Page 191 of The Friends and Rivals Collection

I haven’t seen Mia in almost a month, since the last time she was in town staying with Max. I didn’t realize she’d be back a full week before her other brother Chase’s wedding, and am I ever glad to see her again.

She makes all parts of me quite happy indeed.

By happy, I mean hard as a rock.

Okay, fine. It’s not like I’m operating at full power this second. I’m thirty-three, not fifteen. I have plenty of self-control in the “when and where to pitch a tent” arena. All I’m saying is this woman gets me going, and I feel that zip down my body when I see her.

She’s on the phone, her eyebrows pinched, her expression harried. She drags her hand through her caramel-blond hair. As I walk closer, I hear her say, “I understand. Yes, I understand. Things happen.”

And that’s the sound of someone being disappointed.

Which is a terrible thing for this sexy-as-a-fiery-sunset woman to experience.

When she stops and ends her call, she spots me. She tilts her head, her eyes piercing, her brow furrowed, and her dimples killing me with cuteness. Her eyes roam from me to Zeus, and then she points at my boy. “I don’t know if anyone has told you this . . .”

I raise my eyebrows. “Tell me. What could it possibly be?”

Her eyes drift to the ground then back up. In a deadpan tone, she says, “But your shoelaces don’t match.”

I glance down at the red lace in my right hiking boot and the orange one in the left. “True that. The other red one got tangled on a tree trunk on the Hudson River Trail, and I had to sacrifice it to the shoelace gods.”

“I’m sure they were delighted to receive such a fine offering,” Mia says, and I love that even though I haven’t seen her in a while, she rolls right into an easy conversation.

No need for greetings, embraces, or how the hell are yous .

Not that I’d object to her wrapping her arms around me and giving me a friendly hug.

Or a long, lingering hug for that matter.

She’s looking at me expectantly, and I snap back to our playful footwear banter. “They were indeed grateful that the shoelace came home to rest.”

“Also,” she says, stepping closer. “Did you know there’s a cat in your hat? Well, on your back, actually.”

“There is?” I crane my neck to peer over my shoulder. “You’re right. How did he get there?”

She parks her hands on her hips. “You’re in big trouble.”

“I’ve been bad, have I?”

She pushes my shoulder then wags her finger at me. “How did you keep this from me?”

I quirk an eyebrow. “The fact that there’s an awesome new Italian place down the street? It opened last month, and I planned to tell you.”

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “I’ve known you for months and you didn’t tell me you had a cat. Friends don’t hide pets from friends.”

She’s not in town that often. She hasn’t ever been to my apartment. And I don’t take Zeus upstairs to Max’s. But I’m not going to state the obvious. I’m going to have a little fun with her. Flirt with her. Because . . . that’s what we do.

“There’s a reason for that.”

Her eyes go wide, and she taps her toe, waiting. I drag a hand through my hair. Evie says my light brown hair is floppy, and she tells me this is a good thing. The ladies love floppy hair, she says. She’s been right so far. My hair’s been a big hit with the ladies, and other parts have, too.

“It’s a good reason,” I add.

“I’m waiting, Patrick. This really isn’t the type of intel you should hold back.”

I heave a sigh as if I’m going to make a huge admission, then I park a hand on her shoulder.

Because, well, I’m a sneaky bastard and I’ll look for any opening to touch her.

“Look, I’m going to be blunt. If I told you I had a hiking cat who rides shotgun in a backpack and can purr like he’s a jazz superstar, you’d have had no choice but to fall in love with me. ” I flash her a grin.

When Mia laughs, she tips her head back and her wavy hair flutters in the breeze.

She has a simple beauty about her. She’s fresh-faced, and her hair isn’t overly styled—it looks tousled and towel-dried, and I can’t deny how much that wash-and-wear, low-maintenance vibe turns me on.

Plus, she has the most fantastic dimples, which make her look innocent even though I suspect she has a wickedly naughty side.

And then there are those eyes—hazel, with flecks of green.

Sometimes they read as a soft, warm brown, sometimes like a green sea under the sun.

Don’t even get me started on her body—toned and athletic, exactly what I like. But it’s her dry sense of humor that nails me every time.

“How do you know I wouldn’t have fallen in love with the cat instead?” She reaches up, standing on tiptoe since I’m nearly a foot taller than she is, and runs her hand down Zeus’s head. Lady-killer that he is, Zeus lifts his chin and purrs suggestively as Mia scratches him.

And now we’re at steel level.

Because with her this close, I can’t help but enjoy the eyeful of soft, sweet curves at the line of her tank top. God, I love summer and the clothes women wear when the days turn warmer.

“Nah, we’re a package deal,” I say. “And look, don’t be ashamed. You can just admit you’re crazy for me now.”

Mia steps back, rolls her eyes, and pushes her pink messenger bag higher on her shoulder.

I gesture to the lobby so we can head inside.

Her beauty products company is based in San Francisco, but she’s been spending more and more time in New York.

When she’s in town, she usually crashes at Max’s apartment, five floors up from mine.

I first met Max when I moved into this building a year and a half ago, and we became fast friends.

But I didn’t meet Mia until she started travelling to New York regularly for business several months ago.

She holds up her hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. He’s pretty much sealed the deal for me.” Her eyelids flutter, and she places her hand on her heart, making a loud thumping sound. “I’m over the moon.”

“Exactly. That’s why I didn’t just whip out my cat and show him to you the first night we met. Or the second. Zeus is a complete and absolute chick-magnet, and since I respect you, I couldn’t willy-nilly throw down this kind of secret weapon and leave you no choice.”

“Zeus is kind of a big, bold name. Is that overcompensation for something?” Her eyes drift down. Thank fuck I’m not sporting wood anymore.

I scoff. “Overcompensation for his sheer and utter awesomeness.”

“And what makes him so awesome? Besides the fact that he rides sidecar with you, it seems.”

We reach the elevator banks, and I stab the up button. “You can play it cool, but I’m sure you’ve heard of Zeus The Hiking Tomcat. He has more than a million followers on Instagram.”

She blinks, and the sarcasm games cease. “Seriously?”

As we wait, I snag my phone and open The Hiking Tomcat’s feed, showing her some recent pictures: a shot of the furry fellow wandering along a curved mountain trail, a picture of him chilling in the stern of a canoe as I paddle across a lake, an image of him scurrying on a felled tree trunk over a mountain stream.

Then, my favorite—Zeus in the meadow, his eyes closed, his face raised to the sun, enjoying some rays at the top of a four-mile hike up a mountain when there was nothing but blue skies forever.

“Wow. I can’t believe he actually hikes,” she says.

“I can take you along, if you want to see the proof with your own eyes.”

She laughs and shakes her head, patting her bag. “I just arrived last night. I have meetings all afternoon, terms with suppliers to review, and marketing campaigns to peruse. Plus, dinner tomorrow night with Josie and Chase, and Max and Henley. I have way too much work to take a break for a hike.”

The elevator arrives. We step inside and the doors whoosh shut.

“That’s insane. There’s always time for a hike.”

She sighs heavily, so hard it’s like air leaks out of her.

“I feel like I don’t even have time to breathe, let alone go to the gym, let alone go on a trip.

The last time I was in town, I barely made it to the Friday afternoon laser tag game with my friend Dylan.

And I just found out one of our biggest suppliers has pulled out of a deal for this new face wash we’ve been working on,” she says, meeting my gaze.

“And I need to figure out a replacement.”

Mia started her own company a few years ago, making organic and cruelty-free beauty products and makeup.

It’s a true passion of hers, and she works doggedly at building up Pure Beauty.

But even when you love what you do, it can exact a toll.

I see a flash of weariness in her eyes, tiredness, and I sense how much this woman needs a break.

“That’s what I was doing before I saw you. Talking to the supplier,” she explains.

Ah, so I was right. Disappointed. “Sorry, Mia. That sucks.”

“I know. I’m trying so hard, and I just feel like I’m being pulled in all these directions.”

“Maybe you do need to get away.”

“I can’t.”

“You’ll think better after a few hours unplugged.

Be in a better mood for the wedding next week.

” Look, I’m not simply trying to snag some extra time with the woman.

I can tell from the tightness in her shoulders, the heaviness of her sigh, and, oh yeah, her motherfucking words that Mia needs a break, even a short one.

“Is that so?”

“Mia, you need to recharge. Look, I’m sure you can fill all twenty-five hours in your day with work, but people need to step back from the screens, too.”

“Except there are only twenty-four hours in a day, right?”

The elevator slows at my floor. When the door opens, I stand in it to keep talking to her. “Not for people like you, who have somehow annexed an extra hour to squeeze in even more productivity. So take a break for a couple of hours and let yourself unwind. Your mind will be fresher.”

She nibbles on the corner of her lips. “You’re trying to get me to play hooky.”