“You’re moving in with David?” Tara asks, securing the box with packaging tape. “Five-eleven, dark hair, blue eyes, chiseled jaw, sexy biceps...” She puts the tape down on top of the sealed box and stares at me with a dreamy expression. “We’re talking about the same David you dated for all of two seconds earlier this summer? The one you continue to flirt with as if you didn’t dump him?”

I shrug one shoulder. “Yeah, it’s harmless flirting. I’m pretty sure he does it with everyone. He’s tight with Aria, and she’s in love with Nate.”

“Right, except you aren’t in love with anyone and are totally available.”

“You think living with him will prove to be a problem?” It can’t. I have no other options.

“I’m not sure. Let’s find out.” She pats the bed next to her. “Come lie down. I want to paint a mental picture for you.”

Tara and her mental pictures. She used to do this to me all the time back when we shared a dorm in college. I know she won’t let up until I do it, so I lie down on the bed.

“Okay, close your eyes.”

They’re already closed, but that’s what she says all the time, so I let her continue.

“You come home from a long day at the office. You had to stay late doing some important editor things you do.”

I smirk because she’s never been to the newspaper and has no idea what goes into getting issues ready for print.

“You start for the couch when you hear the shower turn on. Thoughts of David naked under the steady stream of hot water infiltrate your mind, and you step toward the bathroom. He starts humming to some music that’s stuck in his head, and the water sloshes against the wall of the shower, letting you know he’s soaping up his tight chest, his abs, his—”

“Okay, stop!” I jerk upright, the mental image in my head so real I can smell the soap on David’s wet, bare skin. My chest heaves. “I can’t do this.”

Tara laughs. “Except you have to. Like you said, you have no other options.”

I grab the pillow behind me and toss it at her head. “Why did you do that to me? Now every time I look at him, I’m going to picture him in that shower.”

“Were his man parts all sudsy?” she asks with a laugh.

“You are officially the worst best friend ever.”

“No, I’m not. I’m just being realistic. If you go into this thinking things will be easy, you’re going to be in for a rude awakening. You’ll be blindsided and won’t know what to do about it. You have to be careful. Don’t go doing anything to make this harder on you or him.”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe knowing there’s the potential to throw myself at David will keep me from doing just that. It might stop me from making a huge mistake that could cost me my friend and my roommate.

Tara puts her hand on top of mine. “If you find yourself getting into any trouble, call me. I’m only five minutes from his apartment complex. I can rush right over and be a buffer between you and your raging hormones.”

“I’m probably being crazy, right?” I ask, pulling my legs up and resting my head on my knees. “I mean, he could have a girlfriend for all I know. He’s a sweetheart and a major flirt.” The two don’t normally go together, but for him they seem to naturally complement each other.

“Um, I hate to break it to you, Em, but you’re a sweetheart and a major flirt, too.” She pats my hand. “Just keep your phone handy for when you need me to run interference.”

God, I hope I’m not making a huge mistake. Our breakup was almost too easy, though. He said he understood I was young and not looking to be tied down. He never treated me any differently. All that changed was we stopped sleeping together and groping each other at work when no one was looking.

“Did you tell Sharonda you found another place?” Tara asks.

“Yeah, I called her on my lunch break. She screamed into the phone she was so happy. I should say relieved. She felt awful for asking me to leave.”

“You wouldn’t want to live here with her and Devonte anyway. You’d have to listen to them going at it every night. You know how honeymooners are. I’m all for engaging in the activity, but I don’t want to hear others engaging in it.” She smiles and stands up. “Now, let’s finish getting you packed up.”

* * *

“Richards, nice work. Your department is producing some topnotch pieces, and your staff is crediting you. Thanks for making me look good for taking a chance on you,” Mr. Monohan says on Wednesday afternoon.

“They flatter me, Mr. M. They’re all great writers.” Mr. Monohan told all the editors to call him “Terry,” but other than Aria—who called him “Mr. Terry” for two months—everyone still calls him “Mr. Monohan,” or “Mr. M.,” as I prefer.

“Great editors inspire great writers.” He points an accusatory finger at me and smiles.

“Thank you.”

“Sucking up to the boss again?” David asks, stepping into my cubicle after Mr. Monohan goes back to his office.

“Nope. Apparently my staff is, though.” My eyes scan David’s body. He’s wearing charcoal pants and a baby-blue button-down shirt that makes his eyes look even bluer.

“You all set to move in today?”

“Yeah, all packed up. My car is full of boxes.”

“I left your key at my place—our place,” he says.

I let out a nervous giggle. “That sounds a little strange, doesn’t it?” Like we’re living together in a completely different way.

David moves toward me and sits on my desk. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? I know living with a man isn’t what you’re used to. I promise I don’t leave my dirty underwear on the bathroom floor, though.” He nudges my arm with his.

The thought of his clothing on the floor brings back the image of him naked in the shower that Tara ingrained in my brain. I shake my head. “I’m sure it will take a little getting used to, but I really appreciate you letting me stay with you.”

“Stop saying that. I’m not letting you stay with me. You’re my roommate now. You’ll be paying rent. It will be as much your apartment as it is mine.”

He’s sweet, and his words do put me at ease.

“Hey, you two,” Nate calls from his cubicle. “You up for a drink after work? Aria is staying late.”

“And you don’t know what to do without her?” I ask.

Nate smiles. “Something like that. You in?”

I look at David, and I’m not sure why. I don’t need his permission to go for drinks. “Yeah, I’m in. David?” I ask.

“Sounds like a plan. Anyone else going?”

“Sean’s wife is pregnant, so he’s out, and Rebecca said she’s on assignment tonight. Eliza is coming, though.”

Sean is our copy editor. He’s been stressed all month since his wife just entered her final trimester. Rebecca is the photography editor, but she’s filling in for one of our photographers who called out sick from a suspicious number that Mr. Monohan found out came from some location in Cancun. My guess is the photographer will come back on Monday to find he’s out of a job. I have to admit I’m surprised Eliza is coming. She’s the features editor, and she’s made it known she isn’t really into the bar scene. It’s nice that she’s making an effort to get to know everyone better outside of work.

“Care if I ask some of my staff writers? Sasha’s a lot of fun. So is James.” I pull up my email and shoot off two messages. Both are out of the newsroom at the moment, but they’re diligent about checking their email.

“Invite whomever you’d like,” Nate says. “Caleb will certainly appreciate the business.”

“James is the one with the spiky hair, right?” David asks me.

“Um, I guess you could call it spiky.”

He nods. “He doesn’t seem like the type to go for drinks after work. More like the ‘get drunk at a rave’ type.”

“You don’t like James?” I ask. “He’s so nice, and he always has his stories in on time. I’ve never once smelled alcohol on him or seen him show up late.” What could David possibly have against the guy?

“Maybe I’m confusing him with someone else.” He stands up. “So, what time are you calling it quits?”

I consult the clock on my computer. “In about half an hour. You?”

“Same. You have to follow me home, remember?”

“Right.” How could I forget? I’ve never been to his apartment complex. When we dated, we always went back to my place. It hits me that I have no idea what kind of place I’m moving into. Is the building nice? Is it in a bad part of town? What are the neighbors like? Tara said it’s near her place, but I’ve never seen it for myself. I start to panic all over again.

David puts his hand on my shoulder and leans down to look into my eyes. “You okay?”

“I just realized I don’t know where you live.”

“Where we live.”

“Yeah. That’s crazy. This is all happening so quickly, and I—”

“Could really use that drink after work.” He nods. “Come on. Monohan won’t care if we duck out a little early. Your department killed it again with the opinion pieces, so let’s head to the apartment and put your mind at ease.”

When I don’t respond right away, he gently takes me by my arm and pulls me to my feet. “Do you want to okay it with Mr. Monohan first?”

I decide to let him think that’s what’s holding me up. “It will only take a minute,” I say. I step around him and walk toward Mr. Monohan’s office, but Aria’s office door opens.

“Emily, just the person I wanted to see. Do you have a second?” She motions me inside.

I look back over my shoulder at David, who shrugs, before I walk into Aria’s office. “Wow,” I say, moving toward the window behind her desk. “This view never gets old. How do you get any work done?” It’s like looking out over the world. All the people rushing about, the cars zooming by, the sun shining down and promising warm weather...

“I prefer a different view,” Aria says, looking out at Nate’s desk, positioned directly across from her office.

“You have good taste,” I say. “Nate is a fine-looking man.”

“You can look all you want, but hands off,” she says with a smile.

I hold my hands up in front of me. “He’s all yours. Besides, he wouldn’t so much as look my way. He’s completely head over heels for you.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Her voice has that dreamy quality that only people in love can pull off.

“So, what did you want to see me about?” I ask, taking a seat across from her and blocking her view of Nate.

“Right. I wanted to say that you’ve done a fantastic job in your new role as editor. One of my jobs is to do performance reviews on everyone, and I’m happy to say yours is glowing. You stay late, you motivate your staff, and your edits are impeccable.”

She’s commending me for staying late and here I am about to ask for permission to leave early. “I learned a lot from you, Aria,” I say, not to suck up but because it’s true.

“Thank you. I appreciate that. I also have a favor to ask you.”

“What kind of favor?” Suddenly, I’m hoping she’ll ask me to stay late so I can delay the inevitable—moving in with David.

“I’d like you and David to work together on something. Kind of like you did when Oliver caused that mix-up at Priority News.”

Oliver Strauss is the son of Marjorie Strauss, owner of Priority News. He’s a great news reporter but a terrible editor. When his mother made Mr. Monohan give Oliver the position of features editor over Aria, he screwed up and assigned David and me the same story. Luckily, Aria had the brilliant idea to combine our stories to show two sides. It’s what started my love of writing opinion pieces, and it’s why I got this job.

“You and David worked really well together, and that piece got the paper a lot of views. We were thinking maybe you two would want to do a few pieces together. We don’t want to add too much to your workload though, so we wouldn’t give you deadlines. It would be more of a flexible schedule where you write the stories and we publish them as you’re ready.”

“Have you talked to David about it yet?” I ask, wondering if he already knows.

Aria picks up the pen on her desk and clicks it a few times. “I’m not sure how to say this, so I’m just going to blurt it out. Terry and I thought the best shot we had at getting David on board was getting you to agree first.”

I’m not sure why either of them would think I had that kind of pull with David. “I’m not sure I understand. David’s been working with you both a lot longer than I have. He’s a brilliant writer, too.”

“Agreed on both accounts.”

That can only mean they’re asking me first because they think I won’t be foolish enough to say no. No other paper would hire me for an editorial position at my age and level of experience. They know I won’t jeopardize my job over this. “I get it.” I stand up.

“Emily, please don’t take this the wrong way. Terry and I love you. Your job is safe here. Trust me. You can say no to this, and honestly, that’s why I’m asking you in private instead of sitting down with both you and David.”

Now she has my attention. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen you two interact, and before this week, I would have said you’d both jump at this opportunity. But something’s changed between you. I don’t know what, and I don’t need to. It’s your life, but I’m sensing some tension, and if that will prevent you from writing a solid piece with David, then I’ll understand and we’ll drop this idea.”

She’d really shelf the idea if I were uncomfortable working with David? I shouldn’t be surprised. Aria is great, and she’s always thinking of people’s feelings. “What would you tell Mr. M. if I said no?”

“I’d come up with another great plan for increasing our readership and pitch that to him instead.”

She really is the best, but I can’t let her do that for me. “You’re right. Something did change this week, but not what you’re probably thinking.” After David and I broke up and not much changed between us at work, rumors started that we were still together but keeping it a secret. Neither David nor I bothered to clear up the rumors. People would think what they wanted to anyway.

“Okay, so I’ll come up with a plan B.”

“No. You don’t have to. What changed is that I have to move out of my apartment. David has a spare room and offered to be my roommate.”

“Oh.” Her head jerks back. “And you said yes,” she continues. “In that case, I think we better wait on this idea and see how things work out with your new living arrangements.”

Her words hit me hard. She clearly doesn’t think this is a good idea either. My whole world suddenly feels like it’s spinning out of control.