When Levi passes by the exit to take me home, I turn to him, the music filling the flashy sports car so loud I have to yell to speak over it. “You can take the next exit, too.”

He turns, his blue eyes darkened with anger and the night. “We’re still in Indiana?” There’s question in his tone.

“Right… I live in Indiana.”

His brows furrow. “This will only take a moment.”

“Yeah, but I think you got the wrong impression. See, I’m not…”

“Confusing? Frustrating? Enigmatic? You are. All of them. You’re also funny, and smart, and creative, and while I get the impression this scares you”—he waves a hand between us—“this thing between us, I’m going to shoulder this for both of us until you realize it’s worth it.”

The idea of he and I becoming a we is terrifying. It’s also inexplicably exciting.

“Is this because you see me as a challenge? Because I’m not falling at your feet?”

Levi shakes his head. “There’s something different about you. I recognized it the second I saw you.”

“What?”

He shakes his head again. “I have no idea.”

My attempt at laughing is as ludicrous as his claim. “That’s ridiculous. You didn’t know me—you don’t know me. Claiming there’s something different about me is absurd. I’m boring. I prefer pajamas to dresses, barefoot to shoes, and I am realizing that I really suck at almost all girly things. My idea of fun is finding the best doughnut shops in town, though you and Jerry sort of ruined that for me recently. And I’ve realized I’m about to turn thirty and I don’t think I know who in the hell I even am.”

“You’re almost thirty?”

“How old did you think I was?”

“Not thirty.”

“Cradle robber.”

He laughs. “I didn’t think you were twenty.”

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re looking for wrinkles on my face.”

Levi closes his eyes, his laughter growing. “Did you know that when you get upset, your nose crinkles and you bite the inside of your cheek?”

“I’m not upset. I’m flustered.”

For some reason, this only makes him smile wider. “And when someone pays you a compliment, you deflect it and look away, which concerns me. Because I’m starting to believe you’re not actually hearing what people are saying to you.”

“Are you hearing what I’m saying to you?”

“I know Felicity, her kids, and husband are family to you and that when you feel threatened, your brilliance shines and you become really funny.”

“I’m not funny,” I say. “I’m mildly sarcastic, but most people don’t actually catch on, so I generally just sound like a moron.”

“Will you shut up and accept my compliment?” He looks at me again, daring me to oppose. It’s harder than it should be to keep his gaze and not refute his words—and even harder to consider them being true.

“Prepare yourself. Prepare your walls of defense and your excuses because I’m ready. I’m ready for all of it. I’m going to be here to break down every brick you build and shatter every lie you try to believe. And tonight, after I clean up this fuckface’s mess, I’m going to sleep with you, and you’re going to forget caring about what my mother might think, or do, or say and realize me being your client means jack shit.”

I stare at him, searching for words of protest, but I can’t find a single one because more than I want to object … I want to believe him.

He grins. “By the way, I’m going to be busy for the next two weeks.”

“What?”

“Apparently, I’ve got to work on my doughnut skills. That old fucker.”

I giggle so hard tears form in my eyes, and when I look across at Levi, he’s looking back at me like I’ve just hung the moon.

Several cop cars are in front of the club, double-parked, their lights strobing against downtown.

“They would make this a production,” Levi says, going around the block and pulling into the alley. He opens a garage door with the press of a button, and we drive below the club into a small parking garage filled with massive beams and numerous cars. Parking in Chicago is not only expensive, it also reminds me of a game of Tetris. Personally, I’m willing to fork over forty bucks on the rare occasion I come downtown and can’t use my company card, because situations like this make me so nervous I sweat. Levi, however, pulls forward and then reverses into a spot without having to make a single correction.

“That’s like a thrill ride,” I tell him.

“What? The garage?”

I nod. Levi chuckles, and like I did the first time I heard it, I lean closer, enjoying the deep rumble that somehow paints my lips with a matching expression.

“I’ll take you to my office so you don’t have to deal with the craziness.”

I shrug. “I don’t mind.”

His hand goes to my back. “I do.” He leads me to a back stairwell, and we climb three floors before he pulls out a set of keys and unlocks a door. Inside is an office much larger than the one at the bar we’d stopped at. This one is also far more elaborate, making it clear he spends more time here. There are several monitors on his desk, and the walls are decorated with achievements and awards. There isn’t a single photo among them.

“What?” he asks, stepping up beside me.

I shake my head, the gesture slight. “What?” I ask in return.

“You made a face.”

“I did?”

The left side of his lips quirks.

“I didn’t mean to.”

A smile claims his mouth. “The door will automatically lock behind me. No one should bother you up here. But if you need anything, you can call my cell phone. Hopefully, this won’t take long.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to my temple before turning to the door.

He stops with one hand on the door and turns to me, his stare intent. “You won’t sit up here and talk yourself out of this, will you?”

“I’ve spent the past several weeks doing that, and yet here I am.”

“That’s not very assuring.”

“Really?”

“Maybe you should come with me. If it looks like you’re overthinking things, I’ll just punch someone in the face.”

“Because that will speed up the process.”

“It’s so I look tough. Manly. Sexy.” He flexes, but I don’t get to enjoy the show because I’m laughing so hard my eyes are watering.

“No? That’s not working for you?”

“Well, you know me, the prospect of waiting to bail you out of jail is mighty enticing but… no.”

“Is that a firm no? You kind of wavered at the end.”

“Oh my gosh, go fix whatever problem there is downstairs.” I take two steps to reach him and shove him toward the door, but he doesn’t move except to take a single step back, his chest fully exposed for a moment before he encircles me with his arms. His lips land on mine possessively, deliciously. He tastes like hope and comfort. Then his tongue slides across my upper lip, and my knees become as weak as my reasons for stopping this.

“I’ll be back as soon as possible.” He peppers my cheeks and lips with more kisses and then leaves me feeling dazed.

I’m scrolling through my emails when Levi’s office door clicks open with a key. It’s only been a few moments, not even long enough for me to reply to Catherine’s request for best mother of the groom dance songs. Then I see Levi, a short blonde at his side. Though her head is bowed, I can see that her cheeks are red and tearstained.

I’m on my feet in a second, glancing around for a tissue box that doesn’t exist.

“Simone, this is my friend Brooke,” Levi says. “Why don’t you have a seat up here until everything’s done.”

She sniffs and nods, keeping her face turned to the floor.

Levi glances at me, apologies rolling off of him like a breeze.

I shake my head to make him stop and walk toward them, placing a hand on her shoulder. She visibly flinches, making my heart ache. I look back to Levi and nod, assuring him to go.

“Your hair is so beautiful,” I tell her. “I recently tried to improve my hair by deep-conditioning, and let me tell you, it was a mess. You know that look when you’re sick and don’t wash your hair for a week? That was me. And it wouldn’t go away.” I slide my hand across her shoulders, leading her to the oversized couch. “I had to ask a friend for help because my hair literally wouldn’t dry—it was that greasy.”

Simone tilts her face up, a tired smile warring with her sadness. “Being a girl sucks.”

“Sometimes,” I say, nodding.

Tears fall freely down her cheeks, and my own eyes water in response. I’ve never been good at watching others cry alone. I scoot closer to her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. This time, she doesn’t recoil at my touch but falls into me.

Levi’s frozen in the doorway, watching us. I swallow back tears as I run my hand over her hair. Though my mom wasn’t there for most of my life, Grammy, Felicity, and Felicity’s mom have always been there for me, teaching me compassion, empathy, and how the best medicine is often a caring touch.

Levi returns an hour later. I’m sitting on the couch with Simone’s head in my lap. She fell asleep after confessing how difficult it’s been to get over her broken relationship, leading her to exchanging calls and messages with her ex. I know next to nothing about giving advice to anyone in an abusive relationship; however, my past and the responses I’ve received when people have learned that I was raised by my grandma have me prepared to not pass judgment but offer more sympathy. I know what it’s like to be starved for love, expecting it and accepting it in methods that are often difficult and strange to understand.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “My lawyer showed up and wanted to talk shop and give advice to everyone involved. And one of the cops and I have history, which didn’t help. And…” He rubs a hand across his forehead.

I wave away his words. “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad we came. This—you coming to help—it was way sexier than a fancy dinner.”

Levi sighs, his gaze so heavy I struggle to maintain it. “You better prepare yourself for me to be around for a very long time because I have a feeling it would hard to get over you.”

Gabe sleeping with the brunette in our bed springs to the forefront of my thoughts, creating an entire slew of evidence that I’m not. It’s nearly as painful as thinking of my past and admitting my parents didn’t love me in ways I wanted—needed—as a child and even now.

“Don’t think of him,” Levi says, reading my thoughts. He crosses the room, his voice still hushed as he shakes his head. “He didn’t deserve your time then and certainly doesn’t now.”

Embarrassment or maybe my need to argue has me looking away. “Did everything get cleared up?”

“Yeah. The asshole was arrested, and my lawyer’s on his way to bail my employee out.”

Surprise has me looking back at Levi. “He was arrested?”

He nods, running a hand over his face again.

“What should we do?” I glance back at Simone.

“Her roommate works here as well and is waiting for her downstairs.”

Simone stirs. She rolls over, blinking several times as she looks at me.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She nods slowly, then sits up, noticing Levi has returned. “I’m so sorry, boss. I had no idea he was going to come. He’s been so sweet lately… I have no idea where this came from.”

“Only you can make the decision to leave him and be done, Simone. But you know how toxic your life becomes when he’s a part of it.”

“I know.” She drops her hands into her palms. “I’m so sorry. I know I cost you money, and Alex got arrested, and I ruined your date…” She groans. “You finally had a date! I like her. You did good.” She points at me. “And she’s pretty, not in that fake way like the last one.”

Last one?

My stomach turns acidic. It’s not reasonable or fair, because of course he would date, but it still leaves me feeling sour.

“No. No. He doesn’t date,” she says, placing her hand on my thigh, assuring me my thoughts were just etched across my face. “The last woman he brought here was his girlfriend, and none of us liked her because all she’d do was order people around.”

I’m contemplating polite ways of asking her to stop sharing with me because while her intentions are benign—to be assuring even—it only fills me with doubt, when there’s a knock on the office door.

Levi quietly sighs, clearly relieved as well. “Hey, Gretchen,” he says, pushing the door open farther.

Simone stands before looking back at me. “Thanks for … everything. I really appreciate it.”

I also stand, hoping this will be the last time she has to endure a night like this. “Take care of yourself, and if you ever need anything, you know how to reach me.”

She smiles. “And I’ll check out your blog. You’ve inspired me to go rock climbing.” She hugs me, and though I’m used to protesting upon receiving a compliment, I keep my mouth shut.

When the door closes behind Gretchen and Simone, Levi turns to me. “Do you have plans for tomorrow? Can I hijack your entire night? It’s already”—he looks at his wrist—“past midnight. Can I just tell you again that this isn’t how the night was supposed to go?”

“That’s right. You were planning to brainwash me with sex.”

He laughs. “That wasn’t part of the original plan either.”

“What were the plans?”

“We were supposed to go to the escape room, then try out this vegan restaurant a buddy of mine told me is the best in Chicago, and then I was planning to take you to this pop-up bar.”

“A pop-up bar?”

Levi nods. “It’s kind of ridiculous. It’s loud because they have to use generators, and the place is lit with Christmas lights, which kind of confuses your senses because they’re the multicolored ones, and there’s, like, fake palm trees and three drink choices, but the bands they manage to get are always ridiculously good.”

“I’m impressed with your planning skills.”

“Are you as impressed with my execution skills?” He closes the space between us, one large hand landing on my waist.

“I don’t know. This may not have been the most romantic of stops. After all, I’ve learned from planning weddings and parties that nothing kills the buzz faster than cops except for a fight, and we just endured both.”

“You deal with brawls and cops?”

“Thankfully, it’s not very often, but once in a while I get a crazy situation. Feed me, and I’ll tell you all about them.”

His fingers constrict around my waist, and his lips slide higher. “I make a mean spaghetti sauce.”

“You’ll cook for me?”

“We’re not chancing going out. I don’t trust fate tonight.”

I lean closer, breathing him in. The warmth of his skin radiates against mine, pulling me closer. “You should. This stop, you coming to help … talk about panty melting.”

With the tilt of his chin, Levi’s lips are on mine, so intent and purposeful that the kiss is almost painful for a moment before his hand slides into place along my jaw. A calmness fills him; I can feel it in the way his touch and breaths and mouth become lighter. But I don’t want calm. I want fevered, passionate, demanding—I want us to be unapologetically greedy. Forget about inhibitions and give and take until our bodies physically can’t.

I wrap my hands around his neck, pulling him tighter against me, and dig my teeth into his bottom lip. His hand on my waist slides lower, trailing over my backside as he moans. It’s so intoxicating I feel light-headed before he steals that, too, and our kiss becomes a warzone.

A knock on the door followed by a call to Levi has us pausing for only a second before Levi kisses me softly, languidly.

“Should we stop?” I ask, barely managing to keep my eyes open and remain in my own space. Everything inside of me wants to lean forward and lose sight of reality and continue kissing Levi.

His fingers, still tunneled in my hair, constrict. He shakes his head and pulls me closer. “No.”

Our lips are like magnets, pushing and pulling, refusing to part. His thumb strokes my cheek, featherlight, creating a need that builds deep within me. I want to feel him everywhere. I shift so that I’m closer to him, my body bowed to align against his. Our hips slide together, and Levi groans, his fingers pulling tighter before his tongue swipes my bottom lip. The taste of whiskey is so intoxicating and consuming I know now that I’ll never be able to smell it and not think of this moment.

Levi pulls back, kissing me once and then twice on the lips. His blue eyes remain bright as they dance from my lips to my eyes.

There’s another knock on the door.

“This isn’t stopping. No cold feet or magical clock chiming midnight or whatever. We give this a fair shot. We see what this is worth.”

“You say that like it will be easy. I ran into my ex a few weeks ago, and it was awkward as hell. Can you imagine if we decide to stop seeing each other and still have to work together?”

“The differences between him and me are vast. Be your fiercely independent self and work sixty hours a week—”

“Sometimes more like eighty,” I interject.

Levi’s eyes round. “We might need to negotiate and bring it down to sixty. I’ve got plans for us.”

I roll my eyes. “Let me guess—they involve being naked in your bed?”

A slow grin curls his lips. “No. I also have a shower, a bathtub, a vanity, a huge island in my kitchen, a few couches, a couple of cars…”

I laugh, shaking my head.

“I also have plans to show you more of Chicago. Take you to some White Sox games,” he says, tucking some hair behind my ear. “Check out a couple of these vegan restaurants I’ve been learning about. Go to Hume Chicago, because I’m betting you’ve never seen a movie at Humboldt Park.”

“Is this your version of foreplay? Tell me about all these incredible secrets around the city you want to show me? Because, I’ll admit, it’s working.”

A smile flashes across his face, and my heart stops completely before breaking into a faster rhythm. “Let’s go.”

“Is someone looking for you?”

Levi shakes his head. “Probably. But they’ll find me tomorrow. Maybe I should get a receptionist. I’m pretty sure I speak with the one at your work more than I do you.”

“Andrea?”

“Is that her name? I can’t ever understand her. She’s so quiet.”

I nod. “Stop calling the main line. You can always call me direct or call my cell phone.”

“I was attempting to prove to you that I’m not my mother.”

I laugh. “That’s a good goal. A very good goal.”

He nods. “I thought you might appreciate it.” Levi stares at me, thoughts visible in his eyes that he again doesn’t translate. Then he grins. It’s slow and sexy and so damn confident I feel as though he’s just stripped me of my clothes. He leans closer, his lips brushing my ear. I shiver, his warmth tickling my desires. “I’ve been thinking about you since I met you at my club. You crave me just like I crave you. You don’t want to, but you do. Tonight, I’m going to show you why.”

He nips my ear with his teeth, flicking his tongue against the same spot. “Fuck, I’m going to enjoy this.”

I’m a puddle. I can’t formulate a thought, much less a sentence.

The moment we’re in the front seat of his car, our hands work to connect us. Touching each other’s legs, arms, hands, anywhere—everywhere. The drive is short, leading us to a tall apartment building with a less-intense parking garage.

Levi’s hands link with mine, and though there’s still the need to be close, it isn’t in the same way it had been in his office. It’s calmer now, more relaxed. We seem comfortable and content as we stroll to the elevator, where Levi enters a code, and we ride up to the forty-fourth floor.

The building is worlds apart from my old apartment—clean hallways and a functioning elevator. It even has a parking garage that is heated and well-lit. When Levi pauses in front of his door, I don’t feel the same nervous energy I’d been expecting to feel. The night, though completely offbeat, has allowed me to see sides of Levi I hadn’t expected, and each of them has led me to liking him even more.

Levi pushes the door open and flips on several lights before waving me in. It smells like fall, of spiced apples and cardamom. It’s also chilly, adding to the autumn feeling of his home. I want to change into a hoodie and warm socks and drink apple cider. The floors are covered in large planked wood that is stained so light it’s nearly white, and a long puzzle of bricks lines the opposite wall, stamped with large windows that look out over the city lights. The furniture is sparse—a couple of couches, a table in the living room, and a kitchen with nearly nothing on the counters.

“Is this your permanent home?”

Levi raises his eyebrows with question.

“Where’s all your stuff?”

He shrugs. “I didn’t want anything that would compete with the view.”

“I expected to walk in and see White Sox memorabilia everywhere.”

A lazy grin stretches his lips. “I do have some Sox stuff throughout the place. You can search and find it all.”

His comment leaves me grinning and my heart thumping because it sounds like an invitation that might take a while.

He crosses into the spotless kitchen, filled with more brick and stainless-steel appliances, and pulls a remote from a drawer. With a couple of pressed buttons, music filters from the ceiling. There’s something peaceful about seeing him in his own setting.

“Would you like some wine?”

I take a deep breath and nod though I don’t. I don’t care about food, or music, or the views of Chicago; all I want to do is lose myself in Levi.

He tilts his chin, motioning for me to step closer, and I follow him behind a half wall that leads to an extensive walk-in pantry, the back wall a large wine rack. I can’t fathom how much this place must cost, and while it would likely have caused me to feel uncomfortable a few months ago to have this large of a gap between our means, the fact is merely that—a fact about his life that doesn’t add or detract anything about who he is.

Levi’s hand runs down my back, resting on my hip. “What do you like? Do you prefer sweeter? Drier? Fruitier? Smoother?”

His palm is so hot against my flesh it feels like it’s burned through my shirt, distracting me from thoughts of wines and preferences. I turn so we’re facing each other, and Levi’s gaze shifts between my eyes, and for the first time I feel like I understand each silent question and desire as it filters by, and my answer to each of them—to all of them—is to lean forward and kiss him.

Levi leans closer, his hand rising to my cheek, but he doesn’t lead or push the kiss, allowing me to go at my own tempo. I kiss him slowly, enjoying the way his lips bend to mine and how his fingers inch higher into my hair with each passing second. When I tilt my head so that I’m closer, my body flush against his, an invisible switch flips, and Levi’s hand on my waist moves to the small of my back and draws a slow trail down, over my backside, making my lungs expand because I can’t breathe when he touches me like this—like he wants me. A low groan breaks from his lips, and then he draws the same delicious line back up, this time going all the way to my shoulder blade.

He kisses me again, harder this time, that mixture of frenzy and desire culminating, creating a pressure that builds in my chest. I slide my hands over his shoulders, feeling the soft cotton of his shirt, hard planes, and contours of muscles that roll and shift below my fingers as he moves, touching me—leaving the brand of his touch across my body.

Levi growls; it’s a low and deep sound that sends tingles over my flesh. For weeks I’ve imagined what it would be like to be this close to him, to feel him against me. Even in my most vivid of dreams, it didn’t feel like this—like my breaths depended on his and my heart raced to maintain his same pattern. His tongue moves along mine, hot and purposeful, stealing the last of my lingering thoughts.

I lower my hands to the hem of his shirt and tug it upward, my hands skimming over his defined abs up to his chest, where I hesitate, not wanting to separate from him so I can take it off.

Then his hands are on my bare flesh, and I’m gasping, each breath a task as his fingers trail over my skin, leaving paths I’ll never be able to forget. With a quick shift, he pulls the blouse free, up over my head where it falls silently, tickling my toes as it lands nearby.

The room is bright as Levi’s gaze travels over me, and I wonder if he can see what he does—if he can see the same marks that I feel emblazoned upon my skin. If he knows the reaction my body has to him, the reaction my heart has to him.

“You’re so beautiful.” His words are hushed and thoughtful, not said with the same smoothness I’ve heard him use other times he’s flirted.

I want to tell him that I don’t care. That I don’t care about who his mom is, or that he’s my client, or that I’ll likely ruin a professional relationship because of this line I’m ready to leap across. Instead, I lift his shirt again, and I don’t hesitate. I peel it from him, exposing his full chest. I place a hand against his bare skin—his heat sears my hand. I whisper, “Thank you.” Maybe it’s for telling me I’m pretty, maybe it’s for helping me forget the ugly sides of my past, or perhaps it’s for leading me down this path of self-discovery—maybe it’s for everything.

Levi takes my hand from his chest, encircling it with his, and grabs a bottle off the wine rack with his other hand. He leads me back to the kitchen, where he withdraws a corkscrew and two large wineglasses that hang upside down from below the cabinets.

Then he leads me down a short hall to his bedroom.