Page 32

“Outside, what?”

“Your house. Come to the window.”

I lean over my sofa and pull the curtain back to look down at the street. Her head is tilted up, her eyes scanning the row of windows for my face. I tap on the glass, and she waves.

I am not keen on unannounced visitors. And the lower level of the house is still a construction site. But the instant I see her, I know I was wrong. Her smile is a cure for everything. And right now, I’m happier to see her than I think I’ve been to see anyone in my whole life.

“One second.”I text her and take a quick inventory of my place. It looks the way it always does, which is barely lived in. There’s a loud rumble of thunder, and I stop dawdling, sniff my armpits, and press the button that unlocks the front door. I walk out onto the landing and am halfway down the stairs just as the door signals that it’s open.

When I get to the bottom, Jules is standing in my foyer as fresh as a daisy and prettier than anyone has a right to be on a gloomy Saturday night.

She’s wearing a T-shirt that reads “Not Your Princess” gathered and tied in a knot at her midriff. And any irony created by her silver leggings and her sparkly pink trainers is quashed by the fire in her eyes.

“What’re you doing here?” I call as I descend the narrow staircase.

“I made some candles. With neroli oil.” She holds up a small brown bag. I take it from her.

“Wow, for me?”

She nods. “A housewarming gift.”

I’m touched by her thoughtfulness and open the bag to have a peek at the two glass jars inside. “Thank you. As you can see, this level isn’t ready for visitors, but they’ll do great upstairs.”

“Is that why you haven’t asked me over?” she asks but doesn’t quite meet my eyes before she turns to survey the first floor of my house.

“Yeah, but you’re welcome any time. Seriously.”

Her smile is sheepish when she looks at me again. “Thank you. I’d love to see it during the day. Those stained-glass windows must be glorious.”

I’m thrilled she noticed. “They really are. Come by any time, and I’ll show you around. Maybe even get your opinion.”

“I’d love that. Thank you.” She looks past me and up the stairs. “I didn’t interrupt anything?”

Just my father pulling the floor out from beneath me.But I don’t want to ruin my budding good mood by bringing that up, so I shake my head. “I was just flipping through my mail and texting my sister when you got here. Do you want to come up? It’s only got barebones furniture and the curtains you helped me pick out.”

She nods. “I’d love that. But I can’t stay long. Jodi called in her favor, and I’m covering for her tonight. I have to be behind the bar in less than thirty minutes.”

“Plenty of time.” I hold my hand out to her. There’s a beat of hesitation before she takes it. But when our palms connect, my mind clears of everything but how good and natural it feels to touch her. I’ve kept my hands to myself for the whole month, but only because I don’t trust myself to stop with just a touch. But it gets harder to resist every time I see her. I can’t wait to know what the rest of her feels like. Tastes like. I wonder what she’d do if I asked her to spread her legs for me.

“How was your day?” she asks, and I flush at the turn my thoughts just took and refocus on the present.

“Long, lots of issues with my contractor and a lot of paperwork to sign for work. But things are looking up now.”

She laces our fingers together and tugs me to a stop. She’s looking at the floor, and her shoulders are visibly tense.

I put my finger under her chin and tip her head up. “What’s wrong?”

“Omar…” Her eyes are clouded by whatever is causing the furrow between her raven brows. “I didn’t come over to bring you candles. I mean, I made them for you. But that’s not why I came. This is an ambush.”

“It is?” I frown. She nods but cringes as if she’s embarrassed. “And what were you hoping to accomplish with the nicest ambush in human history?”

She bites her lip and fiddles with our intertwined fingers. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t throwing wild orgies in here.”

A laugh bursts from my gut, and I throw my head back.

“Did you get to know me and not like me as much as you thought?” she asks in a quiet voice.

My humor fizzles instantly. “Why would you think that?”