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“I spoke to Paul.”

“Okay.”

“They found the source of the fire. It was a faulty wire in the wall socket, just as they suspected.”

“Damn,” I exhale sharply.

“It can be rebuilt. You’ll need a new vibrator, though.”

My stomach drops. An uncontrollable heat spreads through my body as I stare at Lucas for what feels like a hundred lifetimes. “Excuse me?” I whisper, my voice pretty much gone. My throat burns as I remember precisely where I left my toy on the day of the fire.

“It was charging, connected to said faulty socket,” Lucas says.

“I need the floor to open up and swallow me whole right now,” I say, hiding my face in my hands. “This can’t get any more embarrassing.”

Lucas laughs. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s a toy intended to provide pleasure, and lots of women have them. Plenty of men, too. There’s no shame in keeping yourself sexually healthy and happy.”

“You’re my boss. This shouldn’t even be a conversation between us.”

“In this house, I’m not your boss. I’m Lucas, your neighbor. And I’m hoping your friend, too,” he calmly replies. “We need to make a clear distinction about that.”

“Fair enough. So while we’re on the clock, you’re my boss.”

“Yes.”

“Off the clock, we can talk about anything, including my vibrator that caused my cabin to burn down,” I scoff, still stewing in my own shame.

Lucas leans forward, a devilish smile on his lips. “I just have one question, then we can put this behind us.”

“Oh, boy,” I exhale sharply. “Fine, let’s get this over with.”

“What do you think about?”

I stare at him, confused. My mind draws a complete blank. “What do I think about…what?”

“When you get yourself off. What do you think about?” His voice drops, causing my heart to beat faster and my temperature to spike in record speed.

I have two choices here. I’m at a threshold, and I decide where this goes. Either I entertain this conversation and inadvertently get carried away, or I establish a clear boundary and don’t let the lines blur between us even more.

“You,” I blurt out.

“Me?” Lucas inches closer.

“Yes.” My blue summer dress feels too warm all of a sudden, as if the fabric is eager to suffocate me somehow.

“How long has this been going on?”

“You mean, how long have I been fantasizing about you?”

“Obviously.”

“Is it a problem?”

He shakes his head and slides off the couch, kneeling in front of me. “No. I’m just trying to figure out a timeline. Over the past year while you’ve been living next door and working in my station, we’ve barely said ten words to each other.”

“I know. I’m not sure how long it’s been happening,” I reply quietly, trembling before him. “I just… I can’t really help it.”

“You never even came over to ask for help around the cabin or a couple of eggs.”