I must have fallen asleep because when I open my eyes, the sun is beaming through the window and Wyatt is gone. He leaves a note on the coffee table: “Work calls. Get some rest, beautiful.” I feel a sharp pang of disappointment when I realize I won’t see his face. Hey, maybe it’s just hunger pains. I am ravenous in the morning. Yeah, maybe that’s it.

Wyatt is true to his word. First thing in the morning, a man comes to install new locks on the doors and the windows. Not long after, I place a call to my sister. After I update her, she tries really hard to contain herself and not come through the phone and strangle me for not calling her last night.

She scolds me like I’m a child who has broken curfew and needs to be punished. I love her to death and I know it comes from a good place, but she really needs to back off. I debated not telling her, but if something like that happened to her, I’d want to know. When I finally convince her that I’m okay, she asks about Danny. She says I was right to freak out and she hates that Danny is now on my mind.

But Danny isn’t the one on my mind. The guy I can’t stop thinking about is Wyatt. I’m only half listening to my sister because I’m too busy looking over at the sofa where we sat. He held me all night. His hold was firm but tender. I laid my head on his rock-solid chest and felt safe. And when his powerful hand gently stroked my arm, it caused a tingle down my spine unlike anything I ever felt before. When I replay that moment, a fleet of butterflies takes flight in the pit of my belly.

“Bree, I gotta go, or I’ll be late for work. You tell Lily I love her.”

“Are you one hundred percent sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I can’t believe the dumpster part.”

“So you can process the gunshots but not the trash?”

“You live in New York City. That’s why for years I’ve told you, you need to move—”

“Yeah, I know. I know. But can we argue about my life choices later?”

She reluctantly agrees and lets me off the hook. I hop in the shower and wait for it to get nice and hot. I stand under the downpour and try wash away all the drama of the past twenty-four hours. But no matter how long I stay in the shower, I can’t seem to get Wyatt out of my head. It’s not just being held by him that has me acting so nuts, it’s something else—he listened. We sat on the sofa and he listened to me. All the guys I’ve been with before only pretended to listen so they could get back to the part where they talked. But Wyatt was different…

I get out of the shower and remind myself that chances are, Wyatt was just doing his job. I was a hysterical woman that he had no choice but to look after. There was no “spark” like I thought when our eyes met in the alley. It was all in my head. In reality, he’s got several women or one amazing woman at home. She’s one of those women who looks good in everything and doesn’t own any fat pants. Why would she? She never gains any weight. She wears white and never spills anything on it. She buys her lingerie at high-end places like La Perla. And even if by some miracle he was single, I’m not looking for a relationship. After what happened with Danny, I was a fool to even try dating.

“Guys don’t know how to love back. I fell for their act once; I won’t do it again. I can’t,” I tell myself as I look in the mirror. It helps. It has renewed my resolve. I don’t need a man. I have the kids at the center. I have my friends and family. I need my trusty vibrator and, yes, my Netflix. I take in a deep breath and vow never to think about “Mr. Hot and Sexy” ever again.

I open my closet and decide on a chocolate brown pencil skirt, paired with a fitted ivory silk blouse I got on sale at Macy’s. I dab a little perfume on my wrist and put on my heels, a hint of lip gloss, and a little mascara. That’s it. I’m ready to go back to normal. No bullets. No drama. And no dating.

***

I pull into the parking lot and grab the box of supplies from the back of my trunk. The city gives our program a yearly stipend, but it’s rarely enough for the things we need to do. So I often add my money and get us additional supplies. I usually have a box or two of supplies, but this time I have five boxes thanks to the mega sale at Office Depot.

“Hi, Ms. Bennett! Do you need help?” a little boy says with a thick Spanish accent. His name is Luis Pena. He’s nine years old and has ink black hair, warm brown eyes, and a smile that makes it hard to say no whenever he asks for something.

“Yes, thank you, Luis.” He takes one of the boxes, and together we head for my office. The hallway is filled with artwork from our kids and trophies from various competitions they have entered. The family across the street adopted Luis over a year ago. He’s happier than I’ve ever seen him. His older brother, Carlos, is sixteen and has yet to find a family. The two of them are so close, it hurt to watch them be separated. Luis’s new family couldn’t afford to take both boys, but thankfully, after school, Luis takes classes here and he meets up with Carlos.

“Hey, where’s your bother? I haven’t seen him in class. I don’t like him missing college prep.”

“He’s busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Um…stuff,” he says, avoiding eye contact.

“Hey, Luis, come here.” He comes closer to me.

“Is everything okay with Carlos? Is he having any issues with his new group home?” I ask.

“He has friends. New friends. And they hang out a lot.”

“What kind of friends?”

Luis shrugs his shoulders. This neighborhood has its fair share of gangs but Carlos is a good kid and he won’t get into anything like that.

“Tell me about his new friends,” I push.

“They just hang out on the corner and stuff. He said they were cool. I don’t like them much. I think they with this new crew, the Street Kings.”

“Carlos knows better than that, right?”

“He said it’s not a gang, it’s like a club or something.”

I try to hide my worry and sound upbeat. I tell Luis to have Carlos come and see me when he comes after school. I thank Luis for his help and I remind him of the time. “School starts in twenty minutes. You better get going,” I suggest.

“Ms. Bennett, my school is only two blocks away and my skateboard skills are sick. I’ll get there early,” he gushes.

“I heard that you’re getting pretty good at that thing.” I smile.

“Good? No, I’m the best.”

“Well I’m glad to hear it. Now, what about Math class? How did the test go last week?”

“Math doesn’t get me. See, Ms. Bennett, I’m a complicated man,” he says in earnest. I suppress a smile.

“Math doesn’t need to ‘get you,’ you need to get it. And you can. You just need to spend as much time on it as you do on that thing,” I reply, pointing to his skateboard.

“I won’t need it. I’m gonna be the most richest and most famous skater that ever lived. I won’t need math at all.”

“Okay, you are now the richest skateboarder on the planet. You get lots of endorsement deals, commercials, and everything.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Here’s the thing, Luis: Math will help you with that. Because with all the money you will be making, you need to keep track. Now, you can hire someone to look after your money, but who’s gonna look after that guy?”

“Oh,” he says as he takes in what I said.

“You can do anything in life, anything you want. I know that about you. But what do I always tell you, Luis?”

“If I am willing to work for it, there’s nothing I can’t have,” he says with a big sigh.

“That’s right. If you want to be good at math, go be good at it. That means not skipping our after-school tutoring session with Mrs. Paul.”

“You know about that?” he says, shocked.

“Yeah, I do. So after school your butt better be here with your homework out, ready to work.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be here. Don’t worry I’ll get really good at the math stuff so we can hold on to all our money when we get married.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I see that for us.”

“You want to be my husband?”

“Yeah, but I need time, you know, to see other girls,” he says as he runs out of the room and hops on his board. I laugh out loud and shake my head. He’s one of my favorites kids.

“Hey, be careful, Luis!” I hear my best friend, Jana, calling out in the hallway. I open the door and hug her. Jana Miller is a walking heart. She has curly dark hair, a curvy figure, and great cheekbones. She loves clubs, short skirts, and flirting. She was away on vacation until this morning, so I didn’t even think to call her about last night.

“How was Jamaica?” I ask.

“Yummy!” she says with a mischievous grin. She tells me about her many conquests on the small island. She’s always complaining that she needs to lose weight, but she never has trouble getting guys. She’s charming, sweet, and cares very much about the center.

“I don’t think mangos are supposed to be used like that,” I reply as we share a laugh. She nears the end of her third tale of island scandal by saying she can’t wait to go back and that I should come with her next time.

“Thanks, but I’ve had enough adventure in the past few hours. I need peace and quiet.”

“What’s going on?”

I tell her about yesterday as we unpack the supplies. Unlike my sister, Jana is not a drama queen. She could see that all in all I was okay. However, she can also spot when I am holding something back. She can sniff it out of me like a police dog.

“So…this guy who took you home…” she begins.

Shit. Okay, I can do this. I can stay emotionless as I answer her questions. No big deal.

“Oh, yeah. His name was Wyatt or something. Anyway, he stayed the night to make sure I didn’t go totally nuts. Then he went home or wherever. Anyway, I’m good and the drama is over. Yeah, anyway…it’s all good now,” I reply as I busy myself with tasks around the office. She pauses, raises her eyebrows, and looks over at me with suspicion.

“Winter Madison Bennett, you better stop lying to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes you are. When you lie, you say ‘anyway’ like ten times. You’re terrible at lying. So don’t try it. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” I insist. Jana tilts her head to the side and places her hands across her chest. Crap.

“Okay, okay. The guy—the detective was…kind of good looking and kind of not a jerk.”

“Oh my God! You had a sexy-ass detective holding you all through the night and you wanted to fuck him!” she says, jumping up and down.

“Shhh! Lower your voice.”

“Do you know what this means? You are finally over that shit rag, Danny. You are ready to venture, and Mr. Hottie is going to be your first rebound.”

“No, he’s not.”

“Why not?” she whines.

“I’m done with dating.”

“Okay, so you two can fuck. You’re not done with fucking, right?”

“I don’t want anything to do with Wyatt.”

“Oh my God, you like him! Oh, this is too good!”

“Jana, can we get back to work? We have a ton of things to go over before the afternoon sessions begin.”

“Okay fine, but this isn’t over,” she warns.

***

A few hours later, I’m in my office and I hear one of my favorite sounds—a hallway full of chatty kids running to class. Today is our ‘Life Skills’ class. The kids love it because a professional comes to talk to them and explain how they got their jobs and the skills that were required.

They thought we were just going to have business people come and lecture them, but Jana and I go out of our way to get them interesting speakers that will excite and educate them. We’ve had firemen come in wearing their uniforms, chefs who made them dessert, and scientists who let them create their own mini science projects at their table.

Today we’re supposed to have a class on “Drug prevention.” The local precinct was supposed to send a drug prevention officer to us but they have cancelled twice already. So, when I see the look on Jana’s face as she comes down the steps, I’m guessing they cancelled a third time.

“You have to be kidding me! Don’t they get how important this class is to the kids?” I snap before she can even speak.

“I know. I told them the last time they cancelled that we really need them to come through,” Jana replies.

“So the kids are ready to go and, yet again, there is no speaker? That’s unacceptable,” I reply as I take out my cell and dial the number of the precinct.

“Okay, Winter, don’t call with an attitude. If you do they won’t send anyone over here.”

“Well it’s not like they are sending anyone here anyway. Argh! What the hell is their problem?” I bark.

“Maybe the speaker is just late,” Jana suggests.

“What kind of jerk would keep a class full of kids waiting?” I demand.

“The kind of jerk who didn’t know about it until twenty minutes ago,” someone says behind me. I turn towards the entrance and find Wyatt standing in the doorway. My jaw drops. My pulse races and I marvel at how good he looks in daylight. Damn him.

He looks so damn good, every inch of me is aching to touch him. He’s even hotter than I remember. He’s not wearing anything special, just dark jeans, a grey tee shirt, a leather jacket, and boots. But he’s the finest thing I’ve seen in all my life. My heart leaps into my mouth. I can’t recall what I was mad about or even what Jana and I were talking about.

“It’s…you,” I reply, utterly beside myself.

“Hi. How’s your arm? Does it hurt? Are you okay? I thought I’d hear from you,” he says warmly as he gazes into my eyes. He has this way of turning off the whole world and only paying attention to me. It’s as if I’m the only one he sees. I’ve never had that before. It’s a powerful thing. It’s also scary for me, since it only makes me want him more.

“You’re a detective. You don’t do this kind of stuff,” I reply, still in a haze.

“Normally, no. But the guy who does this is a friend. He needed me to cover for him, and I owed him one,” Wyatt says. His voice. I forgot how deep and rich it was. It awakens parts of me that have no business being awake. Jana clears her throat and holds out her hand. She’s so damn happy; it’s a wonder she’s not dancing.

“So…you’re Wyatt. Wow. Just…wow. I’m Jana,” she says, sounding like she’s auditioning for a feature porn flick.

He takes her hand, never once breaking eye contact with me. The urge to fall into his arms is so strong that I have to place my hands on the wall behind me so I won’t give in. He studies me like I’m the last piece of a puzzle he’s been trying to solve. I’d love it if he played with me like a puzzle. If he laid his powerful hands all over me. I’d whimper as he bent and molded me to fit into place.

“We should probably get started,” Jana says as she studies both of us. I guess she realized the two of us were never going to willingly pull away from each other’s gaze.

We enter the assembly room, the largest room in the center. All the kids, of various ages, have gathered awaiting today’s speaker.

If Wyatt is nervous, he’s not showing it. His walk to the front of the class is confident and certain. When he addresses the students, he does so with a strong, commanding voice that scares the hell out of the kids but in a good way. His tone is firm and adamant. He’s unlike any other speaker we’ve had.

He tells the kids about the horrors of drug use, but it’s more like a conversation than a lecture. He curses. I hate that. But the kids love it. They feel connected with him. I can tell because long after the bell rings, the kids are still seated. They ask follow-up questions, and he’s honest with them.

He tells them about some of the bloody, messy, and sad things he’s seen in his line of work. And how he believes they can avoid that if they really want to. He gives it to them straight, no bullshit. (Which is exactly how he put it.) When he’s done, the whole class cheers.

Joy, a cutie pie no more than five years old, raises her hand. When Wyatt picks her, she gives him her bright, toothless smile. “Do you have a girlfriend?” she says as she giggles. Her classmates join her. Before he can reply, I stand up and tell the kids to thank Wyatt for coming. I did that because the afterschool is over and they need to get home and also because there’s a very real chance that he does have a girl. And I just didn’t want to hear him say “yes.”