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“I thought showing where and how you live is part of what you do.”

She waves her hand back and forth. “It is, and it isn’t. Mostly, you give the illusion of accessibility because social media can become too much. You can overshare, and I don’t ever want to do that. I want to keep some things separate.”

“That makes sense. I don’t know much about what you do.”

But you know how lonely she feels sometimes because everyone’s watching her relationship ups and downs. You know how much her mother gives her the blues. You also know every inch of her body. You’ve kissed and sucked all of it.

She sighs. “As a vlogger, I take people on a journey. I tell them a story through what I’m experiencing and using the senses, especially visually. That creates an organic connection when you are genuine. While I want them to experience things with me, I want to keep some things to myself. People get confused and think they deserve full access to your life and your space. I plan to build my own brand and expand my reach and access. I don’t want any blurred lines between Lux and Bougie Girl. Sometimes, people become obsessed. That is also why I will need an excellent security system all around the area.”

Her words make me stop writing my notes. “Is someone bothering you?”

She blinks a few times, then her lips curve. “No, just in case. I’m Cam’s sister, and people have tried to get close to get to him. I also have followers on social media. You never know.”

“You can never be too careful.” I seriously believe this. I’m constantly talking to Ay about the dark places on the internet and how you really don’t know people like that.

“When do you think you can have this project complete? Six weeks?” she asks.

It’s my turn to laugh. “I see you’ve been watching the twins on TV. It’s probably going to take longer than that. We want this done right and following all codes.”

“HGTV makes it seem so easy,” she says.

There’s a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, but it’s true. TV shows have managed to warp people’s expectations and make it hard on us contractors. Everyone wants to use high-end materials, shiplap, and considers themselves experts after watching a few shows. “I don’t have that large of a crew, a time jump machine, or the magic of editing.”

She snaps her fingers once. “Damn. I was hoping you would be like a genie who can nod, and boom, my wishes come true.”

“I can grant some insta-wishes. This one is not one of them. This is more of a long-term wish.”

She toys with her fingers against her top. “What kind of insta-wishes do you grant?”

Then her eyes widen, and I could swear that, like me, she’s reliving the memories of our Noche Buena, alone in an empty house like we are now. And without noticing, I’m a step closer to her.

Her phone goes off, and we both jump back. My skin is practically boiling.

Always her fucking phone.

She picks it up and turns away.

I take a breath. This is not good. I need to rein in the flirting.

“Oh. I’ll be right there.” She turns back to me. “I’m sorry, but I’m helping Chase and Lauren with the kids while they’re out of town for the weekend. That was Felix’s school. He has a stomachache.”

“Do you need help?”

She shakes her head. “It’s probably a bug or something.”

“Do you mind if I stay to take some measurements?”

“So, you’ll take the job?” Her voice is soft, but I can’t sense anything from it.

I shrug like the gap in my chest is not widening with each moment that passes. “You need a good contractor to renovate your house. I’m the best. Is that going to be a problem for you?”

Seconds tick by. She swallows and reaches into her bag, handing me the key. “Not at all. Just lock up. Text me when you’re done, and I can set the alarm.”

“Will do. I’ll call you once I have a proposal. We’ll meet and go from there.”

She steps toward me, pauses, and then climbs on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. In that second, I’m surrounded by that sweet, expensive scent clinging to her skin— the one that lives in my psyche and sometimes won’t let me sleep.

“Thank you for meeting me, Oliver. See you later.”