nothing to worry about.”
“That is good news,” I say, caught off guard by a sudden wave of wistfulness. “I missed you, you know.”
Long and serrated breath from Damon.
“I missed you.”
There’s a pause, during which I try to resist the knowledge that he’s right here in the building with me, just a couple of doors down. But it seems prudent to slow down this runaway train. No matter how much I don’t want to.
“So how will we handle this, Damon? Shall I Google you? Find out everything, including your pet hamster’s name when you were in primary school?”
“Let’s do it the old-fashioned way. Ask each other questions. Listen to the answers. Learn about each other.”
Unfortunately, the number one question that needs answering has to do with when I’ll see him again.
“Yes, well, the main thing you need to know about me is that I eat dinner every single night,” I say. “And I get hangry when I’m not fed.”
I wait, breath held.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at eight. Sharp. Wear your hair down.”
“Cheeky bastard.”
8
Damon
“What on earth do you think you’re doing?”
The blast of Carly’s irritated voice from her intercom the following night makes me laugh as I stand outside on her stoop.
“Feeding you as promised,” I say, carefully balancing my grocery bags. I’m pleased to confirm that—as I’d expected—her building seems solid and safe. Inside, a security guard watches me with some amusement from his post behind a marble desk. I’m not sure why my dumb ass seems to suddenly think I’m personally responsible for this woman’s well-being, but there’s no shaking the feelings of protectiveness and satisfaction. “I can’t feed you by eight if I don’t get started early. Are you going to let me up?”
“You’re forty-five minutes early,” she says, her tone now suggesting that she’s going to use her sharpest chef’s knife to divest me of my balls the second I set foot in her apartment. “And I was promised a fancy restaurant.”
“No, you weren’t. If anything, I promised you a delicious meal. Which I will provide. But I want privacy and your undivided attention.”
“That’s all well and good, but I’ve just got out of the shower. I haven’t done hair or makeup. I look like the hag from all the Grimm brothers’ fairytales.”
“Doubtful. Buzz me in. I’m not here to see how good you are with hair and makeup. I want to see you in your natural state in your natural habitat.”
“Be careful what you wish for, you foolish man,” she mutters darkly as the door unlocks.
I emerge from the elevator a couple minutes later to find her waiting for me down at the end of a long and elegant hallway, her you’re dead glower firmly in place as I approach. She’s wearing a tank top and running shorts, a combo that wins my wholehearted approval because it shows the long stretch of her shapely legs and the intriguing straps of a pink bra across her pale shoulders. On her head? A white towel wrapped tight. And her flashing light-colored eyes are now, finally, brightly lit enough for me to detect their color.
“Blue,” I say softly, mesmerized as I stare down at her fresh face, which features a sun-kissed sprinkling across her nose. “With freckles.”
“Well done,” she says, a smile reluctantly trying to break through. “You’ve demonstrated your proficiency with primary colors and solved a pressing mystery.”
“Everything about you is a pressing mystery, princess. But you don’t listen very well, do you? What’d I tell you about your hair?”
“You’re far too demanding and far too interested in my hair. I’m tempted to shave it all off just to smite you. Nip your fetish in the bud.”
I shrug easily. “Everything about you is a fetish. Tick-tock.”
She rolls her eyes. Blushes furiously. And removes the towel to reveal wet spirals of fiery hair that tumble across her shoulders and frame her head in a glorious halo.
“Anything else before I let you in? Any other ridiculous demands?” she asks.
“Yeah. Start getting your head around the fact that you’re gorgeous. Just like that. Anything else is putting a cherry on top of a flawless diamond.”
Her breath hitches. “Are you trying to turn my head?”
“Hate to tell you, but we’ve already given each other whiplash. At this point, we don’t need to impress each other. We need to get to know each other.”
If I’ve told a bigger lie in the last ten years, I can’t think of it. Not the part about getting to know each other. That’s a thousand percent true. So