“Can I call you tomorrow?”

She laughs. “You better.”

“Good night, Sky,” I say.

“’Night, Matt.”

I disconnect the call and put my phone in my pocket. No one is up when I get home. I’m not even sure if Paul is home. I go into my bedroom and get ready for bed. Just as I slide between the sheets, my phone rings. I see that it’s her number.

“Sky?”

“Yeah,” she admits.

“You okay?”

“I just wanted to tell you good night,” she says quietly.

“I think you already did that.” But inside, my heart is beating like a tattoo gun.

“Oh,” she says quietly. She laughs. “Sorry.”

“You tired?” I ask.

“Not at all.”

So we talk late into the night. We talk until my eyes are droopy, and I still don’t want to hang up the phone.

Skylar

I need toothpicks to hold my eyelids open today. Matt and I talked until really late last night, but every time I got ready to hang up the phone, he would ask me something else. It was always something thought provoking and deep. And he answered my questions, as well.

I now know that he likes any kind of ice cream with chocolate chunks in it. He loves nuts. And he has this crazy passion for life that I didn’t know even existed. His family is important to him, and mine is, too. He asked me out on a date for Friday night, but I put him off because I don’t know yet where Seth will be on Friday.

But I do want to go out with him. I want to spend some time alone with him with no kids in the other room. I want to kiss him and see if this passion is all in my head.

It’s almost lunchtime, and I have successfully avoided Phillip the whole morning. He approached me once, but I turned my back on him, and he went the other direction. I have been working really hard on a case today, getting my paperwork ready. I stop and press the heels of my hands into my eyes. I really shouldn’t have stayed up so late last night.

The buzzer on my phone goes off. “Yes,” I call.

“Sky,” the receptionist says quietly. I pick up the handset.

“Yes,” I say again. “What’s up?”

“There’s a really hunky guy standing in front of me, and he’s asking for you,” she whispers into the phone.

What hunky guy would be asking about me? “What does he look like?”

“He’s about six two,” she starts.

“Six three,” I hear someone say.

“Oh, six three,” she says. “He’s a big one.” She giggles.

My heart jumps. “What color is his hair?”

“Blond. And long.”

It’s Matt. Oh shit. It’s Matt.

“I’ll be right there,” I say. But my heart is thumping like crazy. What is Matt doing here? I hunt around under my desk for my shoes and slide them on. Then I straighten my skirt and run a hand down my hair to smooth it. A minute ago, I had it held up with a pencil.

It’s just Matt, I tell myself. It’s Matt.

“Do you want me to send him back?” the receptionist asks. She laughs again. “Or I can just keep him?”

Definitely not. He’s mine. “I’ll be right there,” I repeat. I look down at my business suit. I hope I look all right. I guess it’s too late now to worry about it.

I walk into the reception area and find Matt leaning against the glass doorway. He turns to face me and smiles. “Hi,” he says quietly.

I walk toward him, my legs shaky. “What are you doing here?” I ask, but I’m grinning, too. I stop in front of him, one move short of leaning into him for a hug. The receptionist is watching really closely.

“I came to see if you want to go to lunch.” He shrugs. He’s wearing black jeans and lace-up boots. A black T-shirt is stretched across his broad chest, and it’s tucked neatly into his jeans. I can see his tattoos. A piece of hair has fallen from his ponytail, and I want to reach up and tuck it behind his ear.

“How did you find out where I work?” I ask. I motion for him to follow me. Thank you, I mouth at the receptionist, and she winks at me and gives me a thumbs-up. I shake my head, and Matt walks quietly behind me.

“I texted Seth,” he says.

“Traitor,” I say, but inside, I’m thrilled.

“Did I come at a bad time?” he asks. He looks down at his wrist, even though there’s no watch on it. “I can come back later.”

“No, no.” I don’t want him to leave. Ever. I lean against the edge of my desk. “I’m glad you’re here.”

His voice is deep and soft when he responds. “I’ve been thinking about you all morning.” He shrugs, looking a little sheepish. “So I figured I’d drop by. I totally understand if you’re too busy, though.” He looks into my eyes. “I might cry if you send me away, but I’ll go.”

I’m not going to send him away. Not a chance. “I don’t want you to go,” I say.

He grins. “Good.” He looks around my office. “Do you have time for lunch?”

“Oh!” I cry. “I thought you were just going to stand there and let me look at you. You actually want to go somewhere.”

He laughs. “Yeah. I told you. I’m going to make you fall in love with me. Lunch is step one.”

“What’s step two?” I ask impulsively.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t work.”