Page 66 of Right Where I Want You

If I wasn’t moving forward, though, was I goingbackward?

15

Georgina

Bruno did not respect hangovers.Or late nights chasing Turkish dramas and delights with wine, which was what Luciano and I had done until he’d fallen asleep on my couch aroundone.

Schlepping down the block with Bruno’s leash in hand, I thanked the powers that be for oversized sunglasses to block harsh sunlight and for hats to hide unkempt hair.Sebastian’shat, to be exact. I’d meant to return it to him after the game, I really had, but he hadn’t asked for it, and it smelled so good—like him. And me.Us, if such a thing were to everexist.

Bruno perked up and took off, pulling me after him, but this time, it wasn’t a squirrel that’d caught his attention, nor the UPS truck, or even the neighbor’s ugly-cute French bulldog that drove Bruno wild. It was a man tall enough to high-five the changing leaves and sexy enough to stop traffic with tousled dark hair and muscles that stretched his charcoal-colored sweater—and to top it all off, he sported not only a wide, devastating smile but two Dunkin’ Donutscoffees.

“Finally,” Sebastian called as he headed in my direction. “I’ve been wandering the street for fifteen minutes. You didn’t pick up yourphone.”

No no no. He had to be amirage.

I wasbralessunder mysweatshirt.

With pimple cream on mychin.

And sleep crusting the corners of myeyes.

And him? His smooth-shaven jaw looked sharp enough to cut glass, and his easy, confident energy justified his swagger. If he was a mirage, he was a pretty attractiveone.

Bruno wagged his tail as he ran over to Sebastian. Was it too late to pretend I hadn’t seen him? Was I clever enough to convince him I was not, in fact, Georgina but her doppelgänger? Could I escape into a manhole like a comic bookvillain?

“I have a mocha latte with your name on it,” Sebastian said when my gaping became uncomfortable. “Literally.”

“What are you doing here?” Iasked.

He thrust the drink at me. “It’ll getcold.”

There wasn’t much sadder in this world than cold coffee, so I took the latte, which had either been very hot, or had been kept toasty by Sebastian’s sizeable hand. “Um, thanks,” I said, looking up at him from behind my sunglasses. “But why are youhere?”

“What do you mean? I told you at the office I was coming over to help walk the brute . . .” He paused, glancing over my head. No,atmy head. More specifically, at myhat.

Oh,no.

I was wearing his baseball cap like a lovesick schoolgirl. By the way his mouth slid into a knowing smirk, he obviously took pleasure in busting me, but at least he had the decency not to mentionit.

“But how do you know where I live?” Iasked.

“Pineapple.” He nodded behind him. “It’s not a very long street, so I took my chances. I told you I was coming, remember? Formuscle?”

I wrinkled my nose. “I had no idea you wereserious.”

“I was. I am.” He glanced at my sweatpants. “I assumed you’d sleep in, which is why I came ateleven.”

“I’ll have you know I was up at six thismorning.”

“To take Brunoout?”

That, and to see Luciano off to work. “Yes,but—”

“Did you go back to sleepafterward?”

I scowled. Since when did he know my address, habits, and the exact time to catch me at my worst? “You live thirty minutes from here. You’re a bridge and a subway stop change away. We’re not even in the same borough. There’s no way you came all the way here to walkBruno.”

He squinted down the block. Sunglasses stretched the neckline of his sweater. I sipped my mocha. It was just the right temperature, damn him—not scalding, not lukewarm. Some people, like Sebastian, led that easy life. I could only imagine I’d surprise someone with coffee the same day they’d sworn offcaffeine.