sprang to my feet, presenting my hands out in front of me so she could see them both.

“Okay. Okay.” I don’t know why I repeated the word, but I was so thrown at the mood shift I couldn’t get my brain online quickly enough to say anything else. So I said it a third time. “Okay.”

And then silence. Neither of us said a word, but the woman’s panicked breaths sawed in and out of her body in a way that had her entire torso racked with the effort.

Cautiously I said, “I’m so sorry. I’m not sure what just happened, but I assure you it wasn’t my intent. I was just playing around.” I kept my voice quiet and calm and slowly eased back down to the sofa. With my careful movement and quiet voice, I hoped she’d snap out of whatever she was experiencing.

But her wide, wild eyes just darted back and forth. I didn’t want to say anything that would set her off again but couldn’t take the silence. I wanted to hold her and comfort her but instead left plenty of space between our bodies.

“You okay?” I asked. Maybe if she’d talk a little, she’d calm down. When she didn’t reply, I tried, “Shepperd? You good?”

The woman sprang to her feet like she just popped out of a jack-in-the-box. I didn’t miss the tears wetting her cheeks. I didn’t know how to make up for my monumental screw-up. Shit, I wasn’t even sure what I did wrong.

“I should go,” she blurted. Her movements were erratic and frantic, and there was no way in hell I’d let her drive in her current state.

“I think you should settle down before you get behind the wheel, sweetheart. I’d never forgive myself if you were injured or, God forbid, hurt someone else. Want a little more wine to calm your nerves?”

“I’ll be fine,” she clipped and whipped her head back and forth clearly looking for something.

“What? What are you looking for? Please don’t rush off. I don’t think you should drive so upset. Please.” I stepped in front of her while repeating my concern. I reached for her hands, but instead of allowing me to hold them, she quickly drew them in close to her body.

Okay, that hurt a little bit.

“Listen. I’m really sorry. Can we just calm down and not end a great night like this?” I tried again and was starting to lose my patience. I mean, for Christ’s sake, how many times did I have to apologize? I still wasn’t one hundred percent clear about what I did wrong.

In one long, rushed sentence she gave a brief explanation. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. It’s me. My baggage. Where the fuck did I set my purse?”

Apparently that was all the explanation I would get.

“I believe it’s in the kitchen.” I was about to offer to get it, but she beelined out of the room to fetch it herself, and I stood there like a helpless idiot and watched her.

At the front door, she finally paused. I’m not sure she would’ve if I hadn’t physically put my body between her and the exit.

“I had a great time. Thank you for cooking for me. It really was delicious,” she rushed out and punctuated the platitudes with the fakest smile I’d ever seen.

What in the actual hell was going on? The woman’s entire personality transformed from the person I just spent the evening with to this wild, spooked colt.

“Uhhh, you’re welcome?” I replied with a questioning tone. I continued to hold out hope that she’d snap out of whatever she was dealing with. But then I had a flash of clarity and stepped out of the way. I’d had my share of dealing with crazy girls in the past, and if that’s what was happening, she could go. I didn’t have the time or the inclination to get involved with a nutcase again.

And what a bummer of a realization that was. I watched her hurry down my front walk and jump into her car like she was a trauma surgeon rushing to meet a patient in the operating room. Until her red taillights disappeared around the bend in my street, I stood on my sidewalk and watched her go.

When I came back inside, I locked the door behind me and, just for a moment, rested all my weight back against the thing. I had a sink full of dishes to clean up and a second bottle of wine I had just opened to finish while I did so. Not at all how I hoped the night would end, but, well, here I was. I decided to call my brother Jacob to talk while I did the chores so I wouldn’t stew in my head.

His phone rang three times, and I was about to end the call when he picked up.

His deep voice blasted through my phone. “Hello?”

“Whatcha doin’?” I asked with uncharacteristically lazy language.

“Law?” he asked in reply, already confused by my unusual greeting.

“Yeah, man?”

“What’s wrong?” Just from the tone of my voice, my brother already knew something was bothering me. It was the plus and minus of our close relationship. When it came to me, his bullshit meter was finely tuned.

“Why are you asking me that? Can’t a guy just call his brother to say hi?” I tried to infuse the retort with lightness instead of the annoyance I was harboring. He had nothing to do with any of the feelings upending my normal calm, and it would be unfair to pin them on him.

“I suppose a guy could. It’s just that you wouldn’t. So out with it,” Jake carefully demanded.

“Seriously, nothing. I was just doing a little check-in,” I tried again. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why I wasn’t just spilling my guts about the real issue. Probably because I didn’t quite know myself.

“You’re so full of shit,” my brother teased. “Okay, what’s her name?” Without realizing it, he’d hit the bullseye of my issues with one question.

“Shepperd.” I sighed while scraping her uneaten portion of dinner into the trash. “She’s that hottie from the gym I’ve been telling you about.”

“Daaaammnn,” he drew out like a teenage girl.

“What?”

“It’s been a long time since a female had you this turned around. You’ve been talking about this one for a while. Normally you’ve conquered and moved on three times over in this amount of time. Either she’s something special or you’re losing your game, brother,” Jacob teased, and the assertion rubbed me wrong. Probably because it was really close to the truth.

“Well, we played cat and mouse for longer than I usually put up with, that’s true. Tonight, she finally came over for dinner. And yes, before you ask, I made pasta. It’s all I have in the skillset unless she wants boiled chicken and steamed brown rice.”

“Isn’t it early for her to already have left, then? Can’t help you with your blue balls, dude. You’re going to have to handle that on your own.”

“Ha, funny. Blue balls I can handle. Mind fucks, not so much,” I admitted.

“Okay, tell me what happened,” Jake sighed with the brotherly understanding I was hoping for.

“Dinner was great. Food was good, conversation was good. And then we were sitting on the couch, just talking. Well, and a little kissing, but nothing more. She said something, and I playfully tickled her, and in a split second, she totally went mental on me.” The whole scene replayed in my head while I explained the events to Jake. It didn’t make any more sense as I recalled the scene than when it actually took place.

My brother scoffed, probably thinking I was leaving out key information. “From being tickled? Something else must have happened.”

I rubbed my forehead where I typically held tension. If I didn’t work through this, I’d end up with a migraine. “I don’t know,” I bemoaned. “I honestly don’t know what happened. She shouted something like, ‘No, stop,’ and of course I did. Immediately. When a girl gets that crazy look in her eyes while you’re touching her, you know to back way the fuck up, you know?” I asked, looking for validation.

“No, on this one I can’t say that I know. But from what you’re describing it sounds like she got spooked,” Jacob offered thoughtfully. Then added, “Triggered maybe?”

“Triggered?” I’d heard the word before, but it usually sounded like psychobabble, and I instantly checked out. But because I really thought this girl could matter, I added a couple follow-ups. “By what? Being tickled?”

I could hear Jacob shifting around, maybe getting comfortable in a chair or something. “Listen. Here’s what I know. Since Vela was abducted, I see the strangest things set off panic like you wouldn’t believe. It can be a sound, a smell, or some combination of words no one else understands would be an issue but her. But then she flips out, and it can take hours to calm her down.”

I could physically feel the pain I heard in his voice as if it were my own. His new family had been through so much since they’d gotten his daughter back from her captor.

I didn’t really know what to say. “ Ooosh , dude. That sounds rough. But it also sounds like you were in my living room this evening. How often do you deal with something like that?”

“Just depends. Some weeks we go without it happening at all. Then there will be one particular day she’s like a giant exposed nerve and gets triggered by five different things.” He sighed heavily enough that I felt his emotion from my end of the call. “It’s exhausting. For everyone.”

“That poor kid,” I muttered but felt an ache from the information right in the center of my chest. Between our niece, Stella, and now my brother’s kid too, it pained me to hear about little ones suffering at the hands of adults.

Our oldest sister, Cecile, had married a monster. They created the world’s most adorable child, Stella, before she knew his true colors. For years, the asshole ex physically abused their daughter for his own kicks. The bastard cleverly hid what he was doing to her until she started acting out aggressively with her classmates.

Through Cecile’s amazing mothering and a handful of mental health professionals, it came to light that he’d been hurting his own daughter for most of her life. She didn’t know better to tell anyone and said she just thought that’s what parents did to their kids.

So fucked up.

Stella’s abuse was deeply disturbing for all of us. It made me vow to never bring a child into this messed-up world. If parents couldn’t be trusted to care for, love, and nurture the very humans they created, how on earth did you trust the rest of the world?

“You there, man?” Jacob asked quietly.

“Yeah, sorry. Just thinking a hundred different things. I like the girl, but I’m not sure I want to get involved if she’s got head problems. Don’t know if I have the capacity to deal with all that, you know?”

“Law, of course you do. Look how much you love Stella. Think how unfair it would be if Stella or Vela got labeled not worthy of the effort it might take to love them. Especially since they were victims. They didn’t ask for their lives to be forever changed, did they?” His comments were valid but probably not what I wanted to hear at the moment. I was already feeling guilty about my selfish thoughts without him adding that icing to the cake.

And it still didn’t automatically mean I was the man for the job. If I didn’t want to invest more time and energy into seeing if there was really something between me and Shepperd, now would be the perfect time to pull out.

“Hey, I gotta go,” Jake said, interrupting my browbeating. “I hope that helped. At least a little. All I can advise is to be patient. Talk with her. See if she can outline her triggers for you so you don’t unknowingly set her off again with an innocent comment or gesture.”

“Yeah, I hear you. Thanks, Jake. Thanks for picking up and all you shared about Vela. You guys are so strong and amazing. Not sure we all remind you of that enough.”

We hung up, and I finished loading the dishwasher. I had abandoned the task when our conversation took that serious turn because I wanted to give the topic my undivided attention.

Being alone with all these thoughts was the last thing I wanted or needed. It was too late to hit the gym, my favorite way to work through something. Plus, I was exhausted. After the kitchen was spotless, I headed to my bathroom for a hot shower. It wouldn’t kill me to crawl into bed before midnight once in a while, and it looked like that was my best option.

By the time I finished in the bathroom, I could barely walk the few yards to my bed. The steam and pounding water relaxed my muscles enough to release a lot of the tension I’d been holding, and the minute my head hit the pillow, I was out. I didn’t move a muscle through the entire night, and for once, I wasn’t exhausted when I got up the next morning.

I felt energized and ready to take on a new day. Good thing, too, because I had a packed schedule for the rest of the week. I’d made up my mind to put the Shepperd situation on the back burner. I’d leave the ball in her court, and if she wanted to reach out, I’d be happy to talk to her. Maybe even see her again.

But I wouldn’t pursue her. Like I told my brother, I didn’t have the energy to deal with a woman that came along with a full set of baggage. That’s why I typically kept my female interactions light and noncommittal. I was in the phase of my life where I needed to focus on my career and getting ahead. The personal-life stuff was extra—for when and if I had the time and inclination.

So why did I keep checking my phone throughout the day? Why was I thinking about that sexy blonde every free minute? Why did I have to repeatedly coach myself to set the phone down and walk away. Don’t text her, don’t call her, no matter how many well-intended excuses I came up with. They were all bullshit, and I knew it.

The girl was under my skin. There was no better way to describe it. It was unfamiliar territory, but I could recognize it for what it was. I was interested in her—in getting to know her better. Interested in spending more time being goofy and laughing. And I was most definitely interested in getting in her pants. But not if I needed to decipher a code to figure out what the hell she was dealing with.

Maybe Jake was right. We needed to have a conversation. I should give her the opportunity to explain what happened, what happened that saddled her with these unusual reactions in the first place. Was that some random reaction, or had she flipped out on a guy like that before? If she wasn’t willing to open up and try to explain things to me, I would know we had no future, and I could move on.

Solid plan. When and if she did reach out to me, those would be my conditions. That didn’t mean I’d necessarily lay them out for her in a bulleted PowerPoint presentation, but having them in mind gave me a sort of outline of how to handle her.

The rest of the week went by in a blur. Shepperd wasn’t at the gym at the usual time we both went, and I started to worry. What if something happened to her on her drive home? I knew she was too agitated to drive, but she wouldn’t hang out and calm down. Friday afternoon came and went, and I still hadn’t heard from her.

I had plans to hit a local pub for happy hour with two coworkers, and just as I parked in the lot downtown, my phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Hey there! TGIF!

The message was from Shepperd. I stared at the screen for a minute or two, trying to decide the best way to handle her. Were we going to pretend that episode at my house never happened? I couldn’t even lie to myself and say I didn’t want to see her again. Hell, she was filling every free moment in my mind. Maybe I just needed to sleep with her and put her in my rearview mirror. I’d get the curiosity out of my system and get some much-needed sexual tension released too.

Yeah, I liked the sound of that plan. So I texted her back before getting out of my car.

Hey yourself! How was your week?

I locked my car and set the alarm before dropping the key into my front pants pocket. I confirmed that I had my wallet and headed toward the bar’s front entrance. Parking was a bit challenging because the weekend was getting started, so the closest lot I found was a few blocks away. While I slowly walked to meet my buddies, I watched the bouncing ellipses on our text thread, waiting for her next message.

Glad it’s over, I’ll say that much. What are you doing tonight/this weekend? Want to get together?

Bingo! Just the message I was hoping for. Or at least judging by my body’s reaction to reading her text, it’s what I was hoping for. The dumb part of my plan however was that it didn’t extend past that point. I knew I wanted her to reach out to me, and now that she had, I was torn about how to respond. Truthfully, I knew I wanted to accept her invitation. That wasn’t what I was confused about. The uncontrollable excitement and happiness I felt was throwing me off my normally cool game. How was I already so into this girl?

If I admitted to the non-virtuous side of myself, it was likely infatuation. The thrill of the hunt maybe. Since I hadn’t conquered this particular prey as of yet, there was a level of challenge to it all. That had always been what led me astray when I had a perfectly fine woman in my life. Another one would catch my eye, and off I’d wander.

I wasn’t a sleazy guy who cheated on women. I simply never committed in the first place. I kept my options open knowing damn well I’d get bored and start looking for the next great thing.

It was an awful pattern and definitely the fatal flaw in my life’s plot. I’d probably lost potential quality partners because of my fear of committing to one woman. My brother insisted that I just hadn’t found the one yet. He assured me that when I did, the thrill of the hunt would evaporate.

Meeting some work buddies for a couple atm. Tomorrow?

The response bubble popped up and throbbed for a few seconds and then disappeared. I was inside the bar ordering my first round when I felt my phone vibrate against my thigh. Once I told the friendly guy behind the very busy bar what I wanted, I pulled my phone out to check her reply.

Sounds good. Just text or call, and we’ll set something up. Have fun tonight. XO

I’d like to say that was the last I thought of the woman for the rest of the night. I’d like to say the curvy redhead at the end of the bar didn’t give me her number along with a very detailed description of how she’d like to spend the evening. But both would be untrue.

I could’ve worked out the week’s frustrations between the sheets with that gorgeous siren, but instead, I drove home alone after a couple of hours. While the redhead was tempting, I couldn’t shake thoughts of a specific blond bombshell.

I stared at my phone when I crawled beneath the cool sheets debating if it was too late to send a message.

Just one couldn’t hurt, right? If she was already sleeping, she’d likely have the thing on do not disturb and would wake to my message and know I was thinking about her all night. If I were lucky and she was still awake, I could just say good night and be done with it.

But instead, I wrote three different messages and deleted them before settling on something that was simple and heartfelt.

Sleep well, gorgeous girl. I hope you dream of me.

Quickly I stabbed the Send button before I changed my mind again. I was putting way more thought into a damn text than necessary. I reread the message twice while no indication came through that she even saw it. So, with a heavy sigh, I tossed my phone onto the bed and turned on my side to get more comfortable.

Lying down gave my body permission to relax a bit, and the exhaustion of a trying week crept in. Just as I was drifting off, my phone’s screen lit up the room with a soft glow. Like a teenager, I scrambled to find the device within the covers and stared at the screen until my eyes adjusted enough to read her reply.

Thank you. You too. But of me, of course. I hope you had a good time tonight with your friends.

I could have left the conversation end there. It was a perfectly natural place to end things and get the sleep my body was begging for. But now an excitement swirled in the pit of my stomach, and then I actually scoffed into the dark room. Why the hell was I acting the way I was? Over a text message. And what was it about this girl that had my interest so peaked? None of it made sense, and the longer I lay there and tried to figure it out, the more wired I became.

Fuck it. I’d text her one more time and then sleep.

Yeah, it wasn’t bad. Kind of boring, though, so I left pretty early.

Oh, I’m sorry.

No, no need to be. I think I’m just tired. Normally I have a blast with the crew, but something was off tonight.

What do you mean?

I’m not sure. Two of the five of us are married, and one is in a serious relationship. In fact, he spent the whole night talking about his girlfriend and was scrolling IG for proposal ideas.

How funny. I can’t picture it. Sounds like you all are at different stages of life.

Definitely. I’ll let you sleep, just wanted to say good night.

You’re sweet. Night. XO

XO

Finally, with a dopey smile on my face, I fell asleep to thoughts of Ms. Shepperd Farsay. Even though we didn’t set a solid plan for tomorrow, I was already looking forward to seeing her. Hopefully, after a good night’s sleep, I’d be able to make more sense of these unfamiliar feelings I was having about the girl.