Hailey passed the next couple of days in indecision. Luckily, work was always there and with weekend weddings happening, she had lists aplenty to keep her occupied. She’d told Ryder she was busy with weddings and that she’d call him when she had a chance. His offer to help her out made her feel worse, but she needed time to think so had told him she worked better alone.

She needed time to figure out what she wanted.

All she knew was what she didn’t want. She didn’t want the standard Saturday night dinner-and-a-movie date. She didn’t want sex three point five times a week, every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday per routine. She didn’t want to have to explain why she had to miss another of his work functions because she had a wedding or a dinner or something else related to work and feel guilt when he looked disappointed. She didn’t want to have to strive to make him feel like “the man” after ten hours of running around, getting him a beer and listening as he spoke about himself for five hours before falling asleep in front of the news.

She wanted . . . passion. Her way, of course, but still. Hot sex in the shower or on the couch or on the kitchen table without worrying how his day had been. She wanted to have a beer in a bar, playing pool for items of clothing, without worrying where they were going as a couple.

But . . . she couldn’t deny she loved listening about Ryder’s day, laughing with him at a wish he’d granted or something his Handler had done. She enjoyed snuggling with him on the couch, a book in her hand as he watched baseball with irritated commentary. The quiet moments or the loud, the times he’d say something that made her heart almost thump out of her chest or the looks he’d shoot her that curled her toes. Sometimes even the way he brushed her hair back from her face.

The rules weren’t working anymore. Although she hated this growing need to have him with her, the quiet joy when he was overwhelmed the loud voice in her head telling her to run.

She didn’t know what to do, but casual was no longer working for her.

Instead of heading home that Friday night, she hit Lullaby with Quentin and Max, ready to hear the scoop on Quentin’s second date with Jon and forget all the question marks dangling over a certain dark-haired, brown-eyed Genie.

They’d ordered a second round when the crowd surrounding the bar all turned to one another and flapped like crazed birds. Only one thing could do that. A celebrity or a Genie.

Damn, was it wrong that she was hoping for Johnny Depp?

A decision about Ryder had yet to be made, her heart and her head tugging rope back and forth. Take a risk? Keep the status quo? Or get out now?

She put a stranglehold on her martini glass. “Who is it?”

Quentin peered over at the dense mob, half-standing from his seat. Very subtle. “Can’t tell. Maybe Hemsworth.”

“Which one?”

“Either. Both are hot.” He grinned, smug happiness dancing. “Though nothing compares to Jon, of course.”

Max mimed being sick and got a napkin in the face. She shoved it off and tapped Hailey’s shoulder with the back of her hand. “C’mon, Hales. It’d be a major coinkidink for Ryder to come to the same place as us.”

“I came here with him before.”

“So? I’ve been to loads of places in this city before. Doesn’t mean I’d go back.”

“She doesn’t need to know about your one nighters right now.” Quentin ignored Max’s suggestive gesture and stirred his rum and Coke with a straw. His brow furrowed as he stared at Hailey. “Anyway, even if it is him, what’s the harm?”

“I don’t know what to do yet.”

“And you have to decide now?”

“You sound like Max.”

“You asked her for advice?” Quentin looked appalled. “Why?”

“Because I have so much experience with romance,” Max drawled, an arm across the back of the booth. Her cleavage sparkled as a light caught her necklace. As she’d said before, she liked to draw attention there.

Quentin only shook his head at her, then turned to Hailey. “Hales, listen to the real expert. You’re having fun. Don’t overthink.”

That was like telling her not to check her lipstick before she left the house. She couldn’t help it.

“But . . .” She hesitated, then went for broke. “What if I’ve already done the stupid thing and care about him? Which I don’t. Obvs.”

“Caring’s bad?”

“Caring is like a noose you hang yourself on.” Her shoulders slumped as she brooded into her martini. “What can I say? ‘Ryder, I want to be casual, but I care more than I should and that terrifies me because I don’t feel like I can end this now.’”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to finish things either. Maybe he’s thinking the same as you.”

“Q, I don’t even know what I’m thinking.” She sighed. “I can’t end things with him and I don’t want to move to the next step. Why can’t there be some kind of nice in-between, where he’s not my ‘boyfriend’”—she used heavy finger quotes—“but he’s more than a fling? Just a few strings so I know I can plan on a Saturday night date or keep beer in my fridge without feeling like a loser. And just a little exclusivity,” she added, thinking back to when she’d mistaken Leo for him with the brunette and had blown a gasket.

“You don’t know until you ask.”

Ever the optimist. “I think he’d echo Ethan and make a hole in the wall.”

Quentin slung an arm around her dejected shoulders, squeezed. “In that case, I’d beat him up for you.”

Max snorted so hard, she choked on her beer.

Quentin shot her a withering stare, dropping his arm from Hailey’s shoulders. “I could take him.”

“On a miniature golf course, sure, but have you seen the size of his muscles? He could rope calves or something. Plus there’s the . . .” Max wiggled her fingers.

“Well, he might be all brawn, but I have the brain.” Quentin sat tall in his shirt and bowtie, his trousers ironed perfectly. “When it comes to strategy, I’d have the upper hand.”

“Until he punched you out with one blow.”

As her friends bickered, Hailey fidgeted on the seat. The hubbub around the bar grew thicker. She swore the word Genie was whispered.

She couldn’t do it. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

She scuttled off before her friends could speak, threading through the crowd, head down. Tendrils of something related to panic sparked her heart.

Maybe it wouldn’t be him, she tried to reassure herself, edging around an obnoxious blonde in a playsuit. Maybe she wouldn’t have to decide right—

Oh, God, there he was by the bar.

She froze in her step, glued to how the ceiling lights shone down on his hair, loose today and more gorgeous for it. She knew those arms, those hands, that crooked smile.

Sheer want locked around her throat, holding her to the spot.

Damn it.

Her heart crowded her throat as she whirled into action. She’d give herself a talk in the bathroom mirror and finally settle on insanity. At least she could eat ice cream in a loony bin and nobody would mind when she made lists about everything from how to spend her day to getting around the guards.

“Oomph.” She bounced back from a hard body she hadn’t seen because of her truly crazy thoughts.

Someone steadied her with a hand around her upper arm. “Sorry, didn’t see you,” a familiar voice said.

Her heart bashed her rib cage. She shouldn’t be surprised; she knew how fast he could move.

Act normal.

Or as normal as you can.

Hailey tilted her head up, waiting for the impact of those brown eyes, the melting strands of amber. But . . .

Her stomach relaxed from its knot. “You’re not Ryder.”

“And you’re not Kate Beckinsale,” the man who wore Ryder’s face said. “Shame. I’ve got a real thing for British accents.”

“Leo.” It was kicking in now, neurons firing. “Ryder’s twin.”

“And you’re Hailey.”

She blinked, surprised. “You know who I am?”

“I’m such a devoted follower of the Star, I can’t even tell you.” He grinned and shrugged. “And my brother might have mentioned you.”

She smiled and crossed her arms awkwardly. But did he mention where he stood on casual versus a little more?

Yeah . . . don’t ask that.

He was staring at her and she realized she hadn’t replied. “It’s, ah, nice to meet you.”

“Same. I’ve been wanting to meet the woman who’s got Ryder all in a tangle.”

Her ears perked up. “He said that?”

“No, and do you know how frustrating that is? Ry usually tells me everything about his women.”

Boy, she couldn’t begin to say how much she loved being classed as one of “Ryder’s women.” About as much as she would like being forced to watch endless episodes of Keeping Up with the Kardashians.

“Let’s get a drink.” Leo took her arm before she could escape and steered her toward the bar, even as she protested. Everything about him was the same as Ryder, his nose, his lips, the color of his hair, though it was cut shorter than Ryder’s mop. But he had a more studious air to him, a more elegant look and feel to how he moved. Not to mention the shirt and tie he was wearing.

He definitely had the same determination to get what he wanted though as he kept up a steady stream of chatter all the way across the floor, not giving her time to pull a runaway bridal planner.

“Lookee who I found, bro,” Leo announced as they approached both the bar and an achingly familiar back.

Ryder turned. When he saw her, a grin lit up his face, a grin that melted her knees. “Hmm,” he said, tilting his head. “She looks familiar, but it’s been so long. Maybe if she twirls for me?”

Hailey raised her eyebrows. Her knees stiffened as she cast him a sour glance.

“Now that look I definitely remember.” His grin widened as he straightened from his position against the bar. “How’ve you been?”

“Peachy.”

What a great moment to say that for the first time.

He looked as if he was struggling not to laugh. “Good to know.” He leaned in.

He was going to kiss her. She couldn’t remember her own name when he kissed her, let alone keep her thoughts straight.

She panicked and jerked back.

Unfortunately, she was wearing the cursed three-inch heels.

Also unfortunate was the drunk dude who’d spilled his beer all over the floor behind her.

Her arms windmilled as she skated on a layer of foam until an energy field wrapped around her like a lasso. She steadied and was tugged forward toward Ryder.

He tutted as he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Maybe it is time to get rid of those shoes.”

* * *

Ryder smiled into Hailey’s face. She wore an odd expression, like a kid who got caught helping herself to wine coolers out of the fridge.

He’d missed her.

“Got all your work stuff done then?” He flipped some cash onto the bar as the round of whiskey he’d ordered for him and Leo arrived.

“Uh, yeah.” She eased out of his hold and clasped her arms in front of her, emphasizing the dipped V of her cami.

Amazing how he could still want her this much. Guess the old saying must have been true: absence did make the heart grow fonder.

His gaze traced her face. She had shadows under her eyes. She must have missed him, too.

Pleased, he handed over the whiskey to his twin. “Small city, huh?”

“Too small.” She gave him a strange smile.

“Tell me about it,” Leo chimed in, leaning an elbow on the bar. “I’m always running into people I don’t want to.”

“You never want to run into people.”

“Which is why I live on the beach with hardly any neighbors.”

And that was why Ryder had asked his brother out for a drink. Preparty easing-in drinks. Get him acclimated to socializing.

Then he’d ignored Leo’s middle-fingered response and dragged him out anyway.

Ryder offered Hailey his drink, but she refused with a shake of her head. She was different, quieter.

Maybe it was because Leo was there. When she’d first met Ryder, she couldn’t speak either.

Before he could ask anything else, she flashed another false smile. “Anyway, I’m here with Max and Quentin and they’re probably wondering where I am.”

“We can go with—”

“No, that’s okay.” She hovered before stretching up to brush his cheek with a kiss. “I’ll, ah, call you. Tomorrow.” Her expression wobbled like a table with two legs and for a second he swore he saw sadness again.

She nodded at Leo. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet the woman planning the party I don’t want. Hey, when you get your wish, fix it so Ryder can’t come within a mile of my home, there’s a pal.”

Ryder frowned, ignoring his twin. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Absolutely.” She patted him on the arm.

On the arm.

Before he could call her on it, she smiled again and fled.

Leo let out a long whistle, ignoring the bartender pushing her boobs along the bar in hopes of attracting his attention. “Interesting girl you have there, Ry.”

“Yeah.” He stared after her.

It’d been like she couldn’t wait to get away from him. Was that the real reason she’d pleaded work and not seen him the last few days? Maybe she’d had her “fun” with a Genie and wanted to call it quits, only she didn’t know how.

He brooded into his whiskey. He didn’t want to call it quits. They were good together, in bed and out, and he still had so many things he wanted to challenge her to do.

“Uh-oh.” Leo rolled his eyes. “He’s sulking.”

Ryder flicked him a look. “I don’t sulk.”

“Tell it to your face.”

“Why would I sulk?” He tapped his glass on the bar before downing it. It hit like a one-two-three punch.

“Maybe ’cause your girlfriend ran away from you like Satan was after her?”

Ryder narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth to refute it, but stopped.

Girlfriend.

Huh.

“I hear no quippy comeback.” Leo held a hand behind his ear as if to hear better. “No panicked denial.”

Ryder stared at the bottom of his empty glass, where a few droplets clung. “You think we’re screwed up, L?” he asked, tilting the glass so the amber drops slid around. The jazz music blew moodily around them.

“Yes,” Leo answered with definiteness.

A sigh. “S’what I thought.”

“C’mon, Ry.” His twin nudged him with his elbow. “We’ve pretty much lost everyone. Of course we’re going to have a few issues.” Leo slung his drink back and exhaled at the punch. He studied Ryder as he placed the glass back on the bar. “Depends how much you like this girl.”

* * *

At two a.m., Ryder buzzed Hailey’s door. Repeatedly.

He got yelled at by a woman with a scrunchie and some kind of green goop on her face in a window above the entrance.

Didn’t stop him.

Finally Hailey’s voice crackled to sleepy life. “’Lo?”

“Can we talk?”

“Ryder?” Confusion stroked her voice as she yawned down the intercom. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

He ignored the woman’s tirade above him. “No.”

“Course not. It never can.” Her sigh was familiar and tinged with annoyed affection. It raised his spirits. “Come on up then.”

“Actually,” he said as the buzzer droned, “I want to take you somewhere.”

A small hesitation before she relented. “All right, but it better not be public.”